«This, rather, is the fasting that I wish: releasing those bound unjustly, untying the thongs of the yoke; Setting free the oppressed, breaking every yoke;sharing your bread with the hungry, sheltering the oppressed and the homeless; Clothing the naked when you see them, and not turning your back on your own» (Is 58,6-7).

Since the beginning of his pontificate, Pope Francis has challenged the Church and all men and women of good will with a counter-cultural discourse that is difficult for many to accept and that he himself has often summed up in a few words: compassion, closeness and tenderness. For these are the Lord’s own characteristics, and the criteria by which we Christians will be judged in the evening of our lives.

In this time of Lent we are now living, in the Jubilee Year of Hope, I would like to propose that we contemplate together, from the Lanterian heart, some ways to make tangible the fasting to which the Word of God invites us.

The world we are living in tends to make people’s pain invisible. Discarded humanity is not usually the image, the news, what sells and captures the attention of the majority of people; even in Christian publications, those that call attention to the suffering of the weak and innocent have almost no echo (likes). The invisibility of poverty, of weak and suffering people ends up convincing the large information-consuming masses that this reality does not exist or is exaggerated by the politically interested media. Even many pundits insist that it is they themselves, the poor, who are responsible and guilty for their own misfortunes.

Globally, there is a positive strategy of concealment that facilitates large modern exoduses by keeping them anonymous. This is how mafias can and often do operate, with the complicity of government agencies and officials and the silence of large economic operators who will benefit from slave labor.

The trade in human beings produces enormous wealth for those who promote and profit from it. Typically, the targets are sexual exploitation, “labor” slavery 1 and organ sales. There is no area of our world that is not excluded from the human market, either as “supplier” or “consumer,” if these expressions can ever be used to refer to human trafficking.

The breeding ground for these realities is the poverty from which more than half of humanity suffers. More than half of the world’s children are born and raised in poverty, meaning they do not have enough food or access to water, health care or education. Too many children are forced at an early age to work or care for younger siblings. They are often victims of adults who take serious advantage of their vulnerability, inside and outside the church. Too many, too many vulnerable children and adolescents are trafficked, enslaved and killed.

Entire peoples are manipulated like cattle and displaced because of wars that never end and will never end on the front pages of newspapers or social media timelines.

Violent speeches, public threats to entire nations; wars made and unmade based on the economic interests of arms manufacturers end up affecting the minds of ordinary citizens trying to live peaceful lives in a human-scale community.

In many parts of the world, access to health care is difficult or impossible. Let’s consider for a moment the large number of elderly people who must choose between feeding themselves and buying medicine. Meanwhile, the pharmaceutical industry – structurally linked to the food industry – makes millions, sponsors politicians and washes its face in global advertising.

Domestic violence, drug use and addiction, teenage suicide, inadequate wages, difficult or even impossible access to housing or a piece of land, are realities that many of us live with on a daily basis without realizing it, precisely because of the cloak of invisibility that keeps them hidden from our eyes and sensibilities.

A few years ago, Dysmas de Lassus, prior general of the Grande Charterhouse, published a courageous reflection on abuse in the Church 2. In one of his pages, based on the experience of a woman, he addresses the difficulty of accepting this reality as true. As the testimonies of the victims are unbelievable, so much so that it becomes impossible to recognize them, and if they are unbelievable, it is “because they cannot be, they did not happen, never, nothing.”

Sometimes this is the first, almost spontaneous reaction of the human heart to the revelation of humanity’s pain. And it is not in itself a problem. It is understandable that the spirit tends to defend itself and to wish to distance itself from so much suffering. And it is also understandable that it transfers its anger against those who display it and those who show where suffering dwells.

However, the Lord’s pedagogy is often not to hide reality from those who must face it with a pastoral heart. “The kings of the Gentiles lord it over them; and those who exercise authority over them call themselves Benefactors. But you are not to be like that” (Luke 22:25-26). This is the criterion: For you, however, let it not be so. Take, therefore, an attitude diametrically opposed to that which undermines human dignity, do not participate in the vicious circle that makes the victims’ pain invisible, do not ignore that the sin of this world consists in destroying the precious image of the God of life, do not accept as your own and do not repeat Herod’s discourse that ends up blaming the innocent and justifying the discarding of human beings in the name of peace.

In the Lanterian heart there is room for “the joys and hopes, sorrows and anxieties of the people of our time, especially the poor and those who suffer” (G.S.1).

Therefore, in the face of spontaneous advocacy, we posit empathy; in the face of hegemonic discourses, contact and discernment of reality; in the face of dispersion and a sense of chaos, a community organized by love.

On the day of our perpetual profession we solemnly promised to pray for all the needs of the world. The whole world is the measure of the consecrated person’s heart. In prayer is the first true expression of evangelical empathy. Prayer may seem to us to be a small thing or a euphemism for keeping consciences numb and away from engagement with reality. However, Christian prayer, which is a loving dialogue with the Father who is in secret, could never become an escape simply because the Father would never direct his children to anything other than the Son’s choice. We are talking about a believing prayer and not narcissistic gloating before an altar, a statue or a mirror. Those who truly listen and obey the Father become able to understand this world and this humanity as he understands them, without masks or sweeteners.

In the Eucharist we become one with the Lord Jesus, we speak in the first person, we celebrate by asking for his own feelings and we join the feelings of all witnesses of the faith, we identify with his voluntary and total giving to take away the sin of the world. At the table of the blessed bread and wine we celebrate such a constitutive covenant with the innocent Lamb that we could never disassociate ourselves from those with whom He identified Himself to the point of shedding His blood (cfr Mt 25:32).

In silent adoration we proclaim Him Lord of history and recognize ourselves as useless servants, who do only what they are commanded and rejoice that they can do it. Bowing down before Him, we free ourselves from all messianism and individualism, from all worldly and calculating spirits; we purify ourselves from the traps our spirit sets when it caresses the limits of pain and death. In the silence of praise, we act according to what we are, and we pray to Him that He will also act according to what He is.

When we proclaim the Word, in the pulpit or away from it, in prayer contexts or outside them, in or out of the temple, orally or in writing, the Lord places a precious and delicate instrument in our hands. It is his Word, not our need to speak the truth to his face. Julio Cura used to repeat that we must not be silent about what the Word denounces nor ever make the Word say what it has never said. If the Word denounces, do not be silent; if it consoles, enlarge your heart; if it rebukes, do it too; if it forgives, be merciful; if it invites conversion, ease the way; if it seems difficult or contrary to what you live, do not be silent; it is not the best of your words that saves, but only the Word of the Lord that sets you free. Whenever you have the opportunity to speak, you have the chance to make visible what evil, by its nature, tends to hide. Whether in a accurate context such as the Exercises, in a parish meeting, in a formation course, or in a simple social discourse, you will always have before you women and men affected by evil, hearts that are silent or even oppressed or narcotized. After hearing your words — on opportune and inappropriate occasions — let no one turn away from you without having tasted the merciful tenderness of the Lord.

Reconciliation often provides such a beautiful setting that what happens there remains in the penitent’s heart and often in ours as well. It is true that in many regions the sacrament of reconciliation has become a strange and extraordinary food. Nevertheless, the need for a listening ear never seems to go out of fashion. The gift of unhurried listening remains a work of mercy. And we all know that it is not easy to find priests or religious available or prepared to listen, not to mention discernment. In the hours of waiting in a confessional, the anxiety of that father who went out on the terrace each morning to see if his son had returned (cf. Lk. 15:11) is palpable from within. And if the person approaching you does not have a clear desire to “confess sins” but rather to tell something or ask for advice, give him or her time, stay with them as long as necessary. Often old hurts need a lot of patience and a framework of personal safety to make storytelling possible. You are probably not the first person he/she is trying to talk to and he/she is deciding right then whether he/she can trust you. A person wounded in trust will need a lot of oil, a lot of wine and a lot of time to heal his heart. And if he/she asks for forgiveness, even if weakly, forgive him/her; and if not, offer him/her forgiveness. But do not let him/her leave you without having received mercy from your eyes 3.

Making the victims’ grief visible does not mean exposing their tragedies but rather creating an institutional framework of care and respect. Parishes and other church institutions and many people in them often have the charism of tenderness. Sometimes it is enough to connect and support them. And a lot of creativity-charity-pastoral care will always be needed.

Facing human pain and the power of those who cause it, we might sometimes feel like the disciples who gather only five loaves and two fish. We rightly might ask ourselves, “What is this for so many people?” However, no disillusionment is allowed. It will not be our energies or skills or the best of our organizations that will transform the desert of this world into the orchard announced by the prophets. The vocation of the Lanterian community is to be a presence as loving as it is discrete, as small as the grain of wheat that must die to give life. We may also feel insignificant and irrelevant, without structure or tools to heal the human heart. Mother Teresa imagined herself as a drop in the ocean, but a drop that could not be missed; it was enough for her to care for a child, “give it to me if you don’t want it, I’ll take care of it,” she used to say.

Our hidden existence with Christ in God is a reconciled and reconciling presence. I like to think that it is no small thing for 150 men to take the floor every Sunday and express themselves with tenderness and compassion, to have their eyes open to forgive everything (and this seems to be the most difficult thing in today’s Church) and to maintain gestures of cordial closeness. For many – unfortunately too many – one word, one look or one gesture will be the only experience of love in their lives.