Fe y Luz
Faith and Light in Spanish... How many different languages Valerio and I heard it spoken in Madrid! A national gathering has its importance, but to participate in an international one is truly a singular experience.
Every four years, Faith and Light brings together coordinators and spiritual assistants from every country—74 in total—and the number keeps growing as some countries are divided into multiple regions. It draws a substantial crowd: 166 coordinators and assistants, with open invitations to regional leaders, community heads, friends, and young people who wanted to attend. We easily topped 260 participants without counting the Spanish organizing team, interpreters, secretaries, and guests. A genuinely multicultural community. These gatherings take stock of Faith and Light's work around the world. Participants tackle practical matters—finances, budgets—alongside formation and peer exchange. For coordinators, it's a chance to share experiences and see the movement in all its cultural dimensions.
A Spanish Celebration
We were welcomed with a vibrant festival where we began to meet people from every continent. Each nation offered presentations and traditional songs. The conference theme also gave us its theme song: "Amplia el espacio de tu tienda" (Expand the Space of Your Tent). Spanish dancers in costume performed, and soon everyone was dancing beneath the stage.
A Multicultural Community
The week was intense, structured with a rigorous schedule. National coordinators, buried in work, seized every free moment—and there were few—to meet and plan future activities. I remember constant movement, clusters of people, a babel of languages. Everything was translated into English, French, and Spanish. At assemblies, everyone wore headsets for simultaneous interpretation. Valerio delighted in that magical device. It felt like we were in a European Union session!
For Valerio and me, this was our first time at such a gathering. But we weren't alone. Many others wandered around curious, and like us, in the first days stayed close to our more seasoned coordinators because we didn't always know what was happening—especially with the language barrier. But it didn't last long. As at every proper Faith and Light meeting, mealtimes became our chance to make connections. We sat down to lunch next to Father Johi from Korea, and at dinner across from a pleasant older woman (a spiritual assistant from Canada, a Protestant pastor!). Sometimes you'd find yourself at breakfast next to Jean Vanier.
As the days passed, Valerio learned whom to address in French, whom in English, whom in Spanish. Bonjour! Hello! Buenos días. He was learning which words fit which moments.
Sharing Circles
The program included small, fixed groups where we'd share impressions and discuss testimonies. Those moments stay with me most vividly. There were eight of us, none from the same country: England, Slovakia, Poland, Kenya, Estonia, Australia. Our conversations deepened each day—partly because our English improved, partly because we grew more invested in what the gathering offered.
Workshops
The workshops gave us chances to explore diverse themes. Valerio could join artistic workshops for young people, though he often preferred to admire the trees—he's a genuine expert—in the large park surrounding our host facility. The first workshop I attended focused on aging communities. I was curious how this reality, so important for Italy, was experienced elsewhere. A French father led the session with obvious expertise. He explained how Faith and Light communities naturally age, just as families do. Communities have a beginning and an end. What matters is assessing the situation regionally or nationally and recognizing two possibilities. First: the community is already declining and should be accompanied to live as fully as possible until its natural end. Community life changes, takes on different rhythms, may no longer hold elections. If only parents remain, connection might continue through phone calls, two or three gatherings a year. It's better to be clear that it's no longer officially Faith and Light, and those who wish can join other communities. A representative from a U.S. zone described how some communities even held ceremonies to celebrate the end of their community. The second possibility is to try every avenue while being careful not to burden any single person.
The second workshop was entirely different. The subject was nonverbal communication. The theme appealed to me, but I never imagined it would be so moving. A young Ukrainian led it, armed with a portable stereo. He brought us into something almost surreal. Picture a large room full of mostly strangers, all barefoot. After a brief introduction, he said our first task was to relax deeply. We sat in pairs on the ground, back to back, eyes closed, listening to our breath in silence. Simple enough. Still in pairs, we took turns observing each other's face while the other's eyes stayed closed. The interesting part was that it wasn't the watcher who felt uncomfortable—it was the watched. At that level, our physical expression matters enormously. He led us through a series of exercises, gradually intensifying the interaction. In complete silence, the most powerful was when we sculpted each other's bodies, shifting posture, repositioning arms and legs. Valerio turned me into a tree. The final exercise was to express, using only the body, an attitude of prayer. The workshop was so affecting that some couldn't help but cry at the end. It moved me deeply. We'd reached a profound level of engagement.
The Excursion
One day was set aside for an outing. We could choose among four destinations. Valerio and I chose to visit Madrid. The bus ride had the feel of a school trip—singing, conversations with people we hadn't yet met. Madrid is large, and our walk touched only the main tourist zones, but it was enough to clear our heads and meet people we hadn't known before.
Early Departures
The coordinators from Lebanon had to leave early to reach their families. Those were the days the conflict began. Your whole sense of an event changes when you know people directly affected by it. The entire community gathered in prayer to accompany our Lebanese friends home.
The Tent
Every early morning and late evening, we gathered at the tent—a large canvas shelter set among trees in the park, with a small altar inside. Over the days, people brought gifts, images, and candles, and it grew richer.
Syria, Iran, Italy
I became friends with two young women: Adeba from Syria and Marlen from Iran. One evening, in halting English, they told me about their lives as Christians in Muslim-majority countries.
It's no secret that Christianity isn't welcome in the Middle East, but it's another thing entirely to hear it from two women my age, people who seemed so much like me. Marlen is Iranian. She'd married a few months earlier, a man she'd met in the Christian community she belongs to. She explained that communities can meet only in church. While women on the street must wear the burqa, inside church and at home they can dress as we do. Adeba, from Syria, described a situation she called more "Western." The conversation turned to Italian society, and they were struck by how common unmarried couples are for us—a reality entirely unknown to them.
Laura Nardini, 2006
