A Commotion That Brings Everyone Together Again
Simone Riva - According to tradition, the episode occurred in Rimini, a city controlled by various groups of heretics. No one was willing to listen to the preaching of the Franciscan friar who had arrived as a missionary. Anthony then took an unusual step, addressing the men with these words: "Since you prove to be unworthy of the word of God, behold, I turn to the fish, to confound more openly your unbelief."
The fish came en masse to the sea's surface to listen to Anthony of Padua. Many painters throughout history have depicted this anecdote from the saint's life, including the Swiss artist Arnold Böcklin (1827-1901). Böcklin's work struck a chord with another artist, Lucio Dalla. After seeing it in Zurich at the Kunsthaus museum, Dalla was inspired to travel to the Tremiti Islands and write the song "Com'è profondo il mare" (How Deep the Sea Is) in 1977.
This week's Calabria sunsets inspired me to search for words to express what the eyes see and what no photograph can capture. I came across a song by Lucio Dalla, the first for which he also wrote the lyrics. At one point, he says it like this: "Meanwhile, a mystic, perhaps an aviator, invented the commotion that brought everyone together again—the beautiful with the ugly, with some damage to the ugly, who were handed a piece of mirror so they could look at themselves. How deep is the sea. How deep the sea is."
One cannot get used to certain spectacles, like the one the sun creates every evening, as if it wants everyone's eyes on it. These are moments when you stop, look in silence; people on the road stop their cars and watch. Several take photographs, trying to capture those moments, those colors, those reflections, but it is a spectacle meant to be seen live, without filters.
And I asked myself, what does all this beauty have to tell us? In the time of men, filled with everything, what does this silent "incursion" of beauty remind us of if not that we are made for emotion, as Lucio Dalla writes?
A commotion that truly "brings everyone back together," touching those heartstrings that vibrate in everyone and leaving speechless anyone who has cherished the simplicity of contemplation.
And, thus, you cannot help but think that everything is made for you to notice. As St. Basil writes: "The earth produces fruit, however, it cannot enjoy it, and it produces it for your benefit." The stones do not wonder at the beauty of the mountains, the rocks do not wince at the sunset, and the plants do not rejoice at the colors of the sky. Only humans can be moved, without needing lessons on how to do it. We feel commotion not only in front of what we see but especially in front of ourselves.
Yes, this is the real emotion, the one we feel when contemplating the mystery that we are. Fragile, provisional, weak, and yet placed at the center of all reality, ready to stand open-mouthed even before that which tells of an end, like a sunset, which only to the human heart reveals its true identity: the expectation of a new beginning.
All that is beautiful opens wide to the truth. We need the miracle of the beautiful to happen again, lest we perish in forgetfulness and rely on someone else to introduce us to everything.
The author hasn’t revised the translation. Published on ilsussidiario.net. Download.
Lyrics.
