"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." When Jesus applied these words of the prophet Isaiah to himself, he presented himself as the Father's messenger—sent to stand beside those who suffer and grieve.
I like to think of the priest's mission in the Fede e Luce community as a continuation of Jesus' mission in our time, a ministry of consolation.
"He has sent me to bring good news to the poor."
Jean Vanier recounts a dialogue between Pierre, a young adult man with intellectual disabilities, and a visitor asking about his interests.
— So, Pierre, do you like to pray?
— Yes, very much.
— And what do you say when you pray?
— I listen.
— And what does God say to you?
— "You are my beloved son."
The priest is called to see in Pierre and in every "young person" the beauty and preciousness that God sees, to nurture in himself and others—through the eyes of faith—the awareness that no one is a stranger to God, and that "the infinite worth of every human person," as Cardinal Martini writes, "lies in this eternal love that enfolds them."
"He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted."
Who can put into words the deep anguish of two parents when they learn—or are told—"Your child has problems. He will never be like the others"? Often their faith wavers too: "Why, Lord, did you allow this? Have you abandoned us as well?"
But God is not far away. In the mystery of his Incarnation, God took on human flesh in all its reality—weakness, disability, every form of human frailty—and so identified himself with every small child, every sick person, every poor person, every person with disabilities and needs. God is present in that disabled child. It is not easy for anyone to embrace this truth.
The priest stands beside the parents, offering his presence and sharing his faith with them. With them, he opens himself to be questioned by God's word and searches within it for light and strength.
In personal conversations and community gatherings, he seeks to understand and help others understand the mysterious ways of God's love—much as the risen Jesus did with the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. God's grace makes its way into the hearts of parents. Through the faith and light that God gives, what seems humanly to be a tragedy becomes a wellspring of communion and awakens energies perhaps long dormant, calling forth gifts of patience, steadfastness, and generosity.
"He has sent me to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."
An integral part of the Fede e Luce community are the "friends" who commit themselves to accompany and faithfully support the "young people" and their parents.
At Fede e Luce's regular prayer gatherings and at special events organized for the friends, the priest holds up the beauty of being and building community. Together they experience communion. They discover firsthand that in giving, one receives; in serving, one finds joy; in dying to oneself, one experiences life.
God is present in that disabled child. It is not easy to embrace this truth.
"He has sent me to comfort all who mourn."
How can one reach every member of the Fede e Luce community—and beyond, all our brothers and sisters? No matter how hard I try, I cannot reach each person individually. Yet the Lord's word is clear: "He has sent me to comfort all who mourn."
How do I carry out this mission?
Each day, when I celebrate the Eucharist, at the moment I pour a few drops of water into the wine in the chalice, I say to the Lord: "Behold, these drops of water express the suffering, the patience, the love, the work and struggle of every brother and sister in Fede e Luce. Unite them with the wine, so that they too become the blood of Christ." On the altar, invisibly yet truly, the whole community is present. Every burden and sorrow is assumed by Jesus Christ and becomes part of him.
My task as a priest is to "offer" all of this and to remain in prayer with my hands raised on behalf of all my brothers and sisters.
- Brother Carlo Vecchiato, 2003