When he was a young seminarian, the teacher in Luigi Giussani's singing class played a recording of an aria from a Donizetti opera, Spirto gentil (Gentle spirit, you once shone in my dreams, but after, I lost you forever. . . .). At that moment, Giussani understood for the first time that God existed, and thus that nothing could exist without a meaning; that the heart could not exist unless the heart's goal existed: happiness.
Many years later, after founding Communion and Liberation-a lay movement within the Catholic Church-Father Giussani started and directed a series of compact discs, named Spirto Gentil, that included many of the great composers of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, some of the masterpieces of church music, and collections of folk songs from various national traditions. The English translations of his introductions to the booklets that accompanied the compact discs have finally been gathered together, revised, and published in book form.
Giussani heard in music a privileged way of perceiving beauty as the splendor of truth, capable of arousing and keeping alive the desire for infinite beauty, recognizing it as one way through which the Mystery speaks to the heart of man. Spirto Gentil thus introduces us not only to the elements of musical form but above all it accompanies us in a search for the ultimate meaning of existence.
What do we mean when we say I? Behind that word there exists today a deep and abiding confusion. And yet what could be more urgent for each and every one of us than an understanding of what it means to be a subject-a true protagonist in the world? Nothing is as fascinating as the discovery of the true dimensions of one's own I.
And nothing is as moving and provocative as the belief that God became flesh and blood to accompany each person's journey in search of their own human face. Unfolding the implications of that belief is the burden of In Search of the Human Face, one of the seminal books by Monsignor Luigi Giussani, founder of Communion and Liberation.
Life presents us first of all with a decision about what we recognize as our own foundation-and this decision is an event that is continually proposed again. The encounter with the Christian event has for two thousand years been the encounter with a human phenomenon in which the passion for the discovery of one's own face and openness to reality are mysteriously awakened, and it has as an inevitable consequence-the inauguration of a new type of morality, aptly described by Romano Guardini: In the experience of a great love, all that happens becomes an event inside that love.
When he was a young seminarian, the teacher in Luigi Giussani's singing class played a recording of an aria from a Donizetti opera, Spirto gentil (Gentle spirit, you once shone in my dreams, but after, I lost you forever. . . .). At that moment, Giussani understood for the first time that God existed, and thus that nothing could exist without a meaning; that the heart could not exist unless the heart's goal existed: happiness.
Many years later, after founding Communion and Liberation-a lay movement within the Catholic Church-Father Giussani started and directed a series of compact discs, named Spirto Gentil, that included many of the great composers of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, some of the masterpieces of church music, and collections of folk songs from various national traditions. The English translations of his introductions to the booklets that accompanied the compact discs have finally been gathered together, revised, and published in book form.
Giussani heard in music a privileged way of perceiving beauty as the splendor of truth, capable of arousing and keeping alive the desire for infinite beauty, recognizing it as one way through which the Mystery speaks to the heart of man. Spirto Gentil thus introduces us not only to the elements of musical form but above all it accompanies us in a search for the ultimate meaning of existence.
There is an ancient Christian saying from the Patristic Era which is known in its most concise form as lex orandi, lex credendi. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church translates it: The law of prayer is the law of faith: the Church believes as she prays.
While the elegant simplicity of the phrase contains an abundance of wisdom, the liturgy has always been subject to forces that threaten to reduce this understanding to partial interpretations. As several observers have noted, these reductions include the archeological approach-explicating the liturgy's historical origins but in the process treating it as a dead letter-and the sociological approach-focusing on liturgy as little more than an expression of contemporary concerns.
In Living the Liturgy: A Witness, Father Luigi Giussani (1922-2005) restores a more balanced view, reminding us that (according to Roberto Braschi's introduction) in the liturgy God is its pres-ent subject and that the essence of every celebratory action is the possibility of a gaze toward Him-because it is always from Him that the dialogue with humanity moves. The memorable, bracing insights in Living the Liturgy were taken from conversations that Father Giussani had with members of the international lay movement he founded, Communion and Liberation.
What do we mean when we say I? Behind that word there exists today a deep and abiding confusion. And yet what could be more urgent for each and every one of us than an understanding of what it means to be a subject-a true protagonist in the world? Nothing is as fascinating as the discovery of the true dimensions of one's own I.
And nothing is as moving and provocative as the belief that God became flesh and blood to accompany each person's journey in search of their own human face. Unfolding the implications of that belief is the burden of In Search of the Human Face, one of the seminal books by Monsignor Luigi Giussani, founder of Communion and Liberation.
Life presents us first of all with a decision about what we recognize as our own foundation-and this decision is an event that is continually proposed again. The encounter with the Christian event has for two thousand years been the encounter with a human phenomenon in which the passion for the discovery of one's own face and openness to reality are mysteriously awakened, and it has as an inevitable consequence-the inauguration of a new type of morality, aptly described by Romano Guardini: In the experience of a great love, all that happens becomes an event inside that love.
In his introduction, Fr. Julián Carrón asks: Why is hospitality a miracle? It seems like something we should take for granted-opening the door of our home and let-ting someone in should be normal. And yet, he notes, it is so exceptional that when it happens, everyone is amazed.
In the talks and interviews collected in The Miracle of Hospitality, Fr. Luigi Giussani, founder of the international lay movement Communion and Liberation (CL), delves into the source of this miracle-the free gift we call charity. He writes: Only if we are aware that we are loved-with clarity or confu-sion, implicitly or explicitly-can we love, which means to em-brace, to welcome within us, and to share.
Fr. Giussani's words were shaped by a long-running dialogue with the Welcoming Families Association, an organization that emerged out of the lived experience of CL and which has for many years promoted foster care and adoption, as well as support for migrants, the elderly, and the disabled. Given the ever-present phenomena of war, mass migration, and the many threats facing millions of children today, the miracle of hospitality is more urgently needed than ever.
In his introduction, Fr. Julián Carrón asks: Why is hospitality a miracle? It seems like something we should take for granted-opening the door of our home and let-ting someone in should be normal. And yet, he notes, it is so exceptional that when it happens, everyone is amazed.
In the talks and interviews collected in The Miracle of Hospitality, Fr. Luigi Giussani, founder of the international lay movement Communion and Liberation (CL), delves into the source of this miracle-the free gift we call charity. He writes: Only if we are aware that we are loved-with clarity or confu-sion, implicitly or explicitly-can we love, which means to em-brace, to welcome within us, and to share.
Fr. Giussani's words were shaped by a long-running dialogue with the Welcoming Families Association, an organization that emerged out of the lived experience of CL and which has for many years promoted foster care and adoption, as well as support for migrants, the elderly, and the disabled. Given the ever-present phenomena of war, mass migration, and the many threats facing millions of children today, the miracle of hospitality is more urgently needed than ever.
In 1980, two men sit down to record a conversation. They have much in common: both are passionate, articulate thinkers. But their differences are just as striking: Giovanni Testori is a well-known writer-and an openly gay man. Luigi Giussani is a Catholic priest who has attracted so many students with his striking way of re-proposing the Christian message that he's unwittingly started a movement (which came to be known as Communion and Liberation).
Testori, who has recently returned to the Catholic faith, begins with a provocative suggestion: modern people have lost contact with the existential and religious experience of birth, of an origin in love-the love of one's parents and the love of God. From here, the dialogue ranges widely, taking on the root causes of modern despair and alienation, the link between suffering and hope, the significance of memory, and what it means to encounter the presence of God in one another.
Profound but accessible, The Meaning of Birth is a resonant and bracing exploration of life's most fundamental questions.
There is an ancient Christian saying from the Patristic Era which is known in its most concise form as lex orandi, lex credendi. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church translates it: The law of prayer is the law of faith: the Church believes as she prays.
While the elegant simplicity of the phrase contains an abundance of wisdom, the liturgy has always been subject to forces that threaten to reduce this understanding to partial interpretations. As several observers have noted, these reductions include the archeological approach-explicating the liturgy's historical origins but in the process treating it as a dead letter-and the sociological approach-focusing on liturgy as little more than an expression of contemporary concerns.
In Living the Liturgy: A Witness, Father Luigi Giussani (1922-2005) restores a more balanced view, reminding us that (according to Roberto Braschi's introduction) in the liturgy God is its pres-ent subject and that the essence of every celebratory action is the possibility of a gaze toward Him-because it is always from Him that the dialogue with humanity moves. The memorable, bracing insights in Living the Liturgy were taken from conversations that Father Giussani had with members of the international lay movement he founded, Communion and Liberation.
In 1980, two men sit down to record a conversation. They have much in common: both are passionate, articulate thinkers. But their differences are just as striking: Giovanni Testori is a well-known writer-and an openly gay man. Luigi Giussani is a Catholic priest who has attracted so many students with his striking way of re-proposing the Christian message that he's unwittingly started a movement (which came to be known as Communion and Liberation).
Testori, who has recently returned to the Catholic faith, begins with a provocative suggestion: modern people have lost contact with the existential and religious experience of birth, of an origin in love-the love of one's parents and the love of God. From here, the dialogue ranges widely, taking on the root causes of modern despair and alienation, the link between suffering and hope, the significance of memory, and what it means to encounter the presence of God in one another.
Profound but accessible, The Meaning of Birth is a resonant and bracing exploration of life's most fundamental questions.