The proportions of the Gospel

 

Reflections on spirituality in the age of selfishness

 

Paolo Cugini

 

“One of them… turned back” (Luke 17:15).

These are the proportions of the Gospel: one in ten. A mysterious word, a figure that weighs like a cornerstone, supporting and judging the walls of our relationships. Let those who have ears to hear, listen: this is the proportion that must be taken into account in our inner reckoning, when we choose to set out on the narrow and radiant path opened by the Gospel. But one does not get used to it quickly. Time is a slow teacher, the flesh rebels, the heart tightens and hardens before ingratitude, one of the most macabre aspects of inhumanity. Who can say they are prepared, who can claim not to falter before the chill of rejection? Grace comes at the cost of effort and sweat.

Yet, inhumanity spreads like autumn fog: selfishness is the fuel that feeds towns and villages, the sap that winds through the folds of relationships. Nothing is done freely; a gratuitous act seems madness, a luxury for naïve souls. Everything is an exchange, everything is calculation. Those who wish to survive this icy storm, who do not want to be swallowed up by the tight mesh of selfishness, must arm themselves with great spirituality. One must learn the art of silence, spend long hours listening to the voice of the Mystery that dwells in the depths of the soul. Only in this way can one glimpse the light that the world can neither give nor extinguish; only in this way can one rise serenely at dawn, go out, and follow the light.

But beware: those who take the provocations of daily ingratitude too seriously risk losing themselves. The danger is real: self-esteem evaporates, willpower is annulled, the heart plunges into depression. It is a subtle trap, a spider’s web that tightens without making a sound. How does Jesus live in this inhuman climate? Here lies the mystery of his strength: He lives immersed in the Mystery of the Father, he is fully aware of himself, he does not ask humanity for what only love can give. Those who live like this, in the fullness of authentic Love, have no need for the judgement of others, are not wounded by the world’s hatred, and do not even fear the cross that awaits them.

Where the love of the Mystery reigns, the violence of hatred, inhuman indifference, and ungracious ingratitude have no power. Those who allow themselves to be enveloped by this presence, who are nourished by this light, can pass unharmed through the night of the world and, like a grain of wheat, bear fruit in due season.

This is the prophecy for our times: the proportion of the Gospel is the measure that saves, the way that liberates, the light that does not go out. We do not live by bread alone and, ultimately, we are not saved alone. But those who know how to listen to the Mystery, even in the age of selfishness, will know the true freedom and the joy that no one can ever take away.