Who doesn't know those distressing moments when we advance painfully on the steep road of life, strongly feeling the burden of our sins? Bent under the weight of our faults, our souls are seized by a black despair, and it seems that we are caught in a terrible vice which, unrelentingly, tightens upon us.
We are temples of the Holy Ghost, and the Trinity lives in our souls as in its sanctuary. Our Christian vocation is noble, calling us to adore God in spirit and truth, to aim well above transitory things, and to refuse to be satisfied by the momentary pleasures that the world promises to those who submit to its yoke.
After His Resurrection, Our Lord sent His Apostles on their mission: "Go, teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." There is no ambiguity in these words: religion cannot be restricted to the purely private domain.
The entire will of Christ resides in His purpose of fully adhering to the will of His Father. He glories in this union: "My will is to do that of He Who has sent Me; and for this the Father loves Me ". In His agony, He abandons Himself to the army rabble: "Father, not My will but Yours be done".
Truth cannot grow old. The years follow one another, men die, and all things pass, but only Truth remains, unspoiled, intact. Fruit of the intrinsic relation existing between intelligence and reality, Truth escapes indeed the frailty of events and of men. Even better, Truth transcends it by attaining the very being of things. What is true one day cannot become false the following day. Truth also keeps intact its power of attraction. As our intelligence naturally aspires to understand the world that surrounds us, it cannot be satisfied for long with the fables it is fed. Only Truth satisfies the intelligence.
The beauty of the churches built in the ages of faith remains one of the glories of Holy Mother Church. Centuries passed and left their mark in them, but, to the surprise of the profane, they have not lost their majesty. We know why: our churches are not only marvelous stone buildings, but they are, above all, the consecrated sanctuaries where the Divine Lamb renews His eternal sacrifice. Their beauty is not that which is common to human works. Built for the offering of the Divine Victim, they belong to the domain of the sacred and, although damaged, still they are impervious to the irrevocable insult of time.
"The child is king!" An old slogan has become reality; in fact, quite a sad reality. The child has not become king, in spite of all the promises, but only a base tyrant concerned with satisfying his whims. His parents play the unenviable role of puppets; and woe to them if they hesitate even a little in satisfying the least desire of their little darling! They risk cruel reprisals that they will not easily forget. A first salvo is immediately shot in the form of piercing cries and abrupt gestures... the life of these poor parents is like the beginning of hell, with its cries and gnashing of teeth!
Could a man deprived of love be only an unspeakable monster? In a felicitous phrase, Antoine de Saint-Exupery invites us to consider that love is above all "to look together in the same direction," and not "to look at one another." This simple, commonsense reflection forcefully underlines the fact that love is, before anything else, a union of wills and not an exhausting and sterile search for ourselves in the face of the other. Few know it; and infinitely fewer live it!
So that you do not let yourselves be contaminated by the noxious environment prevalent in these times of darkness when innumerable iniquities cry out for justice be¬fore the throne of God, we would like to invite you to stand up and fight. "Very well" - you will say - "but against whom and where? " Saint Paul magnificently answered these questions by clearly pointing out the adversary: "Do we have to fight against human potentates? Do you have to battle against flesh and blood? No. Our enemy is Satan, the Prince of this world, and his de¬mons spread out in the high places. "
Who will sing the singular charm of Easter morning, when the countryside finally wakes up from the long torpor of winter, and the sun shines with renewed strength? It seems, indeed, that nature itself shares in the joy that fills our hearts and sings the alleluia of the Resurrection. On this unique morning all is again possible: no force can oppose Christ, Victor over death. In vain, evil men weave their infamous intentions in the shadows. Their iniquitous projects lie demolished and their heinous plans have fallen away as the stone that had covered the tomb; their ridiculous efforts only make the victory of the Savior more resplendent.