Conference given to women in Viña del Mar in 1946

A curious thing, a cruel paradox. Never before has the world shown such desire for pleasure yet never before has there been greater collective suffering than that seen today. To the natural hunger for pleasure proper to man, there has been added a series of discoveries that promise to make this life a paradise: the radio that gladdens the solitary hours; the cinema that harmonizes in a fantastic way human beauty, the charm of landscape, the sweetness of music, all woven together in dramatic arguments that enrapture the viewer entirely; the airplane that permits us to be in Buenos Aires, New York, London or Rome in the space of a few hours… the solitude of the Andes Mountains invaded by thousands of tourists enjoying yet a new form of pleasure: the vertigo of danger; the press that enters all doors, even the best guarded, stimulated by curiosity, tempted by the possibility of a story and photographs. Parties, excursions, casinos, regattas, all for pleasure… Nonetheless, a curious fact, the world is sadder now than ever before; it has been necessary to invent medical techniques to cure sadness. In the face of this contemporary anguish many solutions are sought on a daily basis.

Some solutions of the evasive sort. In its minimal form: escape in order to think, to stupefy oneself… The radio, automobile, the casino and games of chance all function well as solutions of this type, to the ruin of the interior life! One keeps, I dare not say occupied but perhaps busy doing something, that permits us to escape from ourselves, to evade our problems, to avoid difficulties. It is the eternal policy of the ostrich. Take the tourists who come to our beautiful beaches, what else are they doing here in summer except this. Beach, shower, sun bathing, a drink before lunch, lunch, games, terrace, a movie, casino, on and on until one’s eyes close in sleep only to awaken the next day to continue, not to enjoy but to stupefy oneself. This policy of evasion leads some even further, to morphine, to opium which is becoming acceptable, to alcohol, far too acceptable and even to suicide. I will never forget one that I myself witnessed in Valparaiso.

Others, deeper thinkers, do not follow the path of evasion but rather confront the problem philosophically and arrive at doctrines that consist in a classification of pessimism.

For both groups, the bottom line, acknowledged or not, is that life is sad, a great suffering that ends with a great failure: death. Nonetheless, life is not sad but joyful, the world is not a desert but a garden; we are born not to suffer but to enjoy; the goal of life is not to die but to live. What philosophy teaches us this doctrine? Christianity!

There are two ways of looking at yourself in this life: as the product of matter, the evolution of matter, son of the monkey, niece of the tree, grandson of the rock or, from another point of view as the Son of God. To put it another way, as a product of spontaneous generation, of the inorganic, or rather as the result of the Love of a God all powerful and the source of all good.

It is clear that for the person who considers himself the son of matter and only matter, the panorama cannot be very consoling. Matter has neither human depth, nor heart, nor ears to hear the pleas of others, nor eyes to see their tears.

But for him who knows that his life does not come from nothingness but from God, the change is total. I am the work of God’s hands. He is responsible for my life. And I know that God is Beauty. All the beauty of the universe is drawn from Him as from its source. The flowers, the fields, the heavens are beautiful because, as St. John of the Cross says: “He passed by these groves, pouring out his graces, leaving them clothed in his beauty.”

The Christian does not pass through the world with his eyes closed, but rather wide open, and he rejoices, he delights and his spirit is stretched and enlarged by nature, music and all the arts because he knows that all these are footprints of God, that all is beautiful and the flowers do not wither… because their most complete and ultimate beauty is to be found in God alone.

God is love, says St. John in an attempt to define Him, and we have placed our confidence in the love of God (1Jn 4,8.16). All that love has of beauty, of tenderness: between father and son, husband and wife, friend and friend, all this we will find in Him, for He is friend, lover and even more, Father. We are so accustomed to this revelation of the divine paternity that it doesn’t surprise us. God, Lord, yes, but Father? A real Father? And really, He is truly Father: “So that we may be called and be the sons of God” (1Jn 3,1). When you pray… My Father and our Father! Father who provides us with clothing and food, Father who receives us with open arms despite our sinful failures as His sons. If we take this idea with profound seriousness, how can we fail to be optimists in this life?

Suffering and pain: not even death itself can dim the profound joy of the Christian. How the ancients feared death! The great defeat! On the other hand, for the Christian it is not a defeat but a victory: the moment when we will see God. This life has been given us to search for God, death to find Him and eternity to possess Him. The moment arrives when after walking the path, one arrives at the end. The son finds his Father and throws himself into His arms, arms of love that were nailed to the cross that they might never be closed. He enters into the side pierced with a lance to show his love; from it flowed the blood which redeems and the water that purifies (cf. Jn 19,34).

If the journey seems heavy to us let us think that perhaps the end is near. In our journey from Santiago to Viña, we are perhaps arriving in Quilpué… And if we think that the time left is short, we will hurry our steps, we will do the good with greater enthusiasm, make our brothers participants in our joy because the end is near. The opportunity to suffer for Christ will come to an end, let us take advantage of the last drops of bitterness, drink them down with love.

And so, let us be contented, always contented. The Church and Christian homes should always be centers of joy and a Christian, always joyful, for a saint who is sad is a sad saint. Short prayers from the bottom of the heart, contented Lord, contented. And in order to be content, always tell God: “Yes, Father.” Christ is the source of our joy. To the extent that we live in him, we will live happily.