SALESIAN SPIRITUALITY

PASCUAL CHÁVEZ VILLANUEVA

JESUS, MY FRIEND

A Childhood Memory

I have always lived among friends. I remember my childhood: "Among my companions I was much loved and feared ... On my part, I did good whenever I could, and I did no harm to anyone. My companions loved me ... Although I was very small in stature, I had the courage and strength to strike fear in much older companions." I followed the advice of my mother who told me: "In choosing friends we should be guided by experience and not by the heart." This was a lesson that I used later to guide my boys, telling them, "Always choose your friends among those you know to be good. Choose the best of them, and even with the best, imitate their good qualities and avoid their faults, because we all have faults".

In the ten years in Chieri, first as a student and later as a seminarian, I developed many wonderful friendships. With my companions I shared prayer, serious study, joy that proved contagious and a search for ideals that enriched our lives.

Friendship brings something extra to education

For me, friendship is a value to be taken seriously. It is not just another adventure in the lives of teenagers. When I was ordained priest, I came into contact with many young people who had been torn from their families and cultural ties and catapulted into the big bustling city of Turin. My first experience in the field convinced me of one thing – either I won over these young men with kindness and goodness or I would lose them forever. This was a new approach – I was something of a pioneer.

One episode comes spontaneously to mind. I did not know the name of that young man who was holed up in the warmth of the sacristy of the church of St. Francis of Assisi that Wednesday morning, December 8, 1841. I had never seen him before. Yet when I realized that the sacristan was about to beat him with the handle of the duster, I intervened with a phrase that soon became my standard: "He's a friend of mine." I continued to use that magic word for the rest of my life. It was to become my calling card or, as we would say today, my tweet.

I used to say repeatedly: "Make everyone you meet your friend.” And I used to tell the young people: "Remember that it will always be a good day when you win over an enemy and make him your friend."

Jesus, my friend

To become a priest I had to make sacrifices, and face humiliation. In my heart I always had that dream of devoting myself completely to young people. Mind you, I did not want to be only a philanthropist - a word which was very popular at that time - who took care of many homeless and abandoned children and who just happened also to be a priest. No! I was a priest who loved the Lord so much that I wanted to make him known and loved by those young people. The affection I had for young people was a reflection of the love I had for God. He was my guide and it was to lead them to him that I went in search of those young people. I met some on the streets and in the bars. I went to visit others in their place of work or in the prison.

When I was still a teenager, I began to cultivate an intimate friendship with Jesus, and this was for me a beautiful discovery. This was something new. The devotional books of the time hardly talked about it. In fact there was a rigorous climate as a result of the Jansenist views that prevailed. God was viewed more as a judge than as a father. It was not easy to envisage the Christian life as a response of love between friends. The three years I spent in the Pastoral Institute proved providential for me. There I learned to become a priest with clear ideas and with an open heart to trust people and to trust in the mercy of a loving God.

Many of the boys with whom I became friends were orphans. They needed to be able to discover in the Lord, a faithful friend, someone they could trust without hesitation. When I heard their confessions I shared with them a secret: Jesus is a friend who always assures us of the Father's forgiveness. I used to insist on God’s mercy. I would say only a few words, but they were sufficient to arouse in their hearts the longing for God. Hope and joy returned to their lives, because they felt loved. I used to tell them: "The priest in confession is a friend who wants nothing else but the good of your soul. He is a doctor who can heal the soul. He is a judge, not to condemn you, but to absolve you and make you free." I constantly advised my Salesians: "Do not make confession difficult or unpleasant by impatience or scolding."

I conceived the Christian life as a continuous asceticism. It was not enough to receive forgiveness, there was also need of a special food. That's why I insisted on the value of Holy Communion. I did not impose it on the young people, but simply recommended it. "Some say that to take Communion often you have to be a saint. That is not true. Communion is for anyone who wants to become a saint. Remedies are given to the sick, and food is given to the weak. I was convinced that everyone needs Communion: the good need it to stay good, and the bad need it to become good."

I did not allow approaching my friend Jesus in the Eucharist to become a habit, even though it would have been a good habit. Going to communion demands commitment and consistency of life. On this point I did not relent, because with the young people I was never a soft educator. I knew they were capable of generosity and sacrifice, and experience confirmed this. So I was not afraid to ask them: "What kind of communion will it be if it does not produce any improvement in your life?”.

In 1855 I managed to convince the minister Rattazzi to allow me to bring all the young prisoners in the Generala for an outing, but without the presence of guards and wardens. When they returned in the evening, not one of them was missing. The minister was surprised and asked me what my secret was. I told him: "The state only knows how to command and punish, but we speak to the hearts of young people and the word we speak is the word of God."

I recommended my Salesians to "get the young people to fall in love with Jesus." This was not a very common expression in my time, especially from the mouth of a priest! I used to speak of Jesus as a friend and I would say to the boys: "How much good this friend will do you. You know that I am talking about Jesus. Go to receive him frequently, but receive him well. Keep him in your heart, Go and visit this friend of yours fervently. He is so good that he will never abandon you."
I frequently teased the young people with questions that went straight to their hearts: "How is it that we feel so little relish for spiritual things? It happens when we are not really in love with Jesus."