Some time ago, I was talking with a psychologist friend about my now long experience with Faith and Light.
At the end of our conversation, he said to me:
— You know, there are only two or three truly important things that happen in a person's life. I think for you F&L is one of them.
— What? — I said. — F&L is, all things considered, marginal in my life. How can you say it's one of the most important things?
— Marginal in terms of time, not in terms of quality!
— Are you saying F&L matters more than the time I spend on books, studying, writing, and teaching theology? More than the work I do in the seminary?
— Listen, I'm a layperson. I don't know much about your priestly matters. But I think if God the Father cares about anything, it's certainly not your books or your lectures.
— You've left me speechless! Though honestly, I sometimes wonder why I've stayed faithful to F&L all these years. What drew me to it — and what keeps drawing me?
— F&L is certainly one of those places where each of you shows your humanity without ornament, without masks. Where relationships are more immediate, more simple. Where each person matters not for what they do, but for who they are — simply because you're there, because you exist. This recognition is one of the most basic needs in our relational life. That's why you have more fun there than anywhere else!
— You're saying I have fun at F&L? I find your way of putting it strange. But I have to admit it's true! Still, as a priest, what should my role be in a group like this?
— As a priest, I don't know. Maybe you'll say mass sometimes, give a homily or two, but that's not the most important thing. As a priest in a group like this, you first have to learn to be human. You have to learn to love.
— You psychologists are all the same — you understand nothing about spiritual matters!
— Hear me out. Love isn't saying, "When I have nothing else to do, I'll drop by and lend a hand." Love isn't giving a crumb of your bread; it's sharing your whole loaf with another person. Love means entering into someone else's world and making their needs the measure of your own actions. When a child cries from hunger, the mother doesn't say, "As soon as I'm free, I'll feed you." The child, with real needs, sets the pace and terms for the parents. Have you never cared for someone? I mean a real person — someone you tried to understand, entering their world, their suffering, walking at their pace?
— I don't think I can do that as a priest!
— My friend, then you've been wasting your time. I didn't write the gospel. And yet I remember reading: "Whatever you did for the least of my brothers and sisters, you did for me." That's the way. Maybe it's we psychologists who actually believe the gospel? For us, the poor person is the one standing right in front of us with their fragility, their need.
— Now don't move the goalposts! According to you, we priests do nothing!
— I'm not saying you do nothing. I'm saying that if you want to be truly spiritual, you must be truly human. That's why I told you — meeting F&L was one of the few truly important things in your life.
Fr. Enrico Cattaneo (former national chaplain of Faith and Light), 2003
