“For the Lord, the God of Israel says:
the Jar of flour shall not go empty,
nor the jug of oil run dry.” (1 Kings 17: 14)
INTRODUCTION
Dear brothers and sisters,
I have deliberately chosen to use this common formula “Dear brothers and sisters” to introduce you to this letter you have in your hands. Yes, it’s a letter. You may have been waiting for it, but here it is, addressed to you. It’s addressed to the whole family, lay and religious alike, even if the content seems to favor the religious.
One of the brothers asked me: when will you write your first letter to the congregation? I knew I had to, but it wasn’t time yet. The time that elapsed between this question and the start of the writing was important. It allowed me to move away from the idea of simply fulfilling a tradition, to really feel the need to communicate something that came from my heart. I didn’t want to get something “out of the library”, but out of everyday life, which challenges and calls out to us.
I’m sure you’ve read some of my early speeches in various forms. From my first (more or less structured) speech as Superior General, you’ll notice that there’s a concern that’s close to my heart: what will tomorrow be made of? This question is at the heart of my prayer and my thinking, and it also appears, in various forms, in the meetings and conversations I’ve had with some of you.
On several occasions, when I speak to a religious (especially those in positions of responsibility), I ask him about other brothers, either in the community or in the entity where he lives. Occasionally, I receive responses in which I read the following: “Here, all the brothers are doing well and courageously assuming their respective missions.” You can just imagine the joy I feel when I read such a message. As a result, my prayers are not only prayers of petition, but also of thanksgiving. If you’ve ever wondered how you could help the Superior General in his mission, perhaps this is the way to do it: by courageously assuming the task entrusted to you. Thanks in advance to those who are already doing so. But, as you know, this is not a time for gifts.
I don’t want to start this letter by suggesting that we have “big problems” to solve. But neither would I want you to think that we don’t have serious questions to ask ourselves. The reality, which I already mentioned in the editorial of the first issue of AA-info, is constantly feeding the chronicles of our times, sometimes with fatalistic predictions.
These are troubled times for our Church. The instability of the world is affecting all strata of our societies, and we live in perpetual uncertainty about tomorrow. Our Congregation is not spared. And all this, at a time when we are talking about “the change in our Congregation’s center of gravity”1. You know what this means, and the consequences and worries that can follow. Fear is within our walls. And why not! Even if this fear is legitimate, I wanted to write to you to warn you of the paralysis that it could result.
