Since last September, I have been living in our parish in Magliana, on the southern outskirts of Rome. Since I have been here, Tuesday has been one of the best days of the week. It begins like any other day: reciting Morning Prayer with my brothers in the house, adoration, personal prayer, and finally Holy Mass. This time is not something secondary, but a key moment to implore Christ to use me to encounter the people to whom we are sent.
I spend mornings with Fr. Gerry. He has lived in Magliana for over 25 years and has Parkinson’s disease. Looking at him, I am struck by many things. First of all, the humility he shows in asking for help to get ready so that he can leave the house on time. Then, I am struck by how he lives his illness. He often says that difficulty makes sense if it is lived as an offering for the people of the neighborhood for whom he has given his life.
In particular, I help Don Gerry with “Coffee in Company.” It’s an initiative for the elderly in the neighborhood: we have breakfast together and then do lectio divina. During the week, everyone meditates and prays by reading a passage from the Gospel. On Tuesdays, we share what the Gospel has inspired in us and how it relates to our lives.
It remains a big question that they cannot easily ignore
It is wonderful to see the passion they have in sharing their discoveries and the friendship that is developing between them. They often meet to help each other get ready for the “Coffee in company” and now they have also started accompanying each other to various medical appointments. After the elderly, I move to the young. In the afternoons, Fr. Paolo, the pastor, asked me to stay at our soccer field to meet the kids who come to play. I organize the soccer games and play when the older kids are there. I talk a lot with the kids between games. They have so many questions. The question I have been asked most often this year—and which I did not expect—is definitely this: “But do you ‘make love’?” It is not always expressed with typical euphemism but rather with the “color” typical of the Roman dialect. For these kids, it is absurd that a 26-year-old man would choose a life of chastity. The question is often asked provocatively, but it is still a great help to me because it forces me to reflect on the reasons for my choice. They understand when I explain that there is an aspect of sacrifice in chastity, but that I am happy to give myself completely to God and respond to his love. This year, I am discovering how powerful the witness of a virginal life is in today’s world. It’s not that they now share my choice, but it remains a big question that they cannot easily ignore.
