2013|en|07: Don Bosco Educator: God wants us to be in a better world than this



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DON BOSCO THE EDUCATOR

PASCUAL CHÁVEZ VILLANUEVA


DON BOSCO SAYS


GOD WANTS US TO BE IN A BETTER WORLD THAN THIS


I know one Italian writer, of those who are very successful because they write according to the taste of the majority, who said that "the saints don't make history". Maybe it would have been reasonable if he had written that "The saints do not make stories." But the agreement is ...I never posed as a "saviour of my country".


When I said goodbye to the first ten missionaries who departed for Argentina I remember saying from the pulpit of the Church of Mary Help of Christians these words: "We give a start to a great work, not because people believe in changing the whole universe in a few days, no; but who knows whether this departure and this little bit is like a seed from which has a large plant grows? ... In our littleness even we right now put in our pebble in the large building of the Church".


I lived in very difficult times. It took a good deal of caution, "clever tricks" not to make things worse. A very tactful, delicate game of diplomacy. This was the favourite of my character. Doing things in a humble way, without wanting to impress; rather than go to bumping into obstacles, I was ready to pass them by and defeat them just when I gave the impression of wanting to give up. I always had in mind the purpose that I intended, I knew how to make a friend of my opponent, without giving in but even without blaming myself excessively.


I was aware of the programme of the anticlericals which were too much for the simple. In 1849 I had read their plan, point by point. With a silent arrogance they claimed as their precise targets: to trample on religion – to fight the Church – to wound the priesthood – to stamp down every authority, both divine and human – to break the tighter constraints of society and of nature – to exalt the most shameful vices – to be a haven from the beast. It was a plan that I judged had been devilishly organized, planned over the long-term. I, however, wasn't a priest in procession in protest parades, among those who were shouting trendy slogans. I did not approve of priests who paraded with the tricolour rosette attached to the cassock, in church during the Pontifical Mass of the Archbishop and in the squares. I publicized my ideas clearly and as a result, many of them went away from me.


I was not a "troublemaker" by profession, I had my principles; I preferred to act with the care and calm of the farmer, without expecting miracles at a good price. On the other hand, I was not gullible nor naïve; I noticed mistakes, errors, I knew I had to wait, to give some time, convinced that "the better is the enemy of the good".


We were entering the industrial age. I had to adapt to new times, new trends, without taking refuge in dangerous bygone eras that were now to fade away forever. Many things were not right. But instead of getting lost in sterile complaints, I preferred to roll up my sleeves and work in another style: in my small ambit, without wishing to overdo it, I wanted to build a better world by offering many young people a bread earned honestly by a worthy work as free people and not like slaves to be exploited. I knew that "the devil has servants everywhere", even though I had the certainty that "he who has God has everything". And then I used the wise rule of "Let nothing disturb you!", an advice and warning that I recommended to my Salesians.


By education and by character I didn’t let myself break down easily. Furthermore, in my life I was spared difficulties and challenges. So I said: "What's it worth complaining about the evils that afflict us? Much better to do everything possible to overcome them. These people that govern us have much need of our compassion: the earls who open with God are too serious! ". I was prompted to react with a bold new tactic: "We cannot oppose the mischievous world only by the 'Our Father'. We want to work!". I tried as well to stem so much bad, with a little good.


I was convinced that "our countries have now become mission territory". For this I insisted with my Salesians: "If you don't work, the devil works".


Supported by brave ideals I was guided by this programme: "In things that turn to the benefit of the unsafe youth or to gain souls for God, I'm running forward recklessly" So I always tried to give concrete answers, as the circumstances required. I wrote to Fr Cagliero that ‘grinding’ year in Argentine lands: "We have an ongoing series of projects that look like fairy tales or crazy stuff in the eyes of the world, but just externally, may God bless them so that everything goes at ‘full sail’. Reason to pray, thank, hope and watch". The optimism that always supported me at times seemed about to vanish into thin air. The walls of new buildings, built with sweat and blood in Valdocco, were collapsing in the night; there were priests who were taught by me and who, from one day to the next, left without even thanking me; it was a sudden gust of wind that mysteriously blasted open the window and poured the inkwell over the pages on which had been diligently written articles of the Constitutions that had to be sent urgently the next morning to the Vatican; and there was that climate of misunderstanding, false rumours, of souls inflamed, anonymous nasty little books against the Archbishop of Turin that poisoned the soul; and then, those bronze doors of the Holy See mysteriously closed thus preventing my meeting once again with the dying Pius IX ... How many boulders!. But it was a momentary failure. This would be how a Salesian very dear to me wrote: "In John Bosco the heartaches of life never blew away the cobwebs of doubt". I was reminded: "We are continually being tested, but we never lack divine help. Let us hope that we will not be unworthy for the future".


In 1854, I had written to Count Clemente Solaro della Margherita, a serious and courageous politician, a wholesome Catholic: "This is not about rescuing a single individual, but to offer a piece of bread to young people whose hunger poses the greatest danger of losing morality and religion". On the same theme, but with an emphasis far more urgent and dramatic, I insisted in 1886 on speaking to the nobility in Barcelona: "The young man who grows up in your streets, will first ask you for a donation, then demands it and finally will make you give it, holding a revolver in his hand".


To ask and to thank, is the eternal movement of diastole and systole of my entire life. To involve my benefactors in this with a human affection, warm, gentle and always personalized. A love that unites benefactors and those who benefit in a loyal and sincere relationship. With some benefactresses I reserve the joy of calling them (God knows with how much gratitude!) "My dearest and good Mum".


My heart as a priest-teacher had never ceased to love, to the end. My pedagogy is identified with the word heart. After another dispatch of missionaries (1883) I wrote to the leader of the expedition, Fr Costamagna: "You have gone, but I have really saddened my heart. I took courage, but I suffered and I was not able to sleep throughout the night ".

I insist on this key: my educational system has not been written by copying pages of books; it was life lived, personal transparency. It was not a "theory" plagiarized from scholarly volumes and famous scholars. I copied, Yes, but I have drawn from the heart, day by day, from the dusty courtyards of Valdocco, from streets on the outskirts of Turin. It was a source which has never failed to gush forth.


I have struggled for a lifetime to give back to many young people the joy of living, by clothing them with a dignity too often trampled upon. I lived with them to better understand the needs, hopes and dreams, to build with them a life worthy of God's children. I have adopted with them and for them an education system in which there is a good and provident God, merciful and patient. I put God in the heart of my youth because I knew their thirst for truth and justice. I did discover a yearning for God in thousands of stragglers, violent and rebellious kids. I became the priest of joy and hope, of pardon given in the name of Jesus the Saviour, pierced and risen. I took tough guys by the hand and I took them to enjoy the happiness of a new heart. I brought them a new path to holiness, within their capacity, an enjoyable Holiness because it was fascinating and demanding at the same time. I flew my flag of joy.


I haven't changed the world, far from it! But despite the inevitable mistakes that always accompany human action, I have been aware of my part. I opened new ways to educate, love and serve youth. My dreams have left signs.


You know who gave me and my work a more spot-on definition? It was a French physician, Dr. Combal, of the University of Montpellier, an internationally known celebrity. I was in Marseille in 1884 on a "begging call". This doctor had travelled by train through the night of March 25th to visit me. He examined me carefully for over an hour and then concluded: "You have spent life in too much work. You are like a threadbare suit, because it was always worn, holidays and weekdays. I do not think that we can repair the damages. However to keep this suit again for a while, the only way would be to place it in the cloakroom: I mean that the main medicine for you would be absolute rest ". I remember my reply: "Unfortunately it is the only remedy to which I cannot subject myself. How can one rest, when there is so much work to do? ".


A "worn-out dress": here is the finest eulogy given me. I had really given my whole self to the cause of young people. To those who wished me a long life, I replied: "huh, well, I think of the things the Lord would see if he allows me to reach 80 or 85 years,! I can work as much as possible, quickly, because I see that time is running out, and, for the many years one lives, one can never do half of what one should. When the bell rings to give me the signal to leave, I will leave. Whoever will remain in this world will finish what I have left to do. But, until I hear my bell ring, I will not give up. "