Promises of life

For those who love the Church of Jesus and observe it from afar, the question arises: where are the young people? Surveys and statistics seem to say they have practically disappeared.
Only a small flock of faithful remain. I, however, disagree with this view, because it gives me the impression of being concerned only, or at least primarily, with the presence of young people, or not so young, at Sunday Mass.
This conclusion would be fine if the Gospel limited itself to indicating only the Eucharistic celebration as the way of Life. But we know that is not the case.

Young people are people who, above all, seek, question, and are stimulated by answers that convince them or by the honesty of those who admit they have not yet found a completely convincing answer.
On the other hand, I am not moved by the very high attendance figures at global or national gatherings.
It has always been easy to fill the squares, and not just with religion. But filling hospitals with volunteers or soup kitchens with young people who go to serve, or seeing young men and women leave for a few months on difficult missions, shakes me even more. The paths of young people today are more diverse, because they aren't content to simply do what "has to be" done, but seek to answer deeper and more motivating questions; paths that ultimately lead to an encounter with Christ, and those who travel them generally have a premonition of this. They are the stones that build the Church, but with an architecture different from that built in previous centuries, which itself was different from that of the first centuries.

Hope is never a look back, but rather seeing the future through the fog and discerning—or at least waiting to discern—figures of liberation and promises of life. We cannot hope if we don't risk passing through caves or dark woods, if we don't want to look positively at a plowed field where nothing is yet sprouting, if we don't agree to await the day yet to come. The Gospel teaches us this. "When did we give you food or drink, when did we visit you sick or in prison?" They had lived in the breath of love without realizing that there was Someone behind it. "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom!" And he said to him, "Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise." These are signs of true hope, a hope that surprises, a hope that astonishes.
Many young people, and not so young, in the midst of a commitment sometimes chosen without a real reason, are suddenly surprised by the encounter with the One they thought was terribly elsewhere.

Seeing such enthusiasm, such generosity, such a smile even where the figure of Jesus still remains in the shadows, where we encounter a service, a commitment chosen selflessly, makes us recognize that the Lord can be found in the secret of hearts and that the gift of self that the Spirit never ceases to inspire finds ways of expression that are deeply valuable, even if their mouths are not yet capable of uttering words of adoration. If we can see the beauty of the world in every season, and we can await the beauty of the next season, how can we not live in hope when we see a sea of ​​people willing to do good? Are the servants of the owner of the vineyard called for missing? Indeed, there are some, but perhaps we need to rethink where and how we want them to work and with what words of hope we invite them.

If no one hopes, no one moves, but those who hope set themselves in motion and set the world in motion around them.

Cesare Falletti
NP August/September 2025