Believing: The Evidence of Experience
Julán Carrón - "Believing: Julián Carrón on "Adequate Reasons," the Crisis of Reason, and Faith as an Encounter- Belluno - Italy | October 17th, 2025
Moderator: Good evening and welcome. We are in this splendid setting, the Sala della Madonna, in the heart of the historic center of Belluno. It is a place dedicated to culture, reading, and reflection, but also to conversations and debates such as this evening's, proposed by the Charles Peguy Association in collaboration with the Municipality of Belluno.
A colloquium, a conversation, on a topic that we can define as difficult, challenging, exciting, and engaging; a topic that is decisive for the life of each of us. The topic is “believing,” as we can see from the image behind us. “Believing” is also the theme of the book that came out of the conversation between Fr. Julián Carrón—who has returned to Belluno after a few months and whom we welcome here with great pleasure this evening—and one of Italy's most renowned philosophers, Umberto Galimberti.
As we were saying, believing and faith are challenging and exciting topics. They are also difficult topics to deal with, both for intrinsic reasons and because it is not easy to talk about them in public debate. We therefore applaud the association for bringing such a challenging topic to a public place, in the center of the city, here at Madonna.
Charles Peguy, for the few who do not know, is a center for solidarity. Founded 25 years ago, it operates in Belluno with initiatives dedicated to people in difficult and fragile situations, but it also offers moments of reflection. An example of this is the meeting “Abitare il nostro tempo” (Living in our time), which we proposed last December at the Teatro Comunale: an evening that was also engaging and challenging, similar to tonight's meeting.
We are hosted by the Municipality of Belluno, represented by its mayor, Oscar De Pellegrin, to whom I give the microphone for a welcome greeting to all of you.
Oscar De Pellegrin: Thank you. Good evening, everyone, and good evening especially to our guest: welcome back to Belluno. My speech will be very brief, as I must respect the laws of electoral silence, so it will only be a short greeting.
I would like to thank Julián Carrón because in December, during a brief but very intense half-hour conversation, he conveyed something special and important to me. We have remained in contact since then, and I thank him for returning to Belluno; it is proof that that meeting left its mark. Our life is made up of signs, and this, from my point of view, is a positive sign. Thank you again for being here.
Later, we will have the opportunity to talk directly with each other. Thank you all for being here this evening to discuss a truly important topic: believing. Believing is fundamental in everything we do in life. Thank you all, have a good evening, and enjoy the talk.
Moderator: Thank you to Oscar De Pellegrin, mayor of the provincial capital. I am now happy to hand over the microphone to the President of the Sciarpe Solidarity Center, Rudi Zerbinati.
I like a definition I found some time ago, “philosopher of crisis but poet of hope,” and I believe that these are also the themes on which the pages and words of this book run. But we will have time to talk about this more calmly. Thank you, Rudi.
Rudi Zerbinati: I too would like to join in... Welcome and thank you for coming here in such large numbers to Belluno. I would like to thank the Mayor, who promoted and strongly desired this meeting, and above all I would like to thank Julián Carrón for coming to visit us again, so soon after the last time, and for engaging in this dialogue with us.
It is intended to be a discussion of those questions that each of us carries within ourselves and to which we often do not pay enough attention. I would also like to take this opportunity to ask you, if possible, to help us by contributing to the initiatives we are undertaking: we will be taking up a small collection. Thank you in advance for your attention. Have a good evening, everyone.
Moderator: Thank you, Rudi. Thank you again for being here. The book is a conversation, a dialogue with Umberto Galimberti. What kind of dialogue was it? Is it possible to have a dialogue with someone whose views are very different from your own? What was this dialogue like?
Julián: I would like to thank the Cultural Center of Solidarity and the Mayor. It is a pleasure to return to Belluno to meet you all. What [the mayor] said earlier is true: it was a very brief but very intense dialogue, and for this reason I could not refuse the invitation.
Yes, a dialogue with someone like Umberto Galimberti is a challenge. First of all, because, as you described, he is a person who has a very different position—as can be seen by reading the book—a completely different approach to life, all centered on “being Greek,” as he defines himself.
At the same time, these are encounters that fascinate me, precisely because they are an opportunity to measure myself against different people. I like to encounter difference, because it is a way of seeing whether the reasons that make me live can withstand a dialogue of such density and depth as that with Galimberti; and, at the same time, [it is an opportunity] to be challenged by the reasoning of such a demanding figure from the point of view of thought. For me, it is always a joy to have these kinds of encounters.
Moderator: The book we presented last December was also a dialogue. But have you never been tempted by monologue?
Julián: No, because there was no possibility of a monologue. It was still almost in the middle of Covid; they summoned us to the publishing house in Segrate, put us in front of a camera, and [the dialogue] began with a journalist asking us questions. We didn't know the topic, except that it was about faith or belief.
We didn't know where the bull would come out, to use Spanish bullfighting terminology. You start the bullfight without knowing what might happen. Everything was live, unexpected, nothing prepared in advance. So everything you see in the book—even the things I'd like to reread to make it much more accurate—came about like that, as a dialogue without boundaries.
Moderator: Which is one of the things that is lacking in our time.
Julián: Yes, unfortunately. But I think it is one of the most appropriate opportunities for a real confrontation, a real dialogue, where everyone is called upon not to shout or dialectically oppose their position to that of the other, but to justify their position in a dialogue with another.
Moderator: But perhaps the fear—let's call it that—of dialoguing with others also stems from a lack of trust. At the beginning of the book, I was very struck by the contrast between trust and suspicion, even in everyday things, as in the case of the student who got angry (perhaps he can tell us about it later). On the subject of trust, you write: "Without trusting or relying on someone, we cannot move forward. No one could live even in the most mundane aspects of everyday life. Trust is the oil that lubricates all the gears.“ Giussani, who was your teacher, said: ”A great, mature man is recognized by his ability to trust." However, as I mentioned at the beginning, perhaps at this moment in history, trust does not pervade our daily lives.
Julián: That's right. [Trust does not pervade] on many occasions, not because it is not present in everyday life. A week ago, I was teaching a group of students at a design high school in Como. The philosophy teacher had begun to address the topic of faith and reason and asked me if I would like to talk to them for a moment. I began by asking them what their perception of faith and then of reason was. Immediately, one of them said that it was trust, but I was particularly struck by one girl who defined it as “trust without basis, without foundation in reality.”
I kept that answer in mind and started from there in the next lesson. I said, “It's 10:30 in the morning. Can each of you tell me how many acts of trust you have performed since you got up?” They began to list them: one had gotten on the bus without asking the driver for his documents or if he was okay; another had drunk water, trusting that it was safe.
Moderator: Someone had trusted their mother who had made them breakfast.
Julián: Exactly. Then we got there. Another had listened to the teacher explaining the history lesson. So I said, “You see? Now tell me if you did all these things without any basis in reality, simply out of blind trust, or because you had every reason to trust.” Obviously, everyone had every reason to trust.
We started talking about what would be the most obvious sign that there were no reasons to trust. Imagine what happened in the Roman Empire, when the emperor couldn't trust that no one would put poison in his wine. He didn't take the first sip; he had his slave drink it first and watched him. So the emperor [only drank if] he had adequate reasons to trust, because [the slave] had tasted it first. The bus driver was there; he was also at risk. So all the actions they had taken that day had reasons to trust; they had a basis in reality.
I began to challenge that girl: “When you say that faith is trust without a basis in reality, what do you mean? If you look at the experience you had today... think about how many things we trust every day.” So trust can be reasonable. And when you don't trust, you know why you don't trust.
There I also recounted an episode that happened to me years ago, when I had just started teaching. I had begun a lesson on the Gospels, which I have since recounted many times, and I had written the word “Gospels” on the blackboard. As soon as I turned around, there was a student ready to “fire away,” saying, “You don't think we can understand anything about Jesus this way, do you?” (because that was the topic).
I asked him, “Do you think the most reasonable position is suspicion, as you said before?” And he said, “Of course, I'm not naive.” And I said, “It's obvious that you're not naive. That's why this morning, when your mother put your latte in front of you, you told her you wouldn't drink it until she showed you documentation that the coffee didn't contain poison.”
I still remember his reaction as if it were today. He, who theorized suspicion, raised his hands, furious: “How dare you say that about my mom? I've been living with her for 16 years!” And I said, “You mean you have 16 years of reasons to trust your mom, but you don't have even a minute of relationship with the Gospels to be able to trust them? What is the difference between what you did this morning in front of your latte and how you reacted to the word ‘Gospels’? The lack of adequate reasons to trust them?”
Moderator: And where can these reasons be found?
Julián: Perfect, that's the question. Because the real question of faith is the adequate reasons to trust, and everyone can find them in their own life.
Moderator: And you, Julián Carrón, where do you find them?
Julián: I found them [the reasons] in my experience. As a child, I had a sense of mystery that led me to seek the reasons for faith. Then I had the opportunity to verify them, by trusting. Trust in the sense that—and later I understood this better—it was like taking what I received as a working hypothesis, not as blind faith. It was a working hypothesis for entering into reality, using what faith offered me to verify whether, by following it and living by it, life would become more life.
This is basically what Jesus proposes in the Gospel. How does he propose to follow him? He says, “Whoever follows me will have a hundredfold.” He does not say, “Follow me regardless of everything, because I tell you so.” No. He showed things that could fill life: a glance he shared with them, a way of relating to the reality they saw in him, a way of treating people, of living life. It was like [the example] of a mother who related to her son by handing him his coffee with milk. Jesus, after showing who he was and how he related to reality and to them, could say, “Whoever follows me will have a hundredfold here below.” They could perceive it; when they saw him, they could say, “We have never seen anything like this.”
Moderator: Whereas today, faith is perceived by many, if not most, almost as an anesthetic. Not as something to be lived, but as something that shifts the horizon to a world to come—whether we call it paradise or something else—in any case, something undefined that is yet to come.
Julián: This is not Christian faith. Let's be clear: this concept is not Christian faith. Christian faith is recognizing in the present something so unique, so corresponding to man's expectation of feeling looked at in a certain way, that [man] believes only because of that fact. He believes only because he has found a person with whom he can then decide to live his life. One does not marry for what will happen in the future; one marries for the reasons one has found in encountering a human presence. When that presence appears in life, just perceiving or seeing it fills life with gratitude, with such amazement that the fact that that presence is there changes life.
Moderator: If I may ask, and if you want to say, who are some of the people who have looked at you in that certain way, who have filled your life?
Julián: For me, there have been many people. I will mention two. One, when I was growing up, who accompanied me in the most decisive moments of my maturation, when I was in college. And then Don Giussani. Even though I didn't see him very often—because I lived in Madrid and he lived in Milan—there were a series of small but very significant events that were crucial for me. I said to myself, “If I can't believe in this person, I can't believe in myself.”
Moderator: Earlier you spoke about the reasonableness of faith. At the beginning of the book, you discuss the relationship between faith and reason, and I was very struck by Galimberti's radical and clear position, which also quotes St. Thomas to justify his observation: faith and reason cannot coincide in any way.
Julián: That they do not coincide, because faith is one thing and reason is another, does not mean that there is no relationship between the two. This was the major objection of the student I mentioned earlier: for her, faith was trust without adequate reasons. Instead, as the examples showed, she had trusted because she had adequate reasons for taking the bus or drinking water. Galimberti's conception of faith is as if I were to throw myself out of a window into the void, with the rock-solid certainty that nothing will happen to me. No, this has nothing to do with faith, because Christian faith is the recognition of a presence. Present.
If we look at what the Gospels say, to stick to the facts, they followed him... think of Peter. At a certain point [Jesus] looks at him in a certain way and they begin to leave everything to follow him. It's not that you meet someone on the street who says “follow me” and the next day you leave everything by chance. Yet, even after following him, at a certain point Peter says to Jesus: 'Master, let's get to the point. We have left everything and followed you. Will we have a place? Will there be something for us?' And what does Jesus do? He refers to the promise: 'Whoever follows me will have a hundredfold [here below].' And then eternal life. This means that, despite having him in front of him, Peter was still missing something; he had not understood who he had in front of him.
But at a certain point, it amazes me, following Peter's life... after the multiplication of the loaves, everyone was “excited,” because it's not every day you see things like that, and everyone wanted to make him king. And Jesus looks at them with unique tenderness and says, “Man does not live by bread alone.” Jesus could have used that fact to “take them for a ride”; if he had done so, he would have shown himself to be untrustworthy. Instead, Jesus knew that man does not live by bread alone and that tomorrow they would need more bread. So he says, “Look, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you will not have life,” but life that lasts forever. Faced with this raising of the level of dialogue, everyone abandons him. Everyone except the twelve.
Then Jesus could have used emotional or religious blackmail, which is the worst of all: “At least you, don't leave me here.” Instead, he does not spare even his disciples: “Do you also want to leave?” And then Peter—the same Peter who had not understood before—what does he answer? “Lord, where shall we go? Only you have words that fill life.” What he did not understand before, he now understands: he understands that the true answer to his thirst for fulfillment was right in front of him. It was a presence.
You can understand this [by making a comparison]: when you find the person you love, it's not that they give you a gift; the person you love is something else compared to everything else, to all your friendships, to all your gifts. This happens with a person. And when you find [Jesus], you understand what the Gospel says: “We have never seen anything like it.” The more they lived with Him, the more they became attached, the more they “stuck” to Him. That is why each time it was like filling up even more with reasons to adhere, to recognize that with that presence, their whole life was different.
Moderator: Speaking of presence, but also of words. I take another cue from what Galimberti writes: “If I remove the word ‘God’ from the contemporary world, I still understand reality.” Today, the word ‘God’ has been replaced by other key words, especially ‘technology’ and ‘money’. He insists a lot on the word ‘technology’. How can we put the word ‘God’ back at the center to combat this technology that pervades everything in a way that is even distressing? (And ‘distress’ is a word that comes up again, but we'll see that later).
Julián: The only way to put God back at the center is to have a total experience of Him, such that one can understand the difference between what God brings to life and what technology brings. We are all full of devices, but what has changed in life from a substantial point of view? I would not trade for anything a moment of relationship with a presence so full of meaning that it makes me grateful for the rest of the day. If you don't examine every word you say, every proposal you hear or that is made to you, you will never be convinced. Technology, with all due respect to researchers, is not capable of filling [life]. I am amazed by someone like Marracash, an author I like for the loyalty with which he treats experience, who says (he who started from nothing, from absolute poverty): “I would give kids a Rolex and then ask them, ‘But has it changed your life?’”
The question is whether one can verify the technique or any other alternative proposal. I am convinced that faith needs adequate reasons. Until one feels these reasons, one cannot be persuaded, even if one continues to participate in the gestures of the Church or similar activities, because this is not enough to be decisive in life. When one wakes up in the morning at 50 or 60 years of age—as someone I met recently who is doing great work told me—and asks oneself: “So what the hell am I supposed to do with this?” Why? Because the need for meaning, for something that fills life, is not satisfied by anything that fills time, that fills life with activities or devices, but does not fill the void. The problem with life is the void.
If one begins to compare everything that appears on one's horizon and asks oneself, “But what fills the void for me?”, then we will begin to see if everything is really on the same level. Can technology give you a moment of fulfillment? Can it fill the void? We are talking about a being who, the more he is in difficulty, the more he realizes that not just anything is enough to fill a moment of life. Then you understand that being able to encounter something for which you find yourself grateful just because it exists makes everything different.
Moderator: Galimberti says that we are immersed in an ocean of irrationality. How do you respond to this statement?
Julián: I respond that every word I am saying is full of rationality, if one lives it with the necessary awareness. If you are content to live with irrationality... congratulations. I challenge you to look at the experience, to read the book, to see if this irrationality fills your life. I am amazed that intelligent people like you, when faced with these things, talk about irrationality. I understand that we see news stories full of irrationality, but this is not enough to fill our lives. On the contrary, this irrationality that pervades reality is a sign that the void cannot be filled.
When one encounters something that fills one's life, one does not need to live in irrationality, one does not need violence, one does not need to suppress or erase dialogue with anyone. This fullness gives them the opportunity to enter into dialogue with everything, to appreciate the beauty they can find in others. If this is not the case...
Moderator: I understand, anxiety takes over.
Julián: Anxiety, irrationality. Because the reason we were born, as a need for meaning, is not something decorative. It is such a need that if one does not find [an answer], one obviously lives irrationally. But not everything responds to this need for meaning, for fullness, for this need to be looked at with such intensity that life leaps. When we find [this answer] by chance, as something unexpected, one immediately sees the difference; one does not need to think about it too much.
The problem with reasoning, so often, is that, as the theologian von Balthasar says, it no longer “nails” anyone down. Instead, it is enough for someone to have an experience of true fulfillment that leaves a mark on them. We do not have experiences that leave a mark every day. Everyone can think of a recent event that left a mark, so much so that the next day, when they woke up, they thought, “Look what happened to me yesterday.”
Moderator: At one point, Galimberti says, “Christianity is collapsing.” Do you agree with this statement?
Julián: A certain type of Christianity, yes. I have no problem saying that, because this is not Christianity. [Often] Christianity is proposed as an ethic: for that we have Kant, we don't need Christ. We have all the doctrines; now we have artificial intelligence, we have all the libraries at our fingertips. But with this, is life more life?
The real question is whether Christianity is an experience where one truly experiences the fullness of life. I recently read a sentence by Don Giussani that struck me: “Christianity, being a present reality because the Word became flesh, has as its instrument of communication the evidence of an experience.” People followed Him because of the evidence of an experience. Even today, Christianity is only possible because of the evidence of experience. All the rituals are not enough: many people participate in rituals, but what does this mean for life? Many people know the doctrines, but what does this mean when life is urgent? Many people know the list of things to do. But does this make faith in Christ something fascinating or boring? Christianity is not that. If it were, I understand that it would have no chance today. If, on the otherhand, Christianity is the possibility of finding that answer to the “hole” we have inside, to the insufficiency of everything... the real question is the one Leopardi asked us. There is a phrase of his that struck me deeply (I cannot go a day without quoting it): Leopardi says that one can have the entire universe and feel that everything is small and “tiny” for the capacity of the soul, feel that everything is insufficient. For him, this is not a sign that we are flawed, but the clearest sign of the greatness of man.
All beings, apart from men and women, have the resources to fulfill their nature: the stars function harmoniously according to the laws; dogs have a perfect instinctive system (a stimulus corresponds to a response). All are perfectly in harmony with their nature. The only one who cannot find peace is man.
Moderator: In fact, Galimberti says: “Man is condemned by his freedom.”
Julián: That's the point.
Moderator: Is it a condemnation or an opportunity?
Julián: Perfect, that's the question. If one cannot find the answer, I understand that [freedom] is perceived as a condemnation. But this greatness with which the Mystery has made us is precisely the great possibility of feeling the beauty of finding the beloved, something that no other being can marvel at.
It would have cost the Mystery that created us nothing to create another being without freedom. It would have been enough to take away a “little piece” and we would all be in harmony with our nature, everything mechanical and automatic, like the beings of the sky that function harmoniously (otherwise it would be chaos). It would have cost nothing.
I have recounted millions of times the example of a conversation with a taxi driver in Milan. I took this taxi and he was reading a book on theology. When we started talking, he began to “shoot” at God. And I, in my usual style, threw fuel on the fire, and he got more and more heated. He began to blame God for all the serious things that happen in the world, concluding that the best solution would be to take away freedom, because all this is the result of its misuse.
I asked him, “Would you like your wife to be ‘automatic’ to prevent her from being unfaithful? Would you like to be loved by her mechanically, or would you prefer her to love you freely?” He didn't hesitate for a second: “I would like her to love me freely.” And do you think God has less ‘taste’ than you? He too prefers to be loved freely. He took the risk of this freedom. Is it a “misfortune” to be loved freely, running the risk that the other person may decide otherwise? Or, to avoid this risk, is a mechanism that works according to the rules better? Everyone must decide for themselves. If you prefer the mechanism, I'll give it to you. I don't want anything to do with it.
Moderator: Galimberti quotes his teacher Karl Jaspers to say that we must be careful to make a clear distinction between the believer and the militant.
Julián: Absolutely.
Moderator: For Julián Carrón, who is the believer and who is the militant? Can the two go together?
Julián: The believer, if he is truly such, is so happy with what has happened to him that he does not need to be a militant. Only those who are not certain of the attractiveness of the beauty of what they live do so. If one is so taken by the attractiveness of something, one does not need to be militant, to insist. It is enough to live in front of others.
Let us think about the Mystery, about how it acts in history. He had before him what had happened with his attempt to help the lost men after the Tower of Babel, choosing Abraham. Many things had not gone according to plan. When he sent his Son, he could have changed his method, sending him with all the weapons and tools to change the world. Instead, he was born as we know, stripped of all his divine power. He stands before us with all his appeal, a disarmed appeal.
He did not need [to be militant]. I understand that if one does not believe in the disarmed beauty of faith, one needs to be militant. But if one believes that the beauty of faith speaks for itself, one understands that the only way to persuade others is to live peacefully and calmly. It's like your wife: when you found her, she persuaded you because you saw that, in her way of living, she had such an appeal that you couldn't help but marry her. She didn't act militantly.
What convinces each of us more? Militancy or an appeal that speaks for itself? Beauty has a power far superior to any militant attempt, which only provokes quarrels with the militants of the opposing party. Here it is simply a matter of living. But in order to live like this, you need an even more deeply rooted certainty, so that you can stand before everyone with no other power than that which shines from your life.
Moderator: When we walk through Italian and European cities, or through our mountain and hill villages, I am always amazed at how much beauty is linked to Christianity. I then find myself reflecting on the crisis of Christianity—to simplify—and I ask myself: how did all this beauty that surrounds us, from the smallest things to the great cathedrals, come about? Was it thanks to these believers who were enchanted by beauty?
Julián: Perfect. The question is why this beauty can speak today. Many are amazed by this beauty, but it has no impact on their faith. Why? That beauty is the fruit of people who were truly filled with it; it is a testimony to the existence of this beauty in real people, otherwise they would not have been ableto produce it. Let's think about the Scrovegni Chapel in Padua. Faced with such beauty, it would be difficult not to be moved.
But many people arrive there, or in front of a Caravaggio, take a photo and leave without feeling any emotion. This happens because, deep down, they cannot understand what is happening before their eyes. In order to grasp the full significance of such breathtaking beauty, something must have happened in the present, in reality, as an experience. Cathedrals or Giotto do not speak without this.
How do they speak to us, or to someone who lives the faith? In order to speak today, we do not invent the method; we can only communicate it as the Mystery has tried to communicate: with an incarnate presence. This is why St. John says that the Word became flesh. It is a living image, present in flesh that shines with its attractiveness. This is why those who met him followed him, because of the beauty that being with him meant. Even those who were apparently the most distant, such as the tax collectors with whom he ate every day, scandalizing the right-thinking people of his time. Think of Zacchaeus: he was rich, he didn't need anything. When Jesus is in his house, everyone in Jericho thinks he is a guest in the house of a sinner. But he [Zacchaeus] doesn't care and enjoys himself, while the others are there judging him.
Moderator: Speaking of beauty, involvement, and attraction: what about the rites of Christianity today?
Julián: It's the same!
Moderator: Let me give you a small example. One day I said to my young son, “It's time to go to Mass.” He started to grumble. I asked him, “Why don't you want to come?” And he said, “Because—I don't want to be blasphemous—I think Mass was invented to bore children.”
Julián: Perfect. If the beginning of Christianity is just rituals, it's boring. But if children are introduced to the faith as an experience in which they perceive the novelty it brings, it's different. I remember a girl who, while sitting on the sofa with her cell phone, listened to her mother talking to friends who had been invited to lunch. At one point she said to her mother: “When I go to certain [religious] events, they don't mean anything to me, and I wonder, ‘What does this have to do with God?’ But when I see you talking, God has to do with everything.”
The problem is whether the person—children in this case, your children—when they go to Mass, when they are with us, when they live with others who have faith, perceive something that has to do with life. Then the gesture speaks, thanks to the experience they have. Even in the Old Testament, on Passover night, the first thing was to tell the children why that night was celebrated: to commemorate the exodus from Egypt. That spoke to life; you could see the relevance of the ritual to the needs of life. If this is not the case...
Moderator: If this is not the case—and I think you agree with Galimberti on this—one still tries to go beyond the visible, beyond reality, relying on something else.
Julián: [Yes, one relies on something else], which changes the way in which the Mystery entered history. But this [relying on something else] has nothing to do with the way in which the Mystery revealed itself: in the flesh. They could see how he looked at people, and it amazed them. Or how he answered questions, or how he [silenced] the Pharisees who set unimaginable traps for him; he had an unparalleled intelligence to beat them. They saw a person, and the more they were with him, the more they were fascinated by the way he lived reality.
If this is not the case, why should anyone believe? It would be self-conviction. I understand that people may say that faith arises from the fear of death. But I ask, “Did you get married because of the fear of death?” No, you got married because you found something worth not losing. You don't do it because of death, or misfortune, or because you are sick, or because someone cleans your house. No one would do it for that. One is able to bet everything on a person because of the beauty of what one has encountered.
If [faith] is only rituals, doctrine, and things to do, we are talking about another kind of faith, because the fundamental point of the Christian faith is that God became flesh, therefore, a present experience. If we only talk about that, it is as if, when talking about love, we only refer to cleaning the house, making the bed, and doing the shopping. Who would marry for that? No one in their right mind.
Sometimes we reduce Christianity so much that I understand why young people run away: they still have a taste for the real thing. But when they see people for whom faith is part of their whole life, then they stop looking at their cell phones and listen. Like the young girl [I was talking about], she listens because she is interested in the subject and the way it is talked about. She has heard many speeches that did not appeal to her, but when she finds something full of meaning, beauty, and reasonableness, then she becomes interested. The problem is whether we can witness to faith in this way: as a life that springs from an experience visible to the naked eye, because one approaches work differently or faces difficulties with a difference that others cannot even imagine.
Moderator: Related to this, at one point in the book you quote Ratzinger: “God makes himself visible in a story, in men through whom his nature is manifested.” I imagine these are the “consistent” men you were referring to. But do you see men of this type around, in Milan or in Italy?
Julián: Absolutely, yes, I see them. To be able to spot them, you have to be attentive: when you see them, there is such a striking difference that you cannot miss them. When you see something beautiful, you are not confused; you recognize it because you see it before your eyes. We have the ability to recognize what is true and beautiful because we have a “detector” inside us. Why else would we be surprised by so much beauty around Italy? Because beauty has a capacity to communicate itself that needs nothing else.
Why do people come from all over the world to see it? Because not all nations have this wealth of lived history. They go to other places for the beach or the scenery, but when they want to see beauty born of history, they come to places where history has produced people who, as Ratzinger says, are living witnesses to what has happened. Or they listen to certain music, such as Bach or Mozart. They have a capacity to charm, to captivate people, that not all other [music] has.
Moderator: There is talk of a crisis in the West, a crisis in Europe. Perhaps because it has forgotten this connection with beauty that has permeated it for centuries?
Julián: [The crisis exists] because we are losing this interest. We see it in ourselves, in our neighbors, in our fellow citizens, in society, on television. What do we see? The lack of something that attracts us. When, on the other hand, something attracts us, as has happened at certain times or with certain people in the past... salvation comes in this way, by finding these people. They are presences that speak to the naked eye.
We saw this [for example] when, seeing so many people frightened and afraid [in the face of a challenge], we met a ‘consistent’ person. A person who knew how to face that challenge with certainty. They were not deluded and understoodthe magnitude of the challenge, but they knew how to stand there with self-awareness, a certainty on which they based their lives, which made all the difference. The same thing happens today: when life is urgent, we see in the reaction of one person or another who truly accompanies us, who understands what we need. And then we meet them. But you don't meet them because you go looking for them: they surprise you by living.
Moderator: Is your view of the present and the future one of optimism?
Julián: It is a view of optimism, not because I do not see all the degradation that is happening; on the contrary, I see it with even greater awareness, precisely because of what has happened to me. But the future depends on the freedom of each person to adhere, or not adhere, to the beautiful things that happen in their life. The future is open. It is not a mechanical feeling of optimism or pessimism; this does not explain the game we are playing. The game we have been playing since the beginning of history is based on freedom, not on sentimental reactions.
It will depend on this: when we find ourselves faced with something that was truly what we were waiting for, we are so grateful that, in order to not lose it, we embrace it. My hope is only this: that there will always be people or situations in which we can intercept this beauty. The reason for hope does not depend on numbers, but on the fact that there are people who testify before everyone that it is possible, in whatever situation we find ourselves, to live differently.
Moderator: The book also talks about the recovery of the self, of self-awareness, which is not an awareness that leads to selfish choices, but, on the contrary, to enhancing one's personality, one's riches, and one's gifts.
Julián: It seems to me that this is crucial today, precisely because of what Galimberti says about the threat of technology. We are concerned about artificial intelligence and cell phones. The more these threats appear, the more urgent the person becomes. Technology can cage you if you are not aware of yourself; artificial intelligence can confuse you if you cannot distinguish “the donkey from the cow.” The more we are challenged by these new technological events, the more necessary the person becomes.
I challenge my students on this. For example, we ask ChatGPT if there is a criterion for evaluating things. ChatGPT replies no, that it depends on philosophy, culture... So we test this. I say to them: imagine you are worried about your mother who is not well. One doctor gives her an uncertain diagnosis; another gives a different one; a third gives yet another. As ChatGPT says, there is no criterion for evaluation. But then what is the point of your evaluation if no diagnosis can identify the nature of the illness? They all replied: ‘Anxiety grows’. Do you understand? It's true. If we don't challenge them, if we don't increase their self-awareness to judge and evaluate, they will depend more and more on technology. How will they be able to distinguish fake news if their humanity does not grow? This is not selfishness, it is not thinking of oneself. It is being in the real world with that self-awareness that allows us not to be taken for a ride. Quite the opposite.
Moderator: So this time, which rightly or wrongly could be considered in only a negative way, may actually be an opportunity.
Julián: Indeed, it is the opportunity. It is not enough to have everything at your disposal, like having entire libraries. You need to be smart enough to know what to ask ChatGPT. This requires a greater, more developed humanity, because you need to ask the right questions to bring out its richness. You need the human, the self, capable of not being afraid, instead of letting fear get into your blood.
You of this generation have a great challenge. You have to ask yourselves the question: “Is this true or not?” You have to check. Is the news you see true or fake news? How can you tell the difference? At some point in history, it was possible to live differently, because everything was more homogeneous and it wasn't necessary for everyone to know everything. Not now. Now, either you know how to tell “the donkey from the cow,” or they make fun of you as soon as you open your cell phone. Either we get moving and see how we can help young people develop their humanity, their ability to understand things by distinguishing between them, or they will be increasingly at the mercy of everything and of risks. Instead of helping them develop, we are making them even more afraid. I hope we can meet this challenge and make an adequate contribution, commensurate with the problem. Best wishes to all the parents, teachers, and adults listening to us, because without this it will be a disaster. Thank you.
Moderator: We could stay here talking all evening. In the meantime, thank you for your presence, which is always very engaging and challenging. And, as far as I am concerned, thank you also for this outlook that is not so much optimistic as confident—or, if you like, faithful—towards the future and the present.
Julián: Thank you all, have a good evening.
The author has not revised the notes and its translation.
Souce: YouTube Video - See above Italian Link to Video.