A white boat. Seventy meters of wood and colorful flowers floating on the Seine at the gates of Paris. Those who built it at the beginning of the century to transport coal could not imagine that in the 1930s it would become a social reception center, a home for those who, from all parts of the world, arrive in French territory without permission, without a bed. They could not imagine that a crew of thirty undocumented individuals would find on board, in addition to a bunk and a warm invitation to stay, a fragrant wooden chapel, a common room to share stories or silences, meals and songs, and four captains to rely on with confidence.
One of them is Father Joseph Larsen, the reason why three Roman tourists left the Cité for an afternoon and ventured to the district of Conflans-Sainte-Honorine, to the Je Sers, the house on the water with the blue cross on its bow.
The water here wasn’t as murky as under Notre Dame, a light breeze was blowing, making the late July heat less suffocating. We saw Joseph come up the steep stairs leading to his bunk, his thick white beard, his steady and gentle eyes. We found a man of God and of the world, happy to share the grand discoveries of the missionary and the profound thoughts of the Christian.
He spoke with us for almost two hours, about his family and his formation, about gift and poverty. “Every person has a dream, becoming a missionary was mine,” he began, and he told of his childhood, of the calling that, as a child, he first felt in front of the colors of nature, of his intense studies, first in Vienna where he was born, then in Holland. With few words and a hint of irony in his voice, he recalled the long patient wait (until he was 46), half of his life in which, while dreaming of leaving for the mission, he serenely obeyed those who still wanted him as a scholar and professor of theology.
The arrival “finally” in the Philippines meant for Joseph the beginning of a new journey, the achievement of a completeness of life and faith. First, the intellectual application, the protagonism of the brain, of rationality, of scientific control; then trusting the voice of feelings, the discovery of friendship, of love: “I thank the Lord for having been able to experience both ways, both cultures” the East and the West, the faith of the learned in European universities, the outstretched arms of the poor in Manila. When he feels thanked “for the person you are, not for what you have done” his heart is stirred, and, overwhelmed, he prepares to receive much more than he gives.
Father Larsen remained in the Philippines for 24 years, and there are many stories lived there that today, at eighty years old, after 10 spent in Paris, he still has the ability and desire to share. He shows us faces drawn on cardboard: they are the portraits with which he supported himself after deciding to leave everything and live in a hut with the poor. “I left for a 23-day pilgrimage, alone without even a penny in my pocket and many fears… I discovered I could draw and that only the poor experience the true closeness of God…”
In the Philippines, Joseph also encounters Faith and Light and the poorest of the poor, those whom some disability prevents from surviving autonomously, who must and know how to put themselves in the hands of others: it is “a complete abandonment”, this strikes and attracts Father Larsen when he still knows nothing about the movement, when he lets himself be involved unaware of the new turn it would bring to his life. Within a few years, he starts traveling all over the Far East for Faith and Light, from Taiwan to Hong Kong, and in ’94, in Warsaw, at the first international meeting he attends, he becomes the international spiritual assistant. He returns to Europe. “I’m already in my third term,” he recounts, that hint of irony back in his gaze, “the last time, however, I was confirmed for only two years… in autumn I’ll turn 80 and it’s right that it expires.”
Father Joseph Larsen – Ombre e Luci n.87, 2004
Recalling these ten years of responsibility and Parisian life, Father Larsen speaks to us above all about friendship, “care” and richness discovered every day in community. He reveals to us what “the Church never talks about”: the most important thing in Jesus’ life was friendship, strong bonds with some people, fishermen, the poor and, as Matthew recounts, publicans, at whose table he took part with great pleasure. Becoming someone’s friend means discovering their mystery. Building with him or her a great and joyful intimacy. Like dancing. The mystery can be reluctant to be discovered, hidden in those who have never uttered a word, seen the blue of the sky, shaken a hand. This adventurous search is at the base of Faith and Light, it’s at the base of the journey that different wounded angry men and women share every day aboard the Je Sers, the only possible home for Joseph, returned to the West after making his own the huts and struggles of Manila’s suburbs.
Here, on the never-still planks of the bateau, “bizarre, sometimes unbearable people begin to relive thanks to the welcome they receive, to the openness they feel from those who believe that every man or woman is worthy of being loved. We help them obtain residence permits and they stay until they find a job and decent accommodation. Slowly, they manage to push away the fear of the police, the resentment and humiliation of imposed rules, and let themselves be discovered, they rediscover the human side of their characters“.
It’s true, it’s what surprises the visitor and guest the most: the people who live on the Je Sers are a real crew. At the table, they smile or argue or tease each other, with great familiarity, despite differences in language, religion, culture, heart. And above all, they smile cordially and spontaneously at you who, curious and fascinated, are investigating their route and in the evening will return safely to solid ground. A harmonious balance that, after having met and looked at Father Larsen, appears to us natural before incredible, easy as well as solid.
Father Joseph Larsen in Rome with a friend from Faith and Light – Ombre e Luci n.87, 2004
For a few minutes, this charismatic man is also our captain, the one who can indicate a direction and dissolve some doubts. We ask him for a word that can help us rediscover the desire to call ourselves Christians and recognize our neighbor, a message for those who see in the Church a distant and cumbersome reality. His expression becomes serious: “the Church has lost today the call to love… it relies on the head, not on the heart.” Young people flee the severity of the institution and the sterile rationality of catechism, “it’s a serious problem.” He remains silent for a few seconds. Then he looks at us and hints at a new smile: “I would like, I hope that goodness and love will be found again, not so much in the Church, as in Christians.” In Holland, among Protestants, numerous groups of young people already gather in the name of welcome and love, and all over the world, new movements and new congregations are born that do not announce truth but love. The Pope hosted their representatives in Rome three years ago, recognizing their vital importance for the future of Christianity. So this is the path to set out on: “Love! Love friends, the poor, parents, love animals, love the little ones and thus be disciples of Jesus.”
Silvia Gusmano, 2004
(Interpreter: Valentina Dorato)
