My first time at San Roberto was a Sunday of elections. "It's not exactly the ideal little house to understand what Faith and Light is," Anastasia told me, "but come anyway and meet the young people." That Sunday, Marco's term as coordinator was ending, and we needed to elect his replacement—something that happens, I later learned, every three years in all Faith and Light communities around the world.
That day, after we'd all settled into a circle, I found myself watching—part bewildered, part captivated—something halfway between a conclave and a session of self-discovery. The community was putting itself through this process to bring forth its new leader, whom the 2008 Faith and Light Constitution prefers to call the "community coordinator." I would learn that all of us in Faith and Light are called to responsibility, both as individuals and as a movement. But some among us are called to something more—what the "coordinator's handbook" describes clearly as service to vision, communion, and organization.
The coordinator is the only case in which the Faith and Light Constitution explicitly speaks of service. The charism of our movement is to "create bonds of trust and friendship among its members, bonds that are grounded and fulfilled in Jesus," as the Charter says. Or as Nicla—mother of Massimiliano and a friend to my community—would put it: "Not to do for, but to be with." I repeat that phrase often because it captures Faith and Light perfectly.
The election process that day struck me as exhaustingly long. I'd never participated in an election where simply marking a ballot and waiting for the results wasn't enough. Only in later years did I understand the importance of that duration.
At Faith and Light, elections involve tremendous talk—before, to explain what and why we're voting; during, to share our thoughts; and after, to give voice to those who have placed their "yes" or "no" in the community's hands. The first vote is a kind of warm-up round: each person writes two potential candidates' names on a ballot. From this pool of names begins the "discernment." The most-voted-for people are asked to step out one by one, so that all community members can freely express their views. A friend from another community—an outside eye—presides over this ritual of discernment and the voting process, and at the end announces the new coordinator. The Constitution says only one person can be elected, or at most a married couple, but over the years many communities as large as mine have often chosen shared leadership.
More than a decade has passed since that first little house, and I've often found myself participating in Faith and Light elections in different roles. It's always illuminating—whether listening to thanks for the outgoing coordinator or hearing the young people explain why a friend makes them feel good or important during the discernment process. When we get caught up in the thousand details of perfect organization, let's remember: the goal is "being with." As Jesus says, "You have received freely; give freely."
Untangling Discernment
The beauty of discernment is entering a new dimension of how we think and act. It puts us in the position of asking: what good must be done here and now? Recently I was invited to help the Faith and Light community in Scisciano, Campania, find their new coordinator.
Doing things practically helps understanding, so I prepared for each community member a small ball of yarn made of three strands in different colors, deliberately tangled together. Each person was invited to "unwind" their ball in silence, knowing that one strand represented themselves—with their sympathies, antipathies, and judgments. A second strand represented the teaching of charity that comes from the Gospel through Jesus. The third represented what it means to serve in Faith and Light.
Untangling the yarn allowed people to touch three inner voices: to neither exorcise nor ignore the good and bad in themselves, but to hold it in check; to question themselves in the light of the Gospel; to enable themselves to choose with authentic freedom. (Bruno Galante)