The message of tenderness” “” “

“The danger is that of remaining at the level of the head, whereas the whole mystery consists in putting the head in the heart and the heart in the head. It’s not enough to give fine speeches. We need to have an intelligence capable of transmitting itself to the other person. Communicating means transmitting a message”. So begins SIR’s interview with Jean Vanier , to mark the European Year of the disabled. Born in Canada in 1928, former officer of the Royal Canadian Navy from which he resigned in 1950, Jean Vanier founded the community of L’Arche in France in 1964. It has since spread to 103 countries throughout the world and opens its doors to people with mental disability. You often have recourse to the word “tenderness”. What do you mean exactly? Tenderness is a quality of listening, of affection. It’s a maternal quality, like that of a mother who carries her own child in her arms: by doing so she reveals to her child how important that child is and transmits a sense of security. That’s exactly what vulnerable people need: they need to be supported, reassured, even admired, to help them grow. Suffering cannot be explained, nor can it be ignored, one can only fill it with the presence of God. Do you share this affirmation? It is the whole mystery of the cross of Jesus that arouses our compassion. There are two forms of compassion: first, the form that expresses itself through skills, trying as far as possible to alleviate every form of suffering; but when everything has been tried and the person is dying, or in the case of a mother who has lost her own child, what is needed is a compassion of presence, closeness, assistance. Drugs are needed to assuage the agony of a suffering person, but friendship is even more important. Has the Christian community today found a language to communicate with disabled persons? There exist parishes that know very well how to accept those suffering from mental handicaps. Communication is above all a question of listening and of showing understanding for the language of others. When verbal expression is too difficult for someone, we need to understand the language of his gestures, the message of his eyes, the expressions of his face. If the Word became flesh, the flesh must in turn become word. In many communities, however, the word is not enough and needs to be accompanied by gestures: for example, by miming a gospel parable. Does that mean that the disabled have a message to transmit, a prophetic mission to perform? Yes indeed! They teach us to listen and to communicate in the context of a personal relation. Very often this relation does not exist, because it presupposes a commitment that fills us with dread. The relation with the disabled person may be far-reaching! Often we protect ourselves from every form of poverty, from the handicapped, from those suffering from mental illness or Alzheimer’s disease. Becoming the friend of an excluded person is both a grace and a demanding act. It is an appeal to dedicate ourselves. What are your expectations for the European Year dedicated to disability? We live in a society based on competition and efficiency. It would be ingenuous to believe in a change of mentality. What we need to hope is that ever more communities may emerge capable of welcoming vulnerable people and showing affection for them. I am struck by the growing number of people affected by some form of mental illness, which is sometimes superficial, but which makes them unable to perform a job. The problem is enormous, because the hospitals for the mentally ill are closing down, psychiatrists are becoming increasingly rare and residential homes are thin on the ground. But I often meet people who confide to me that they are regularly received in a community or who meet a priest every fifteen days. That’s great!