Volume miscellaneo che raccoglie interventi e conversazioni dell’Autore con i responsabili degli studenti universitari di Comunione e Liberazione svoltisi negli anni 1990 e 1991 (Equipe del CLU); si tratta del settimo volume della serie “L’Equipe” edito nella collana “I libri di Luigi Giussani”.
I testi, raccolti in ordine cronologico, sono preceduti dalla prefazione intitolata Il vivere che non «taglia le gambe», redatta da Julián Carrón (pp. I-X), curatore dell’opera.
Ogni Equipe è anticipata da una nota storica a cura di Onorato Grassi (in corsivo nel testo) che contestualizza l’evento. Come riferito nella Nota editoriale (p. 6), in occasione della redazione del presente volume tutti gli scritti sono stati rivisti sulla base della documentazione, scritta e audio, conservata presso l’Archivio della Fraternità di Comunione e Liberazione; è stata mantenuta la forma orale dei dialoghi e delle conversazioni.

1990

Il primo testo, “Come un bel giorno” (“Assemblea”, pp. 9-47), riporta la conversazione fra Giussani e i partecipanti all’Equipe svoltasi a Milano il 10 febbraio 1990, nella quale fu messo a tema l’intervento dell’Autore alle vacanze internazionali dell’agosto precedente, editato con il titolo “Come nasce un movimento” in 30 Giorni (2, 1990: pp. 4-13. Con successive traduzioni).
Nell’aprile 1990, una sintesi della prima parte dell’assemblea (pp. 11-34) è stata pubblicata in CL-Litterae Communionis con il titolo “Quello che abbiamo di più caro” (4, 1990: inserto) e, senza variazioni, in CL-Rivista di Comunione e Liberazione in Svizzera con il titolo “Quello che abbiamo di più caro: Conversazione con Luigi Giussani” (6, 1990: pp. 22-26). 
Il testo che costituisce la seconda parte dell’assemblea (pp. 34-47) è inedito.

Segue “L’inesorabile presenza” (pp. 49-107), testo relativo all’Equipe svoltasi il 26 maggio 1990 a Milano (Bruzzano). L’incontro con gli studenti ebbe come oggetto di discussione il lavoro fatto sul testo dell’Equipe del febbraio precedente (cfr. pp. 9-47), il Volantone “Pasqua 1990” (p. 51) e le elezioni amministrative.
L’“Assemblea” (pp. 51-85) è inedita, mentre della “Sintesi” (pp. 86-107) esiste una precedente versione, più breve e suddivisa per punti, editata con il titolo “Riflessioni su un impegno vissuto” in CL-Litterae Communionis (9, 1990: inserto. Con successive traduzioni).

“La lama sottile della libertà” (pp. 109-213) riporta gli interventi dell’Autore e le conversazioni con gli studenti durante l’Equipe che si svolse ad Arabba dal 21 al 26 agosto 1990. Le parti “Assemblea 1” (pp. 111-133), “Omelia” (pp. 134-136), “Serata su Mozart” (pp. 137-140), “Assemblea 2” (pp. 164-197) e “Lezione 2” (pp. 198-213) sono inedite.
Nel 1990, una sintesi piuttosto rimaneggiata di quanto detto, che nel presente volume corrisponde alla “Lezione 1” (2013, pp. 141-163), è pubblicata in forma di opuscolo con il titolo Promessa compiuta. Non menzogna: Appunti da una conversazione di mons. Luigi Giussani con degli universitari: Agosto 1990 (supplemento a Il Sabato, novembre 10, 1990). La redazione del testo risulta essere una commistione tra quanto detto all’Equipe del CLU e l’intervento di Giussani alle vacanze internazionali che si tennero sempre ad Arabba nei giorni immediatamente successivi, dal 26 al 31 agosto. Da quest’ultimo intervento, mai pubblicato integralmente, sono tratti i punti 2. “Il battesimo: inizio di una personalità nuova” (pp. 8-9) e 11. “Un «cuore sincero»: breve lama della libertà” (pp. 24-25; dati reperiti presso l’Archivio della Fraternità di Comunione e Liberazione). 
Nel 1993, lo scritto uscito nel 1990 è rieditato con il titolo “Promessa compiuta, non menzogna” in Un avvenimento di vita, cioè una storia: Itinerario di quindici anni concepiti e vissuti: Interviste, conversazioni, interventi di monsignor Luigi Giussani a partire da registrazioni, non rivisti dall’autore (a cura di Carmine Di Martino. EDIT: Il Sabato, 1993, pp. 267-289; poche modifiche di carattere redazionale rispetto all’edizione 1990). Il paragrafo conclusivo dal titolo “Non abbiamo altro che Cristo” (pp. 286-287) corrisponde all’ultima parte del paragrafo 11. “Un «cuore sincero»: breve lama della libertà” di Promessa compiuta. Non menzogna (1990, p. 25). 
La redazione proposta nel presente volume (BUR, 2013), rivista sulla base dei nuovi criteri sopra indicati, è più ampia, dettagliata e riporta esclusivamente quanto detto dall’Autore all’Equipe.

1991

Il capitolo “L’avverarsi della vita tra noi” (pp. 217-250), relativo all’Equipe svoltasi a Milano il 2 febbraio 1991, raccoglie l’intervento dell’Autore di “Introduzione alle Lodi” (pp. 219-220) e il testo dell’“Assemblea” con gli studenti (pp. 221-250). Entrambi gli scritti sono qui pubblicati per la prima volta.

“La fisicità dell’avvenimento” (pp. 251-275) riporta l’incontro svoltosi a Milano il 24 giugno 1991. In quell’occasione l’usuale raduno con i responsabili universitari, previsto prima dell’estate, fu sostituito da un incontro detto Centro del CLU allargato (cfr. p. 251) ed ebbe a tema il testo dell’Equipe dell’agosto 1990 (cfr. pp. 109-213), la scuola di comunità, le elezioni universitarie, le convivenze di studio e gli Happening (cfr. p. 254).
Apre il capitolo il testo del Volantone “Pasqua 1991” tratto dall’opera di Charles Peguy Véronique (p. 253), il brano fu oggetto di riflessione durante l’incontro e di meditazione per tutto l’anno.
La parte intitolata ​“Assemblea” (pp. 253-275) è qui pubblicata per la prima volta; fa eccezione il passaggio corrispondente alla pagina 273, già pubblicato con il titolo “Il compito delle vacanze” in Litterae Communionis-Tracce (7, 1999: p. 108. Con successive traduzioni).

“La traversata della vita” (pp. 277-338) è il testo della prima Equipe internazionale del CLU tenutasi a La Thuile dal 21 al 27 agosto 1991, alla quale parteciparono circa settecento responsabili di tutte le comunità presenti nel mondo (cfr. pp. 278; 284). 
Per quanto riguarda la “Lezione 1” (pp. 279-298), vi è un’edizione del 1992 che differisce dalla stesura BUR (2013): si tratta dello scritto “Dalla natura il terrore della morte; dalla grazia, l’audacia” edito in Il Sabato (gennaio 25, 1992: pp. 47-53. Con successive traduzioni) e successivamente riproposto nel volume miscellaneo Un avvenimento di vita cioè una storia (EDIT: Il Sabato, 1993, pp. 307-317; minime variazioni nel testo, suddivisione in paragrafi titolati). 
L’“Assemblea” con gli studenti (pp. 299-319) è un testo inedito, fa eccezione un breve passaggio corrispondente alle pp. 313-314 del presente volume, pubblicato nel 1991 con il titolo “Il compito” in CL-Litterae Communionis (11, 1991: p. 15. Con successive traduzioni). Si tratta della risposta dell’Autore a una domanda posta da uno studente sul tema della vocazione alla verginità.
Chiude il capitolo la “Lezione 2” (pp. 320-338). Nell’ottobre 1991, il mensile 30 Giorni pubblica per la prima volta gli appunti della lezione con il titolo “Qui salvandos salvas gratis” (30Giorni, 10, 1991: pp. 37-44. Con successive traduzioni). In seguito, lo scritto è rieditato più volte in forma pressoché identica: con lo stesso titolo si trova in CL-Litterae Communionis (1, 1992: inserto. Con successive traduzioni) e in Un avvenimento di vita cioè una storia (EDIT Editoriale Italiana: Il Sabato, 1993: pp. 291-304; poche differenze di carattere redazionale); con il titolo “Qui salvandos salvas gratis: A proposito di perdono” è riproposto in Litterae Communionis-Tracce (2, 1997: inserto. Con successive traduzioni).

In “Appendice” sono raccolti i testi dei primi Volantoni di Pasqua: “Pasqua 1982. Cristo la compagnia di Dio all’uomo” (pp. 341-345), “Pasqua 1983. Le Christ est ressuscité” (pp. 346-347), “Pasqua 1984” (p. 348), “Pasqua 1985” (p. 349), “Pasqua 1986” (p. 350), “Pasqua 1987” (p. 351), “Pasqua 1988 (p. 352) e “Pasqua 1989” (p. 353).

Il volume si chiude con la “Legenda” (pp. 355-358), gli “Indici” (pp. 359-372) e il “Sommario” (pp. 373-374). [C. C.]

1990
Like a Beautiful Day
The fall of the Berlin Wall had just taken place, and the Eastern European countries were preparing, for the first time after a long regime, to look out on the free West. The end of totalitarian regimes brought the twentieth century to an early close by raising a strong question among the university communities of Communion and Liberation about the meaning of history and destiny. In the words of journalist Andrea Emo in an article in La Repubblica, the Church—after playing a leading role in history for many years and then assuming the no less glorious part of antagonist—had become in those years more like a courtesan. This provocation had sparked a strong debate both at a university and in School of Community meetings, until it became the starting point of the Equipe. To be a courtesan is to live history with no creative contribution, with no meaning of the goal of everything. Though in betrayal, the Church cannot be the courtesan of history because it is structurally conscious of the love for Christ. At the center of a Church lived as such is the individual who lets himself be grasped by Christ; as in Camus’ “beautiful day,” Christ is suddenly able to touch everyone’s life and “stick” the sands of the present, of present circumstances, to the light of a new truth. The individual who is thus formed is launched into a continuous search for the goal of everything, from the morning prayer to the day’s work. Therefore, the normality of everyday life becomes, from meaningless effort, the place of love for God and for people, for if the meaning of every single moment is clear, there is nothing small—that is, useless—that cannot lead to great love. When life is lived according to its purpose, that is Christ, every gesture becomes a testimony of His Presence even to the point of martyrdom, which is brightness and intensity of love in affirming the truth. Thus, the center of everything is the person who, however, for fear or inattention, may reactively respond to the demands of reality or take refuge in a kind of religious intimism. In the face of this double reduction, the only possible way to restart is to recognize that there is something that comes before the subject, a Reality to which everything belongs and toward which everything is oriented. For this reason, the harder times are, the more it is the subject that matters, it is the person that matters, for that person is the only one who can affirm “what comes first.”  Christ has become encounterable within a companionship of people, where the newness brought by His presence cannot be reduced. The fundamental aspect of the companionship is that it is guided. Therefore, following is the condition needed to prevent what “comes first” from being reduced to the imagination of the individual. The soil of such a companionship is the School of Community, which is configured as a path along which reason can become ever greater and more aware. At the end of this path (what comes first, the companionship, School of Community) is the missionary passion that moves each individual to create works, that is, the ephemeral realities that embody the eternal.

An Inexorable Presence
The year 1990 was also the year of the “Panther,” a phenomenon that had a wide appeal in the media but with no great consequence in the concrete reality. For a few months there was again an atmosphere similar to that of 1968, when some groups of university students, close to the experience of social centers, organized protest demonstrations though never escalating to incidents of actual violence. In this situation, CLU students questioned deeply what it meant to be a presence in the university. This question was supported by a new, more conscious commitment in governing bodies through Cattolici Popolari [People’s Catholics], in managing the CUSL [University Cooperative for Study and Work], and in study aid. The discoveries aroused by this intensity of life were not long in coming, and a new definition of freedom, understood as rediscovery and love for reason, became the cornerstone of all the activity carried out in universities. For many, this position was documented by a weariness that finally no longer showed any kind of shadow or doubt about what was being done, but only required physical rest for the energy that was being spent in the initiatives promoted. A kind of weariness that arose from a real commitment laden with reasons, by those who had served the truth with great love. Work also began at the same time on the Easter Poster, which was the real driving force behind their presence at the university. The Poster reproposed the Presence of Christ as the cornerstone of life, understood not as a set of moral notions, but rather as a real and inexorable presence capable of moving man in everyday life. His Presence here and now—as it was repeatedly said—is the only one capable of moving man. In short, this is the authentic Christian message—Christ became flesh, picking up a time and space, and identified with a present physical reality. His presence thus finds its culmination in the Eucharist, made visible and tangible by the Christian companionship. The companionship therefore has as its greatest value that of being a sign of Christ. The condition for everyone to recognize the person of Christ in the companionship is asking for His presence to be manifested, to be made certain. You cannot think about the companionship without experiencing a “shiver of prayer.” In short, virginity is the true position for men and women to recognize Christ by looking at the companionship. Virginity is, in fact, a relationship with reality that does not break the connection with the totality of meaning; again, this is made possible only by authentic prayer. There are two results of this—the exaltation of normality and mission. When permeated by His gaze, normality suddenly becomes dense and tense according to its truth, that is, being a relationship with the infinite, a relationship with that Presence. As we saw earlier, this is sustained by the normality of those moments of prayer that, together with the sacraments, uphold our consciousness in daily life. Thus, our emotion for His Presence becomes a lifetime emotion and enlightens, softens and adorns the nature of each and every moment. The wonderful consequences of this are respect for what we are doing, loyalty to the actual work, and tenacity in pursuing the goal. From the normality we experience in the companionship of Christ comes the mission, defined as emotion for the beauty of truth and the certainty of destiny. This way a man gets up in the morning, goes through his family life, his work environment and the provocations that social life brings about, entering securely because he is rooted in the great Presence of Christ, asking for that same life to be fulfilled in his friends and throughout the world.

The Thin Blade of Freedom
The Happenings organized in many Italian cities by university students gathered thousands of people, involving them in exciting debates, exhibitions and performances. CLU’s public presence was now a consistent and socially relevant phenomenon. Such ferment also started to involve the countries behind the Iron Curtain; moved by emotions of freedom and truth, these countries were beginning to open up to the experience of Communion and Liberation, also thanks to the many relationships woven during the years in hiding. Thus, the first vacation of CLU of Eastern countries was held in Poland, attended by Poles, Hungarians, and Czechoslovaks, along with a small group of Italians. Again, one of the biggest challenges in this newness of life was related to the meaning of the word presence. First and foremost, Fr. Giussani called for the need to “break through and debunk” the concept of presence from all the activities born within the community. Indeed, the true center of presence is solely and exclusively the person, the “I” of each one of us. The person is the performer, the protagonist of the faith that began with Baptism. The characteristic of this new personality starts from the essential question “what do I want?”; and the answer to this question coincides with the road towards the knowledge of Christ. Outside God’s plan for the world revealed by Christ, life would inevitably undergo the contradiction of death and one’s own evil. This plan affirms, in fact, that suffering is “in function of” a perfection, a freedom, where the redemption of our body and soul takes place. A distinctive factor in a Christian’s life, therefore, is the awareness of being saved. Other aspects of a new personality are joy and confidence, which arise from the awareness that a deeper reality of work, of emotional relationships, of life in general, is not attachment to what we have but to the truth of what we have. So we have two alternatives–either a destructive loneliness due to our own attempt to possess, or this emergent and constructive positivity. The choice of the latter cannot take place except within a vocational companionship, capable of supporting the individual in breaking from the appearance of things, from possessing instinctively, in order to affirm its truth. Thus, the only way for a new personality to be born is through following. Precisely from here comes another aspect of the new man, which is peace. Peace is the righteousness of your relationships with your girlfriend, your friends, your work, and more in general with things. But none of this would be possible without the initiative of Christ, “Christianity,” Wittgenstein said, “is not a doctrine; it is not a theory of what was or of what will be of the human soul. Rather, it is the description of a real event in the life of man.” Recognizing Christ, adhering to Him, creates a new personality that is capable of forgiveness since evil no longer defines the plan of a person. This implies an inevitable positivity of life, outside of which there is only the distraction that the world proposes. Thus begins a struggle between sense and nonsense, between belonging to the Lord or to the world of nothingness and falsehood. In between these two positions is the “steel blade” of freedom, which can either say yes or no. The first outcome of this struggle is the awareness that Being is greater than any weakness. The concluding statement in the Bible, “Come, Lord Jesus,” expresses this awareness as acceptance that God is stronger than all things and that the answer to human evil is mercy. God’s redemption through Christ takes place in human life. This generates three implications—the first is that the way you feel yourself coincides with the You of God the Creator; the second is the birth of a companionship, and so a friendship, affirming the destiny of the other; and the third is forgiveness toward all of your misery and the misery of other people.

1991
The Fulfillment of Life among Us
1991 was the year of the Iraq War, the first major conflict with Western powers since World War II. Pope John Paul II’s personal messages to prevent such a clash were to no avail. The entire CL community took a stand with a public leaflet affirming that true peace was not just laying down arms, but required taking part in the history that sprang from the Event of Christ. Among CLU students, meanwhile, there continued to be an opening toward new communities, where interest in Christianity was increasingly vibrant. In the opening assembly of the equipe, Fr. Giussani insisted a great deal on the nature of the Christian event as an objective and real fact, capable of working a change in the person who welcomes it. A change of this kind is, in fact, the indispensable condition for the whole world to change. This is also the case with the companionship, which finds its origin in something that “comes first” with respect to itself, it comes from the presence of Christ, which leads all those touched by it toward the pursuit of a common destiny. The two wondrous consequences of this are a passion for daily existence and mission. The care for another person’s suffering is the sign of the encounter that overcame the confusion and loneliness of life by filling it with joy. From this change in life comes the richness of a word, a discourse, that would otherwise be falsehood, devoid of the judgment that gains strength from experience. Another aspect of a life changed by Christ is the relationship with reality, experienced no longer as possession but as gratuitousness—and just because everything is grace, a gift from God and not created by man, we can only look at it as not belonging to us, as given by Another. From possession experienced as grace comes the joy that distinguishes those who experience the certainty of happiness, of the Eternal, and through which Christian works can be generated. This has a definite origin and that is Baptism, that is, God made flesh, taking on human flesh. The root of a change in each person is in this beginning, a change that requires the tenacity of faithfulness and with time lived as patience.

The Physicality of the Event
Because of overlapping agendas, the Equipe, planned before the summer, was replaced by an enlarged CLU center. Fr. Giussani’s texts were increasingly used in Schools of Community, and this gave great vibrancy to the debates, both within groups and in large public gestures. Being open to more and more students had become the hallmark of the life of the various communities inside universities. Moreover, the elections that took place in many universities had offered opportunities to reflect on the faith they had encountered and how they could communicate it to the surrounding world. The first assembly was held after Easter, and that year’s Poster was the main theme of discussion. The focus of the assembly was an attempt to redefine the nature of the Christian event. The first aspect that defines Christianity is the “physicality of the event”—something you can encounter, experience. The presence of Christ is real and physical. The only attitude that can prevent us from recognizing the Mystery made flesh is our fear of letting be grasped, a fear that can block us but has no reason to exist. In fact, all of life must be lived in the memory of Christ, and this is an effort that can be overcome only by the person who decides to belong. Belonging is also the greatest paradox in the eyes of the world, in that it belongs only to those who affirm Something other than themselves as most important. The locus of such belonging is the School of Community, an indispensable tool for “ascending the event from within,” that is, for becoming more and more aware that the fact of Christ is a reality you can physically encounter. The memory of the event coincides exactly with this ascent. Such work presents at least three reasons that make it desirable—first, because man’s supreme interest is truth, and God is the truth of life; second, because every step along this road is a source of surprise and happiness; and finally, because life lived in this way produces the only flower on the plant of existence, namely, mission. Above all, mission means communicating to the other person the reasons for the very experience of your own conversion; this makes you ascend from within to the Event encountered. Thus, your true effort is memory, the only way you can increase both your self-awareness and joy, or happiness, for which life is made.

The Crossing of Life
The gathering in the summer of 1991 was the first International Equipe for CLU students. The attendance from so many different countries led to a wide-ranging work those days. As with the previous year’s text of the Equipe, the Easter Poster was still one of the major points of discussion. The starting input, however, was a quote chosen for the summer vacation and printed on t-shirts by the American community, “From nature springs the fear of death. From grace springs courage” (Saint Thomas Aquinas). Courage implies, first of all, a statement of a purpose, which is found, according to a Gospel image, on the “other side of the lake,” that is, elsewhere with regard to the one who seeks it. Thus, courage is the energetic impetus well represented by a tile by Pisano entitled La Navigazione (The navigation), related to a man who is setting out on a journey. The journey we need to set out on to reach our goal is certainly easier if we have company. Company, however, cannot replace the risk each one of us must take to adhere to our existence as a “movement toward” a present response. An alternative to this risk would be to cut off your own head or tear out your own heart. But a temptation exists in setting out on this journey, and that is when we want to measure its length and the effort required. In this sense, a quote from Giovanni Calzone, a young man from Naples who died shortly before the Equipe, sums up the character of a journey whereby “the person making all the calculations is not you.” Why then do we set out on this journey? Fr. Giussani developed his answer in four points. First, our decision comes from an event that happened, that is, a Presence that took shape in the companionship. Second, the direction of this journey is toward the “other side,” meaning that we do not belong to what we have, we see or we think we are, but that we need to head toward the great Presence from which we were born and in which we live. Third: since the human person cannot set out if not from a present, the great Presence has made itself as such. Fourth—it is the incarnation that unleashes the struggle in the world. What keeps us from this is only fear, the “cold breath of the nothingness” we come from, which is translated into exalting irrelevancies, exalting pettiness. Fear comes from that underlying but ever-present thought that leads to doubt that the Presence encountered is real. A response to this fear is the positivity of reality that persists—things continue to exist—as well as the impressiveness of personal needs. Companionship is anticipated as an antidote to fear, for the companionship in which Christ makes Himself present is also an irreducible presence. Thus, companionship is the harbinger of the other side of the lake and human beings can only belong to Him. In this way a new person is born, whose identity is defined by the word “miracle”: a human reality that is experienced every day, with no exceptional emphasis, no need for exceptions, but that is permeated by the awareness of a Presence. The perception of the mystery of Christ is not possible without the concreteness of reality, without the companionship. Therefore, change only demands time and faithfulness to a definite place. In the second lesson, the focus turns back to the text of the Easter Poster, where the current world, following Péguy’s observation, is defined as “unchristian,” that is, a world where there is no longer any room for Christianity, which no longer wants Christianity. The worst sign of this rejection is that human miseries are no longer recognized as a sign of original sin, which modern society and culture have attempted to erase. As a result, all mankind no longer perceives itself to be facing its destiny, since its miseries are no longer conceived of as a denial of God. The roads that open wide in the face of this forgetfulness are therefore the nihilism of those who say that nothing is worthwhile and that everything is basically the same, and the presumption of those who would like to replace their relationship with God with something else. On the other hand, those who do not break this bond with Christ see their miseries as a call to the loving gaze of a Presence, the only one that can bring them to recognize they are sinners. The existence of forgiveness is the watershed between Christian misery and misery with a non-Christian approach. But all of this is possible because, as Péguy pointed out, “Jesus came” and He cut short “making Christianity.” The source of mercy thus became flesh and established a connection with mankind—this is Christianity. Saying yes to this connection is called a “decision for existence.” This way, the day becomes a real struggle, a real drama, where the perception of one’s own inadequacy and inability is the need for Christ, who is not inadequate, to “handle” the person’s destiny. Christ brought to the world the purity impossible to man; to achieve this purity it is necessary to work with confidence, without lingering in critical and doubting problematicism. In conclusion, human life is one great prayer, as the liturgical prayer of the 20th Sunday of Ordinary Time says, “We pray to you, Lord, so that in loving You in all things and above all things, we will obtain the good things You promised and which are beyond all desire.”