Dear friends, Jesus came to offer the world a path of communion and peace—a world strangled by rivalry and division, by hatred and war. Through his death and resurrection, a small pathway of peace began, offered to some people so they might announce that we are called to love, not to rivalry and division. Yes, God wants to give us new energy, a new spirit, to reveal love to the world.
Certainly, there are terrible dramas in our time: Haiti, Pakistan, Ivory Coast, Japan, Libya, and countless places we rarely hear about. And then there are all these broken hearts in our own countries. We are fragile. Our world is fragile. Yet in all these places of suffering, so many gestures of love and courage emerge. At the foot of Jesus's cross stood his mother. In the moment of Jesus's terrible humiliation, abandoned by his friends, one person stood near him. And she said to him: "I love you. I trust you." She sustained him with her love.
L'Arca, like Faith and Light, was born at a moment in history when many people with disabilities were aborted before birth. At that time, it was necessary for God to raise up places with one primary aim: to reveal to the world that these are wonderful human persons who have gifts to offer others. And when you enter into relationship with them, they have the power to transform our hearts. From the gravest drama—their deaths—arose places proclaiming their value and beauty. God watches over our wounded humanity.
Sometimes I hear people say that now that I'm 82 and have no more responsibilities, I can rest. In fact, my life now takes on an even deeper meaning. I can live the essential—which is not "doing for" but "living with" the most fragile people.
I am increasingly convinced that God has chosen the weakest and most despised to confound the powerful and the intellectuals. Their simplicity, their hearts—often more openly ready than intellectual capacity would suggest—their deep thirst for relationship seem to open them in a special way to God, who is Love and relationship. This loving God is undoubtedly at ease with them. Isaiah (57:15) says, in God's name: "I dwell in a high and holy place, yet I am also with the oppressed and the humble."
Psalm 113 says: "God lifts the needy from the dust, raises the poor from the ash heap to seat them with princes of his people." The strong often live in rivalry, discarding and crushing the weak. God is with the weak. My joy is to be here with them and to celebrate life together.
Life in my foyer is very simple. Apart from meals and prayers, I like to dry the dishes with everyone. I should say the dishes come out so hot from the dishwasher they are practically dry; my service from a seated position is not exactly strenuous or demanding. Still, it is a time when we share joy and laughter. Patrick is not very efficient, nor is Eric, but we have a wonderful time together.
My life here at Trosly, when there are no retreats to lead at the Farm, is quite calm. In the morning I meet with people. I rest after lunch. Some visits in the afternoon, then the Eucharist, followed by dinner at Val Fleuri. I dry the dishes and then we pray together. Usually more than 20 of us are there for meals. And of course, I have quiet moments with Jesus. John Paul II speaks of his vision of the Church (I would substitute "L'Arca" for Church): "It is the house and school of communion. This is the great challenge before us in this new millennium, if we wish to be faithful to God's plan and respond to the world's profound needs and expectations. A spirituality of communion means being attentive to our brothers and sisters, to share their joys and sufferings, to recognize their desires and respond to their needs, to offer them genuine and deep friendship. It means the ability to see, especially what is positive in the other, to welcome and value it as God's gift, as a gift to ourselves. It means, finally, knowing how to make room for our brother, bearing one another's burdens."
Yes, in this final stage of my life, I want to live this communion and work to spread it in my community. Patrick Mathias—who was a psychiatrist at Trosly—when I asked him what human maturity is, answered: "Tenderness." Are not L'Arca and Faith and Light called to be places of tenderness and communion, and to be a small sign in the world?
This, for me, is the Gospel. Before his public life, Jesus lived for about thirty years in Nazareth, a hidden life, working with Joseph and living with him and Mary. He was present with people, especially the poor of the village.
Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King, working for the men and women of India and the United States, relied deeply on their Indian and black peoples, so that each would be recognized in their dignity. In a society where the weak are set aside because they disturb (despite real progress already made in welcoming them), and where they often suffer abortion before birth, I do not feel called to organize great demonstrations in the streets of Paris to make their dignity recognized. Rather, I feel called to live simply with them and, through this life, to witness that they are wonderful people who have much to give to our societies if we are willing to enter into relationship with them. Through our life at L'Arca and in Faith and Light, through the joy that radiates from our communities—beyond our sufferings and difficulties—we can show an alternative way of living, in which celebration, joy during work and meals, common prayer, communion and tenderness among us, move many to change how they see the most fragile and to discover a new way of living.
This is a great anniversary for Faith and Light—forty years after the great pilgrimage of 1971, when 12,000 pilgrims traveled to Lourdes to pray and celebrate, hoping that people's hearts would change toward those who are weak. Now there are 1,690 small Faith and Light communities in 80 countries. Marie Hélène is finishing a beautiful book on the history of Faith and Light and how Faith and Light and L'Arca, since their beginning, have been guided by the tender hand of God, so close to the weakest.
Thank you to all the Faith and Light communities who sent me postcards and greetings to celebrate this meaningful anniversary together.
Blessings for a celebration that is a renewal of life for all!
Jean Vanier, Milan, May 2011