LIVING THE RISK OF LOVING HIM

One of the fundamental truths of Christianity,
a truth too often ignored, is this:
what saves is the gaze.

Simone Weil

What must we do to inherit eternal life? – someone asks Jesus. The Master responds in two ways: with his gaze and his words: «Then Jesus looked at him, loved him, and said to him…» (Mk 10,21). Let us note, Jesus’ gaze translates what lives in his heart: love. And Mark uses an important and pregnant verb here: ēgapēsen. Jesus’ love comes first, and is a free and total love. Some Latin codices have added osculatus est eum («and kissed him») next to ēgapēsen, to underline the deep affection and admiration of the Master of Nazareth. This love upsets ours, which we will later know to be rich. Yes, because he senses that Jesus’ love is not only free but also demanding, as it asks us to leave everything to follow him alone. And then he becomes sad because he has many possessions. Sadness, we can say, arises in him from two opposing drives: he feels attracted to Jesus but at the same time he also feels the attraction of the goods, of what life has given him. But the drama is not only here but in the fact that he does not grasp the strength of the Master’s gaze, which would like to make him pass from simple having to that of being, from “sell what you have” to “follow me”. Therefore, the cause of his failure lies not so much in his riches as in not having been able to grasp the risk that every great love involves. And this is what was missing from his very high generosity. Without risk, one implodes on oneself, seeking security and support in things. But it is the greatest illusion and certainly does not satisfy the heart. We read in a fragment by Renzo Barsacchi: “His fiery finger has marked me. From wound to wound… Living the risk of loving him.” Here is the wounded beauty of Christianity.

Commentary by b. Sandro Carotta, osb
Abbazia di Praglia (Italy)

Translation by f. Mark Hargreaves,
Prinknash Abbey