AGONIA - la pandemia di sofferenza dei focolarini

 

'Oh, la tortura che insegnano!'

(dalla canzone Agony, Into the Woods, Stephen Sondheim)

Quando gli fu chiesto perché avesse lanciato il Concilio Vaticano II, Papa Giovanni XXIII rispose con una semplicità comovente: "Per rendere meno triste il soggiorno umano sulla terra".  

Anche se Chiara Lubich ha affermato che il movimento dei Focolari aveva gia anticipato il Vaticano II (ed allora non c'era bisogno di addatarsi ai suoi cambiamenti) , molti critici dei Focolari si chiedono se il movimento dei Focolari - e la Lubich - avvessero la minima comprensione del significato del Concilio.  Il commento di Papa Giovanni offre un'intuizione intrigante di questa domanda.  All'opposto delle sue intenzioni, l'ideologia di Lubich, con la sua ossessiva attenzione alla sofferenza, sembra orientata a rendere più triste il soggiorno umano sulla terra. 

Il concetto di 'Gesù Abbandonato' - che rappresenta non tanto la sofferenza fisica, ma piuttosto quella mentale e spirituale - è il fulcro della vita spirituale dei membri interni del movimento. Come disse la Lubich nel suo famoso manifesto su 'Gesù Abbandonato': 'Avrò sete di sofferenza, angoscia, disperazione, malinconia, separazione, abbandono, tormento; per tutto ciò che è Lui che soffre... Dimentichiamo tutto nella vita: ufficio, lavoro, persone, responsabilità, fame, sete, riposo, persino la nostra stessa anima... per possedere solo Lui'.  Questa ideologia fu imposta a tutti coloro che divennero membri interni del movimento.  La sofferenza divenne non un segno che qualcosa non andava, ma qualcosa da "abbracciare", persino da "amare".  Un membro interno dei Focolari, sposato, una volta scrisse una lettera a Chiara Lubich suggerendo che nel movimento ci fosse meno enfasi su "Gesù Abbandonato" e più enfasi su Gesù Risorto.  All'epoca era lontano da casa.  Quando tornò, sua moglie aveva già ricevuto una chiamata dal quartier generale di Lubich che gli richiedeva di vedere uno psichiatra dei Focolari.

Ora si sa che Lubich soffrì di estrema depressione per tutta la vita, forse di disturbo bipolare e la "sete di sofferenza" non può certo aver aiutato.  Questi problemi erano così gravi che all'inizio degli anni '90 ha trascorso più di due anni in una clinica psichiatrica in Svizzera (una biografia autorizzata della Lubich con il titolo anti-feminsta* Il Lavoro di Una Donna, Jim Gallagher, Fount, Regno Unito, 1997, afferma che  Lubichsoffriva con problemi al cuore - uno dei molti tentativi del movimento dei Focolari di riscrivere sua storia).   Questo è stato messo a tacere durante la sua vita e le sue assenze sono state definite con reverenza "notti oscure dell'anima".  In effetti è difficile discernere fino a che punto i suoi problemi mentali fossero il frutto o la causa della dottrina della sofferenza della Lubich. Dato questo approccio alla sofferenza, non sorprende che la malattia mentale, come la depressione, spesso del tipo più grave, fosse diffusa tra i membri interni del movimento, al punto che esso istituì una propria clinica psichiatrica a Roma per curare i membri dei Focolari.

Poco dopo la mia adesione al movimento, mi sono reso conto, grazie ai frequenti richiami attraverso i notiziari interni noti come "aggiornamenti" e alle informazioni dei leader del movimento nel Regno Unito, che la sofferenza, a volte terribile, era vista nel movimento come la "moneta" o il pagamento a Dio con cui si acquistavano le "grazie", come, per esempio, le conversioni al movimento.  Un esempio che mi viene in mente è avvenuto poco dopo che ho conosciuto il movimento.  Un pullman che trasportava giovani a una riunione dei Focolari in Sud America era caduto in un baratro.  Molti erano morti o gravemente feriti in questo incidente, ma si raccontava non con orrore o dolore, ma con giubilo che questo sacrificio di vite umane avrebbe portato "grazie" all'incontro a cui i giovani dovevano partecipare.  C'è uno strano paradosso tra il concetto dei focolarini di un Dio che è Amore ma che è anche in qualche modo gratificato dalle torture inflitte agli esseri umani.  La 'grazia' è un dono gratuito, ma secondo l'ideologia della Lubich deve essere 'comprata' con la sofferenza.  A parte la teologia discutibile, c'è un elemento dell'eresia pelagiana qui - il suggerimento che gli esseri umani 'guadagnino' la salvezza.  

Gran parte della "cultura" dei Focolari, come testimoniano gli ex membri interni, era orale, trasmessa da persona in persona.  L'attuale co-presidente Jesus Moran sottolinea che la "cultura" non scritta e la "mentalità" dei membri dei Focolari sono il suo bene più prezioso.  Una delle ragioni dell'enfasi su una "mentalità" o "cultura" non accessibile agli estranei è che i leader del movimento sono consapevoli che molti aspetti dell'ideologia dei Focolari potrebbero risultare turbanti agli estranei. Inoltre, molti degli scritti e delle registrazioni su nastro o video di Chiara Lubich sono resi disponibili solo ai membri interni, per ragioni simili.  Una di queste tradizioni orali, un avvertimento per i membri interni, era uno stato conosciuto come ''G.A.-ite" (G.A.=Gesu Abbandonato , come in 'appendicite', che si riferiva ad una eccessiva enfasi sull'aspetto di 'Gesù Abbandonato' e sulla sofferenza.  Ma nei nove anni che ho trascorso nel movimento, incluso il contatto personale con letteralmente centinaia di membri, tutti sembravano patire di  "G.A.-ite". E, poiché parlare tra i membri di qualsiasi cosa che non fosse il movimento e il suo spirito era disapprovato, c'erano molte opportunità di crogiolarsi in tali esperienze.

Uno dei termini più usati nei discorsi sulla vita spirituale dei membri interni dei Focolari e “prove”. Tutte e tutti soffrono continuamente di 'prove'. Le prove potrebbero essere tentazioni, dubbi, infelicità, che di solito si estendono per lunghi periodi di tempo. Queste sono viste come 'esami' del nostro valore imposte da Dio. Sono "Gesù Abbandonato" e c'e da aspettarselo. Se non stai sperimentando 'una prova', c'e qualcosa che non va. Uno dei detti del movimento e che Dio risolve una prova inviandoti una prova ancora peggiore. L'ossessione dei Focolari per la sofferenza può essere più pericolosa quando maschera gravi sintomi di depressione o malattia mentale. Questo ha certamente avuto un ruolo nei suicidi di membri interni del movimento che sono apparsi come una sorpresa totale per i loro associati dei Focolari.

Dopo aver lasciato il movimento e riadattandomi alla vita reale, ho riflettuto sul fatto che i membri interni dei Focolari non avevano nessuno dei problemi che affliggono le persone normali: relazioni, figli, preoccupazioni economiche. Eppure ho letto alcuni resoconti orribili di membri interni, compresi quelli ad alti livelli di responsabilità, chiaramente affetti da una terribile angoscia mentale, probabilmente da una depressione estrema esacerbata dalle richieste mentali e fisiche imposte dal movimento. Forse questo dimostra che è più facile impazzire preoccupandosi se stai andando all'inferno piuttosto che se puoi pagare il mutuo o la bolletta dell'acqua. Quello che è fuori discussione è che l'ossessione per la sofferenza, che è parte integrante dell'ideologia dei Focolari, e i suoi probabili legami con la malattia mentale, richiede una valutazione urgente da parte di esperti di spiritualità, teologia, saliute mentale e le autorità competenti della Chiesa cattolica.

*Il referimento e ad un detto inglese 'Il lavoro di una donna non finisce mai' - che significa lavoro di una casalinga.

AGONY - Focolare's pandemic of pain

 

‘Oh, the torture they teach!’

(from the song Agony, Into the Woods, Stephen Sondheim)

When asked why he had launched the Second Vatican Council, Pope John XXIII replied with touching simplicity: ‘To make the human sojourn on earth less sad.’  

Although Chiara Lubich claimed that the Focolare movement had anticipated Vatican II (and therefore didn't need to adapt to any of its changes), many critics of Focolare wonder whether the Focolare movement - and Lubich - really understood the meaning of the Council at all.  Pope John’s comment gives an intriguing insight into this question.  As a polar opposite to his intentions, Lubich’s ideology, with its obsessive focus on suffering, seems geared to make the human sojourn on earth more sad. 

The concept of ‘Jesus Forsaken’ - representing not so much physical suffering, but rather mental and spiritual suffering - is the main focus of the spiritual lives of internal members of the movement. As Lubich said in her famous manifesto on ‘Jesus Forsaken: ‘I will thirst for suffering, anguish, despair, melancholy, separation, abandonment, torment; for all that is He who is suffering…Let us forget everything in life: office, work, people, responsibility, hunger, thirst, rest, even our own souls…so as to possess only Him.’  This ideology was thrust down the throats of all those who became internal members of the movement.  Suffering became not a sign that something was wrong but something to be ‘embraced’ - even ‘loved’.  A married internal member of Focolare once wrote a letter to Chiara Lubich suggesting that there should be less emphasis on ‘Jesus Forsaken’ in the movement and more emphasis on the Risen Jesus.  At the time he was away from home.  When he returned, his wife had already received a call from Lubich’s HQ demanding that he should see a Focolare psychiatrist.

It is now known that Lubich suffered from extreme depression throughout her life, possibly bipolar disorder and the ‘thirst for suffering’ can hardly have helped.  These problems were so severe that in the early 1990s, she spent more than two years in a psychiatric clinic in Switzerland (an authorised biography with the dreadful anti-feminist title A Woman's Work, Jim Gallagher, Fount, United Kingdom, 1997, actually claims that she was suffering from heart problems - one of Focolare's many attempts to re-write its history). Hushed up during her lifetime her absences were referred to reverently as ‘dark nights of the soul’.  Indeed it is difficult to discern to what extent her mental problems were the fruit or the cause of Lubich’s doctrine of suffering. Given this approach to suffering, it is not  surprising that mental illness, such as depression, often of the severest kind, was widespread among internal members of the movement, to the extent that it set up its own psychiatric clinic in Rome to treat Focolare members.

Shortly after I joined the movement, I became aware, due to frequent reminders via the internal news bulletins known as ‘aggiornamenti’ and information from the leaders of the movement in the UK, that suffering, sometimes terrible suffering, was seen in the movement as the ‘coin’ or payment to God by which ‘graces’, such as conversions to the movement, were purchased.  An example that springs to mind occurred shortly after I met the movement.  A coach carrying young people to a Focolare meeting in South America fell into a ravine.  Many died or were badly injured in this accident but it was recounted not with horror or sorrow but with jubilation that this sacrifice of lives would result in ‘graces’ at the meeting the young people had been due to attend.  There is a weird paradox between Focolare’s concept of a God who is Love but is also somehow gratified by torture inflicted on human beings.  ‘Grace’ means a free gift, yet according to Lubich’s ideology it must be ‘bought’ by suffering.  Apart from the questionable theology, there is an element of the Pelagian heresy here - the suggestion that human beings ‘earn’ salvation.  

Much of the ‘culture’ of Focolare, as former internal members will attest, was oral, passed on by word of mouth.  The current Co-President Jesus Moran emphasises that the unwritten ‘culture’ and  ‘mentality’ of Focolare members are its most precious asset.  One of the reasons for the emphasis on a ‘mentality’ or ‘culture’ that cannot be accessed by outsiders is that leaders of the movement are aware that many aspects of the Focolare ideology could prove troubling to outsiders. Furthermore, many of Chiara Lubich’s writings and tape or video recordings are only made available to internal members, for similar reasons.  One of these oral traditions, a warning to internal members, was the risk of a state known as ‘Jesus Forsaken-itis’ (‘G.A.-ite’), as in ‘appendicitis’, which referred to an overemphasis on the aspect of ‘Jesus Forsaken’ and suffering.  But in the nine years I spent in the movement, including personal contact with literally hundreds of members, everyone seemed to be suffering from ‘Jesus Forsaken-itis’. And, as talk between members of anything but the movement and its spirit was frowned upon, there were plenty of opportunities to wallow in such experiences.

One of the terms used most frequently in talk of the spiritual life of internal members of Focolare was ‘trials’ (It. prove).  Trials could be temptations, doubts, unhappiness, usually stretching over long periods of time.  These were seen as God-given tests of our worth.  They were ‘Jesus Forsaken’ and to be expected.  If you weren't experiencing trials, something was wrong.  One of the movement’s sayings was that God solves one trial by sending you a worse trial. The Focolare obsession with suffering can be most dangerous when it masks severe symptoms of depression or mental illness.  This has certainly played a part in suicides of internal members of the movement which appeared to come as a total surprise to their Focolare associates.

After I left the movement and adapted once again to real life, I pondered the fact that the internal Focolare members had none of the problems that affect normal people - relationships, children, money worries.  Yet I have read some horrific accounts by internal members, including those at high levels of responsibility, clearly suffering from terrible mental anguish, probably extreme depression exacerbated by the mental and physical demands imposed by the movement.  Maybe this proves that it’s easier to go nuts worrying about whether you are going to hell than whether you can pay your mortgage or water bill.  What is beyond question is that the obsession with suffering which forms an integral part of the Focolare ideology and its probable links with mental illness, calls for urgent evaluation by experts in spirituality, theology and the competent authorities of the Catholic Church.

Focolare Movement: the Secret History

Dysfunctional families are founded on secrets.  This also applies to organisations; and it would be hard to deny that this is the case with the Focolare movement.  It is a web of secrets to such an extent that there are two Focolare movements - the internal one (totally secret), and the external one, heavily publicised,  portraying itself as a group without structure, working in the secular field for ecology, and peace and unity between peoples and religions - but this external image, according to former internal members, is merely a front.   The most notable aspects of the movement that are kept hidden from the public are: the hierarchy - rigid and vertical, facilitating abuse of internal members; the gnosis or secret teachings of Chiara Lubich, especially Lubich's visions of the 1940s known as 'the Paradise of '49'; the finances - vast but so far never publicly revealed; and, finally, the real and complete history, including the most significant negative features.  There is only the Official History which is completely hagiographic - all negative aspects removed.

It is ironic that when faced with books that reveal negative aspects and abuses in the movement, such as The Pope's Armada and La setta divina (The Divine Cult), the focolarini and adherents protest that those books say nothing positive about the movement.  But are there any Focolare books that say anything negative about the movement?   Pope Francis has said, 'The Church is not afraid of history.'  But the Focolare movement is very afraid of history.  Terrified.

Comparisons with other monolithic organisations - sects, for example, which I first discussed in The Pope's Armada back in 1995 - can be useful in an analysis of the Focolare movement.   But also totalitarian political regimes.  In fact, 'totalitarian' was a word much loved by Lubich to describe her movement and the mentality she sought to establish in her followers - the so-called 'spirituality'.  It is very illuminating, for example, to compare the movement and Soviet communism.  It is striking that Lubich herself said that in communist Eastern Europe they had all the right ideas - only God was missing.  In this context, I have discovered many illuminating comparisons.  In the preface to the book Testimony -  the memoirs of Shostakovitch by Solomon Volkov, I found this passage very resonant and I think that any former or dissident member of the focolarini would feel the same:

"In the Soviet Union, the rarest and most precious thing is memory.  It had been trampled on for decades; people knew better than to write newspapers or keep letters.  When the 'great terror' began in the 1930s, frightened citizens destroyed their personal archives, and with them their memory.  What was regarded as memory from then on was defined every day by the [official] newspapers.  History had to be rewritten with dizzying speed.

A man without memory is a corpse.  So many of them passed before me, these living corpses, who only remembered events in the officially sanctioned way."

(Testimony - the memoirs of  Shostakovitch, Solomon Volkov, Hamish Hamilton, United Kingdom, 1979)

History is vital - and a great teacher.  But in order to record the past accurately, reliable living or written memory is necessary.  As far as the other secrets of the focolarini  are concerned - the hierarchy, gnosis, finances - it is likely that somewhere the necessary documentation can be found.  But what about history - a reliable, unauthorized record of events?  The necessary independent research should have been done years ago.  What about the negative aspects and events in the movement of the 1940s and 1950s?  The witnesses are dead or have vanished.   Only the official history remains -  the endlessly repeated  'Story of the Ideal'.  Beautiful as it might be, it is as much 'history' as are the Little Flowers of Saint Francis.  

But while collaborating on La Setta divina, I read a very interesting introductory document on various (mostly negative) historical aspects that put the Focolare movement into a clearer perspective.  How is it that the Vatican's Holy Office in the early 50s ordered the destruction of Lubich's papers recounting the 'Paradise of '49', but then they reappeared and are now presented as a new doctrine, principally via a Pontifical university?  What is the truth behind so many internal problems in the movement, with an almost continuous exodus of internal members, often from important positions: the capo zonas (male and female) of Germany in the early 1970s; a request for reform from focolarini and focolarine in Trentino, Veneto and Yugoslavia in 1969 which ended with the expurgation of many members; the so-called 'purge of gnosis'; the 'renewal' (rinnovamento) demanded by the focolarini from Lubich in the 1990s - but rejected by the focolarine;  the exit of the female capo zona of Belgium with more than thirty focolarine in 2008, leaving the Belgian women's HQ empty; a second protest in 2010 by the focolarini who were received in audience by Maria Voce, the then President of the movement, and Co-President Jesus Moran, but without satisfactory results, followed by another walkout. 

The pandemic of mental illness among the focolarini is in urgent need of investigation - with the increasing evidence of suicides of internal members.  Most important of all is the mental illness of Lubich, with repeated episodes over six decades, during which she apparently remained at the apex of the movement still wielding absolute power.  What were the effects of her condition on decisions and teachings?

To build the true history of the Focolare movement, the place to start - though it is only a beginning - is with the recollections of former internal members.  One of the most important reactions of ex-members of the Focolare movement to The Pope's Armada, was the confirmation of memory: many found in it almost the rediscovery of sanity, of not being either mad or wicked, as the movement would have them believe.  This acknowledgement is of great value psychologically and spiritually.  Only insiders know at least a fragment of the truth - often heard in whispers.  Perhaps it will never be possible to know everything.  The mysteries of pagan religions have remained secret because no one has ever dared to break the ban on revealing them.  I believe that at least the broad outlines of Focolare's true history can still be known.  But it this is a major task and time is running out.