The Event of a Father Who Awaits Us
Simone Riva - "At the heart of being a Christian is not an ethical choice or a profound idea, but an encounter with an event, with a Person, who provides life with a new horizon and, consequently, a decisive direction" (Benedict XVI, Deus Caritas Est 1).
In 2005, in his inaugural encyclical, Benedict XVI firmly established the concept of "event" as central to the essence of Christianity.
Two decades have passed, and as with all truths, it feels more pressing now to revisit that starting point than when those words were first written. The passage of time, much like water flowing under a bridge, threatens to sweep away into oblivion the hard-won discoveries made along the way. Before it appeared in an official Church document, it was Don Luigi Giussani who characterized Christianity as an event—an unexpected happening that sets in motion a new, enduring history. This is not an event like a fleeting flash, as some Protestant thinkers might suggest, but an impetus with the power to genuinely transform reality.
Don Giussani turned to this concept to rescue Christianity from the constraints it had fallen prey to—reductions to mere ethics, values, or morality. Each era seems determined to confine it within its own cage, and today, that cage appears to be one of interpretations.
Indeed, when the approach centered on the event fades, a cacophony of opinions and interpretations quickly takes its place. The discourse shifts to murky terrain where no one is genuinely interested in challenging others but merely in asserting their own presence. One need only look, for example, at how we respond to today’s pressing issues, which certainly offer ample material for reflection.
We swiftly shift from discussing the U.S. government to the Pope’s well-being, from the Myanmar earthquake to trade tariffs, from Europe’s disavowed roots to charges of neutrality. And everyone, thankfully, offers their own interpretation. Yet, we notice that amidst all this chatter, something new is missing. These are familiar refrains, perspectives exhaustively analyzed yet never capable of effecting real change. Everyone heads home satisfied with having spoken, but what impact are we truly having on the course of history?
The liturgy for the fourth Sunday of Lent presents a Gospel narrative that, if we persist in clinging to our own interpretations, we might one day feel compelled to remove from the Bible: the parable of the merciful father.
We all know the story: a father has two sons he must reclaim. One chooses to leave home, while the other has never truly been present. What approach does he take? He opts to observe his sons’ actions, staking everything—even his wealth—on their freedom. In the end, only the one who strayed most dramatically makes a genuine return. His mistake allows him to undergo his own process of verification and come back on his own terms. After the father’s embrace, what was once merely the house becomes his home. The father, meanwhile, assumes the poignant role of one who waits.
Through this parable, Christ decisively dispels all the opinions and interpretations that, in his time, had confined God to a stifling set of rules. He doesn’t waste time offering a sharper or more reasoned interpretation by revisiting the foundational tenets of Judaism that his contemporaries had abandoned. Instead, he presents himself as the new reality, the event that demands everyone’s attention and response.
We face the same opportunity today:
"When confronting life’s challenges, each of us must inevitably reveal what we hold most dear, the essence of our self-awareness—whether it is the event of faith or moral values. [...] The ‘you’ of another is integral to defining the ‘I,’ awakening a self-awareness that shapes how we engage with everything. Thus, it is our relationship with this particular ‘you’ that enables a radically different, more authentic way of existing in the world, shaped by the new self-consciousness it inspires within us. Consequently, our affiliation with this ‘you’ determines our cultural stance"
(Julián Carrón, Ti ride negli occhi la stranezza di un cielo che non è il tuo. Forum di Assago, September 26, 2015, p. VI).
Does this "you" remain an event in my life?
The author has not revised the text and its translations.
