Reflections on the anniversary of the beatification of Rosario Livatino.
I often hear it said that in love the one who runs away wins.
No, I don’t think that’s true.
In reality, if we start from the first definition that the dictionary gives us of the verb to escape -“Move away quickly from a place, especially to avoid harm or danger”- and if we dwelt on it for a moment, we should already be able to understand that there is absolutely nothing about victory.
Those who voluntarily choose to distance themselves from another person to avoid “harm” have not won, could perhaps convince themselves of having done so, proud of having been even smarter than the other, but in reality without realizing it, they have already lost.
Because, what victory could there be in running away from the love that another person can give us, in running away only for fear of suffering?
Our nature is to lead you to escape from difficulties, because it seems simpler to us and – let’s be clear – also less painful.
Staying is more difficult and requires an act of courage.
Yes, because showing oneself vulnerable is scary, because it takes courage to love, to choose to be there every day despite everything, to hope against everything, to persevere even in storms, even when no light can be seen on the horizon. Like sailors who, at the mercy of the waves, do not despair, but continue to sail in the confident hope of touching land again.
If we think of the saints, the blessed, the silent heroes of every day, they too will certainly have had the opportunity to escape from their situations, from their realities.
It would have been so simple, yet they chose to stay.
Rosario Livatino chose to continue doing his duty despite feeling in his heart that something dark was starting to threaten his future.
Chiara Corbello Petrillo chose to open up to life, to serenely accept what the Lord had chosen for her without taking refuge in her own selfishness.
Gianna Beretta Molla preferred to give birth to her child rather than heal and survive.
Carlo Acutis spent his – albeit short – life giving himself to others without any reservations, offering his life and his suffering, due to a particularly aggressive form of leukemia, to the Lord.
And then, obviously I cannot help but remember the example of examples, our Lord; he too could have escaped: on that last night of agony in the Garden of Gethsemane, he could have pushed that bitter cup away from himself, he could perhaps have opted for another path and instead he chose to carry that cross to the end, giving proof of the greatest act of love of all.
So, no: forgive me, but in love those who run away have not won, in fact they have already lost even before playing the game.
Chiara Airoma
