DON BOSCO’S HIDDEN FIRE: RECLAIMING DUAL CITIZENSHIP AS DIVINE MANDATE

 

St. Don Bosco, an  Italian priest of the Archdiocese of Turin, Italy, educator and a writer, who had a difficult childhood in poverty, dedicated his life to educating disadvantaged youth in Turin, founded the Salesian Religious Congregation and developed the "Preventive System," a teach­ing method based on reason, religion, and loving kindness, abhorring any corporal punishment, brought in a ‘renaissance’ and positive revolution in the Italian youth against all odds,  ‘clerical criticism’ and opposition of his time. A diocesan priest who saw and listened the signs of the time. Moved by compassion, he dedicated his life to the needy youth—those wounded by socio-economic, political and cultural evils—and sought to fight against them  to free the young people from such shackles. From this burning pastoral concern was born the Salesian Congregation, a daring step that blossomed into the vast and vibrant Family worldwide, touching millions of young lives.

A Priest for the Excluded: Vision in the Midst of Chaos

St John Bosco’s life unfolded against a Europe convulsed by the Industrial Revolution, political upheaval, and ideological warfare. Italy, fragmented into multiple states after the Congress of Vienna (1815), was gripped by the Risorgimento—the nationalist movement for unification that pitted liberal revolutionaries against the Papal States and the Church. Turin, where Bosco arrived in 1841 as a young seminarian, became a microcosm of this turmoil: factories drew rural youth to the city, swelling slums with vagabond urchins, child labourers, and petty criminals who roamed the streets in gangs known as cocche. Calvinist individualism and Jansenist moral rigour had infiltrated Catholic piety, promoting a harsh, distant God; meanwhile, Masonic and anticlerical forces sought to sever the Church from society.

Bosco’s inner intention was radical: not to retreat into clerical fortresses, but to reclaim the apostolic mission for the poor youth who embodied the era’s casualties. He saw these “scattered children of God” (Jn 11:52) not as threats but as the Church’s future. His Oratory was no mere charity outpost; it was a counter-cultural space where the Gospel confronted modernity head‑on, protecting the faith from Protestant rationalism and Jansenist despair by making it joyful, relational, and preventive.​

Mediation Between Church and State: A Diplomat of the Possible

In an age when the Risorgimento’s leaders like Cavour and Garibaldi viewed the Pope as an obstacle to national unity, Bosco positioned himself as a mediator. Pope Pius IX, exiled from Rome in 1848, relied on Bosco’s discretion to carry secret messages to King Victor Emmanuel II, navigating the minefield between ultramontane loyalty and pragmatic dialogue. Bosco’s “dual citizenship” was no abstract ideal: he formed youth to be good citizens of Italy and heaven, teaching obedience to legitimate authority while defending the Church’s spiritual sovereignty.​

Unlike clericalists who withdrew from the world, Bosco courageously engaged the state. He secured workshops, negotiated with factory owners for apprenticeships, and even influenced local officials to release imprisoned boys. His 1854 Regulations for the Oratory explicitly framed education as preparation for civic virtue alongside sanctity, rejecting both revolutionary anarchy and reactionary isolation. This balance allowed Salesians to thrive amid unification (completed 1870), expanding to 130 centres by Bosco’s death in 1888 without direct political entanglement.​

Shielding the Faith: Countering Calvinism and Jansenism

Bosco’s spirituality was a direct antidote to the heresies shadowing 19th‑century Catholicism. Calvinism’s predestination and total depravity fostered fatalism; Jansenism’s rigorism bred scrupulosity and fear. Bosco countered with an optimistic anthropology: youth are “tender‑hearted,” not perverse, and sin stems from neglect, not innate wickedness. His Preventive System—reason, religion, loving‑kindness—created environments where sin was “prevented” by joyful accompaniment, not policed by punishment.

He advocated frequent sacraments (Penance and Eucharist weekly), making grace accessible to the masses, in stark contrast to Jansenist elitism. Bosco’s “scandalizing kindness” shocked contemporaries: treating rough urchins with “shocking affection,” he mirrored God’s mercy, declaring, “There must be no hostility in our minds, no contempt in our eyes, no insult on our lips.” This was missionary reform: evangelizing the poor not as passive recipients but as active participants in Church life, reforming clericalism by being a “priest of the people” who worked alongside his boys in trades.​

The Oratory: Apostolic Revolution for the Urban Poor

Turin’s prisons haunted Bosco. Visiting in 1846, he found them packed with adolescents—vagabond scugnizzi from the slums, factory dropouts, and street gangs surviving by theft and violence. Rather than condemn, Bosco liberated: he personally intervened to free boys, promising to train them. The Valdocco Oratory (1846) became a haven for these “abandoned” youth, offering catechesis, trades (shoemaking, tailoring), and recreation under Mamma Margherita’s maternal care.​

This was apostolic renewal: Bosco reformed the Church’s mission by prioritising the excluded, echoing Christ’s outreach to tax collectors and sinners. He rejected clerical superiority, modelling himself on St Francis de Sales (“gentleness”) and St Paul (“all things to all”). By 1850, facing priest shortages, he trained lay helpers and coadjutors, democratising ministry. The Salesians (1859), with Pius IX’s blessing, institutionalised this: a congregation of second “parents” for youth, focused on education and missions, free from the grim faces of traditional discipline.​

Rejecting Clericalism: A Priest Among the Young People

In an era of clerical privilege amid anticlerical backlash, Bosco was defiantly different. He earned his living as a hospice chaplain for working girls run by Marchioness Barollo, refusing noble patronage until necessity forced diversification. In fact, his passion to the youth found in several wealthy and powerful patrons a source of support and sustenance for his work, earning monetary help, legal, administrative collaboration enabling him to provide two workshops for the boys, shoemaking and tailoring. Living austerely with his boys, he shared their labours—tailoring, printing—embodying “I have always laboured out of love.” As a poor boy who lost his father when just two years old, had to work in families, in grazing animals, in their workshops, and even in a coffee shop in Turin, to earn his living and be helped out in his studies. Simultaneously, working and studying in order to complete his initial education.

His patience with “ignorance, roughness, and infidelity” was prophetic: “We must be firm but kind, and patient with them.” Anger had “no place” in his system; instead, “loving presence” won hearts.​ Bosco’s courage stemmed from dreams and Mary’s Help of Christians devotion, guiding him through opposition from bishops like Gastaldi and financial woes. He navigated conflicts diplomatically, securing papal protection while expanding globally.​

Don Bosco, Gastaldi, and the Cost of Dual Citizenship

Don Bosco’s ideal of “dual citizenship” – forming youth as good Christians and honest citizens – was tested sharply in his long conflict with Archbishop Lorenzo Gastaldi of Turin between 1872 and 1882. A former supporter who became archbishop in 1871, Gastaldi now felt bound to scrutinise the rapidly growing Salesian work in his diocese, especially its Constitutions, priestly formation and relationship to diocesan structures. He demanded clearer limits on Don Bosco’s faculties in preaching, confessions, and vocations, insisting on stronger episcopal control just as Rome was examining the Salesian rule. Though the Constitutions were approved in 1874 with many of Gastaldi’s positions reflected, tensions escalated instead of easing: Don Bosco’s announcement of a youth retreat without prior permission, disputes over who could give the clerical habit to Salesian candidates, and chancery warnings to other bishops about priests joining the Salesians all fed a climate of mistrust. Don Bosco increasingly appealed to Rome for support and privileges, while Gastaldi defended his canonical authority and resisted what he feared was a “parallel Church” forming around Valdocco.

The final years of the conflict (1878–1882), under Leo XIII, turned around new apostolic initiatives such as the Work of Mary Help of Christians and the Salesian Cooperators, disciplinary cases involving Salesian priests, and anonymous anti-Gastaldi pamphlets circulating in Turin, which some suspected were linked to Don Bosco’s circle. Talk of Don Bosco being practically suspended and Gastaldi considering resignation shows how serious the rupture became. Papal pressure eventually produced a formal accord in 1882 – more an armistice than a deep reconciliation – and only Gastaldi’s sudden death in 1883, followed by key Roman privileges for the Salesians in 1884, brought lasting calm. This episode reveals the hidden cost of Don Bosco’s dual citizenship: in seeking freedom to form poor youth and a new missionary congregation loyal both to the Pope and to modern Italy, he inevitably collided with a conscientious archbishop equally determined to safeguard diocesan authority and canonical order.

Legacy: Dual Citizenship in a Secular Age

Don Bosco focussed on forming the will and character of youth through education, faith, and vocational training. He educated the whole person—body and soul united. He believed that love and faith in that love should pervade everything we do—work, study, play. The Salesian Preventive System, aimed to prevent sin through a supportive environment removed from the likelihood of committing sin.

Don Bosco’s unsung genius was forging “dual citizens” amid Europe’s fractures: virtuous workers for Italy, saints for heaven. His Oratory integrated faith with trades, play with prayer, forming holistic youth who evangelised by example. Today, Salesians continue this in slums  and on streets for the Youth at Risk worldwide, proving Bosco’s reform endures: a Church for the poor, mediated by kindness, immune to ideological storms.​

  

“THEY HAVE NO WINE”: CANA AS A SALESIAN CALL IN KOLKATA’S CENTENARY YEAR and BEYOND

 

Against the backdrop of the Salesian Strenna message 2026 by the Rector Major of the Salesians of Don Bosco, Fr. Attard with the theme: "Do what he tells you: Believers, free to serve", here is a new interpretation of the miracle narrative at the Wedding in Cana, Jn 2:2-11. From the Salesian perspective we provide with original biblical hermeneutics of the text and event as explained below, but applied to the Salesian mission to the young especially the most poor and needy youth, in the light of the present ongoing centenary year of the Province of Kolkata. We present  positive and concrete proposals towards witnessing to the first manifestation of the glory of the Incarnate Word. The Apostle John, writing under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, calls this event the beginning of miracles (Jn 2:11). But in the original Greek, the word is semeion meaning a sign. A sign is not an empty spectacle. It is a divine finger pointing to a greater reality. When Jesus Christ turns water into wine, He is not merely acting as a gracious guest saving a wedding from social embarrassment. He is acting as the Lord of all creation, the Redeemer, and the true Bridegroom of the Church. We shall examine this sign through the lens of God’s grace in emptiness. We will see how the Lord Jesus takes the empty vessels of the Old Covenant and fills them with the new wine of His atoning blood. We will elaborate on: the failing to understand the Salesian ‘Cana’ and the earthly ‘wedding’ with empty wine as a crisis; the source of true vine and vine-dresser; and the festive jars of ‘here and now’: a Salesian spirituality of the ever to the ‘brim’.

1. Cana re‑read from the oratory courtyard

The Gospel of John calls the wedding at Cana “the beginning of his signs.” It is not a magic show; it is a window into how God chooses to act. At Cana, Jesus does not preach a long sermon. He quietly takes what is empty, what is ordinary, and what is on the verge of shame, and fills it with unexpected joy.

Read from a Salesian perspective, especially in this centenary year of the Province of Kolkata, Cana becomes more than an ancient miracle. It becomes a mirror. It asks every Salesian community, school, parish and youth centre in our province a simple, uncomfortable question: in the lives of the young, especially the poorest, where has the wine already run out?

The Rector Major’s Strenna, “Do whatever he tells you – Believers, free to serve,” invites us to stand in the scene not as distant observers, but as those servants at the wedding who hear Mary’s whisper and Jesus’ surprising command. In Kolkata, Siliguri or Azimganj, the oratory courtyard, the tea‑stalls and the shops outside the campus, the school boardings or shelter for youth‑at‑risk are today’s Cana. The sign is still the same: God wants to begin again from our emptiness.

2. “They have no wine”: naming the crisis of our young

Mary’s sentence is painfully brief: “They have no wine.” She does not explain, moralise or blame. She simply names the lack. In our context, that line could be rewritten a hundred ways:

• “They have no stable family.”
• “They have no meaningful work.”
• “They have no safe digital space.”
• “They have no one who listens without judging.”

For many young people in our province, especially in the slums, brick kilns, tea gardens, rail platforms, and migrating families, the first party of life has already gone wrong. The wine of childhood – safety, acceptance, play, school – has often run out too soon. Others in our elite schools have full glasses of opportunity but find the taste strangely flat: anxiety, loneliness, performance pressure, addiction and social media fatigue leave them asking whether this is all there is.

John says the wedding feast was on “the third day”, a hint of resurrection. But before resurrection there is a crisis. Before any sign there is honesty. A Salesian rereading of Cana begins when we dare to say, in front of the Lord and one another: in this neighbourhood, in this school, in this hostel, our young have no wine.

That honesty is the first act of pastoral love. It is also the first movement of the Strenna’s discernment path: recognise. We cannot “do whatever he tells us” if we refuse to see what he is already pointing at.

3. Mary’s pedagogy: a listening presence, not a neutral guest

At Cana, Mary is not an anxious relative running about with a bucket. She is a calm, attentive presence. Nobody comes and formally informs her of the shortage. She notices. She “listens” with her eyes and heart. She reads the faces of the stewards, the half‑empty jars, the nervous whisper. Then she takes the lack straight to Jesus.

This is profoundly Salesian. Don Bosco’s Preventive System begins with presence: being in the courtyard, in the playground, in the workshop, at the bus stand after classes; seeing and sensing the unspoken needs of the young before they become scandals or statistics. Mary at Cana is the model of this type of pastoral intelligence.

In the centenary year, our province can look back on a hundred years of such Marian, Salesian presence – from the first boarding houses and schools to today’s Don Bosco Tech centres, youth‑at‑risk shelters, migrant desks and parishes. Yet the Strenna gently asks: have we become neutral guests at some of our “weddings”? Do we still see the new forms of emptiness – mental health struggles, toxic online culture, trafficking, silent loss of faith – or have we grown used to them?​

“Believers, free to serve” begins with the freedom to be disturbed by what we see. A Salesian Marian heart does not say, “It’s not my responsibility,” but quietly repeats, “They have no wine.”

4. The stone jars of our institutions

Now we see the vessels. John notes that there were six stone water jars “for the Jewish rites of purification.” They are large, expensive, culturally important – and at this moment, empty. Jesus does not throw them away. He asks that they be filled. Verse 6: “And there were set there six waterpots of stone, after the manner of the purifying of the Jews, containing two or three firkins apiece.” Note carefully: Waterpots of stone. Not wineskins of leather, which are flexible and living, but stone which is cold, hard, and rigid. These pots were used for "purifying." The Jews would wash their hands, their cups, and their tables, trying desperately to scrub away their defilement before a Holy God.

The jars can symbolise the Old Covenant, as your given reflection explains. They can also, in a Salesian rereading, stand for our own structures: schools, boarding houses, parishes, youth centres, degrees, syllabi, timetables, even our centenary programmes. They are not bad. They are needed. But they can become cold, rigid stone if they are no longer filled with the living water of the Gospel and the passion of the Preventive System.

One hundred years ago, the first Salesians in this region arrived with little more than a dream, a cassock and a football. Today, the Province of Kolkata is rich in institutions and achievements: thousands of students, a wide network of works across Bengal, the North‑East and beyond, and a recognised contribution to national priorities like skill development and youth rehabilitation. Yet

Cana asks a dangerous question: are our jars full or hollow?​

• Is there real accompaniment happening, or just efficient administration?
• Are our hostels places of family spirit, or simply safe lodging?
• Do our academic toppers also learn compassion and faith, or only competition?

Jesus does not despise the jars. He reclaims them. The Strenna invites our communities to let him refill every structure – old and new – with a passion for the poorest and most fragile youth around us.

5. “Fill them to the brim”: collaboration and co‑responsibility

The Mystery of Wine and Life Brethren, we must go deeper here. Why did Jesus choose wine? Why not milk? Why not honey? Because in the Scriptures, Wine speaks of Life through Blood. When you look at wine in a cup, what does it resemble? It is red. It is rich. It looks like blood.

The servants at Cana receive a very odd instruction: fill huge stone jars with water. It is heavy, repetitive work. The guests do not see it. Yet John notes that they “filled them up to the brim.” Obedience here is not passive; it is generous and creative. So, when Jesus turns the water into wine, He is signaling a change in the source of our life. This brings us to a profound insight from the wisdom of Solomon. Turn in your minds to Proverbs 31:6: “Give strong drink unto him that is ready to perish, and wine unto those that be of heavy hearts.” On the surface, this sounds like a comfort for the dying. But look at it through the lens of the Gospel. Who is the man “ready to perish”? It is you. It is me.

The miracle at Cana is the Gospel in a picture: The Law gives water which is cold and judicial cleansing. The Gospel gives Wine which is warm and invigorating life.

In the Strenna, the Rector Major insists that we are “servants, mere servants,” and that the freedom of believers is precisely the freedom to respond without half‑measures to whatever Jesus asks. In the light of the 150th anniversary of the Salesian Cooperators, this scene takes on a special colour. The “servants” today are not only SDBs and FMAs, but lay collaborators, Cooperators, past pupils, parents, youth leaders – each carrying their bucket of water into the big jars of the mission. “Filling to the brim” in our Kolkata centenary context may mean:

• A Cooperator who quietly tutors slum children after work.
• A teacher who stays back to listen to a struggling student.
• A past pupil who returns to mentor first‑generation college‑goers.
• A community that opens its campus for skills training on Sundays.

No one of these actions is spectacular. Yet together they create the conditions for the sign. Jesus turns the water into wine; we are asked only to give him our labour, our time, our creative ideas – completely, not grudgingly.

6. The hidden moment of transformation

John does not describe the instant the water becomes wine. It happens somewhere between the filling of the jars and the steward’s first sip. That silence is very consoling for educators. Most of the time, we do not see when the “water” of daily efforts in the yard, classroom, confessionals or youth groups quietly becomes “wine” in a young person’s heart:

• A boy who stops using violence because he was trusted with a responsibility.
• A girl who rediscovers prayer because a sister listened without judging.
• A street child who becomes an honest worker through patient years of accompaniment.

In its hundred years, the Kolkata Province has seen such transformations thousands of times: from railway platforms to college graduations, from shelter homes to leadership in Church and society. Cana invites us to believe that this mystery will continue, often invisibly, if we keep doing “whatever he tells you.”

The Strenna speaks of discernment in four verbs – recognise, interpret, choose, act. At Cana, the servants live all four: they recognise the lack, listen to Mary’s hint, choose to obey Jesus’ strange command, and act by carrying water and then wine. The transformation happens in God’s time, not theirs. Our task, as a centenary province, is to stay faithful to those verbs, not to demand instant results.

7. “You have kept the good wine until now”: hope for the second century

The steward’s comment to the bridegroom – “you have kept the good wine until now” – is not only about the past hours of that wedding. It is also a promise for us in this centenary year. It suggests that in God’s economy, the best is not behind us but ahead.

It is easy, in a province with a proud history, to slip into nostalgia: to think of the “golden days” of full boarding houses, abundant vocations, overflowing parishes. The Cana sign, read with the Strenna, tells us something else: if we stay close to Mary, listen to the voice of Jesus and the cries of our young, and dare to act together, the Lord is able to give a wine we have not yet tasted.

For Kolkata and her missions across Bengal, Sikkim, Nepal, Jharkhand and Bangladesh, this might mean:

• New forms of presence among migrant youth and gig‑workers.
• Bolder commitment to mental health, addictions and digital wounds.
• Deeper collaboration with other charisms and Churches in serving youth‑at‑risk.
• A humbler and poorer lifestyle that frees resources for the poorest families.

The Strenna calls these “counter‑cultural decisions,” where believers show their freedom by choosing the Gospel over comfort or prestige. In this sense, the centenary is not a closing ceremony but a threshold. The good wine of the second century will not simply be more of the same. It will be a renewed, perhaps more fragile, but more authentic richness born from listening, discernment and shared risk.​

8. “Believers, free to serve”: the Salesian vocation as Cana spirituality

Finally, Cana offers us a simple portrait of the Salesian vocation.

• We stand with Mary, close to the needs of the young, seeing what others do not see.
• We hear her quiet command: “Do whatever he tells you” – a call to personal and communal discernment.
• We accept to be servants, not masters; collaborators, not saviours.
• We bring water – the simple, daily gestures of presence, reason, religion and loving‑kindness – and let God decide when and how to make them wine.

We are heading to a wedding, Beloved! The earthly bridegroom at Cana ran out of supplies. He failed. But our Heavenly Bridegroom, the Lord Jesus, has an infinite supply. There were six waterpots. Twenty or thirty gallons each. That is over one hundred gallons of wine. An abundance that no wedding party could consume! This signifies the Superabundant Grace of God.

Are you still holding on to the empty stone waterpots of your own works? Are you trying to scrub your soul clean with the water of morality and religious duty? It is cold. It is empty. It has no life. Or are you intoxicated with the cheap wine of this world? Are you chasing money, fame, or lust, hoping it will make you glad? It will run out. And you will be left thirsty in eternity. I invite you to the True Vine.

To be “believers, free to serve” in this way is to live Cana every day in our courtyards, classrooms, hostels and streets. It is to trust that the Lord who began a good work in Kolkata in 1926 has not run out of wine in 2026.

As the province celebrates its centenary, perhaps our best prayer is simply Mary’s gaze and Mary’s sentence. To look once more at the faces of the young entrusted to us, especially the poorest and most wounded, and whisper to Jesus in the silence of our hearts: “Lord, they have no wine.”  The good Lord grant us to drink deeply of His grace, that our hearts may be made glad in God alone, until we sit down at the Marriage Supper of the Lamb (work and service; bread and heaven). Then, together, as Salesian Family, to listen for his voice and begin again to do whatever he tells us, free and joyful servants at the side of the true Bridegroom of our youth.

 

BELIEVERS, FREE TO SERVE: SALESIAN FAMILY DAY LIGHTS UP BOSCO SPIRIT AT KOLKATA

Walking Together as One Family

The Salesian Family of South Bengal converged on Nitika Don Bosco, Kolkata, on this Centenary Year of the presence of Kolkata Province, on 23 January 2026 for Salesian Family Day, drawing over 112 participants from across the South Bengal region. The date carried a uniquely Bengali resonance: the birth anniversary of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose and Saraswati Puja, a day when Bengal honours courage, learning, and youthful energy. Against this backdrop, the Family gathered to reflect on Strenna 2026, “Do whatever he tells you – Believers, free to serve,” proposed by the Rector Major, Fr Fabio Attard. The day followed a simple yet meaningful timetable that helped participants pray, reflect and plan together as one family. Registration began at 9.00 am, followed at 9.45 am by the main input session on the Strenna 2026, which set the tone for the rest of the programme. The day underlined that the Strenna is not a text for SDBs alone but a shared spiritual roadmap for every group of the Salesian Family worldwide.

From the outset, the tone was one of joy and gratitude: joy at being together after another intense year of youth ministry, and gratitude for 150 years of the Salesian Cooperators’ vocation in the Church. Participants included SDBs, FMAs, MSMHCs, SMI Sisters, Salesian Cooperators, ADMA members and lay collaborators, all united by Don Bosco’s charism and by a common desire to listen to the Lord’s voice in today’s youth realities.

Listening to Mary’s Invitation at Cana

The heart of the day was a reflective presentation on Strenna 2026, anchored in the Gospel scene of the wedding at Cana (Jn 2:1–11). Mary’s words, “Do whatever he tells you,” were presented not as a vague exhortation to obedience, but as a pedagogy of listening that calls believers to active, discerning faith. The Rector Major’s commentary on the Strenna stresses that genuine freedom is born of faith in Christ and finds expression in concrete service; believers are “free to serve” because their hearts are already rooted in the One who calls and sends them.

Using the official Strenna logo and posters, the speaker highlighted how the Cana servants become a model for today’s Salesian Family: they recognise the crisis (“they have no wine”), listen to Mary, trust Jesus’ apparently unreasonable request, and act with generous faith. Participants were invited to see themselves in those servants, especially in a Bengal context where “no wine” often means young people deprived of opportunities, direction, and hope.

A Journey of Discernment: Recognise, Interpret, Choose, Act

The day unfolded as a shared journey through four classic stages of Christian discernment that structure the Strenna: recognise, interpret, choose, act.

·      Recognise (SEE): Groups first “read” the world of the young in South Bengal. They named youth as creative, outspoken, digital natives, ambitious, socially aware, and passionate for change—yet also vulnerable to isolation, digital addiction, and value-confusion. Listening with empathy was stressed as the first act of service: an “attentive gaze on reality” that sees in the lives of young people a kind of “treasure chest” where God is already at work.

·      Interpret (LISTEN): Participants were then invited to ask what God is saying through these realities. The call emerged to cultivate spiritual intelligence—seeing youth issues like migration, unemployment, and ecological anxiety through the eyes of Christ, not through fear or nostalgia. Silence, prayer, and community listening were presented as essential to hearing the Lord’s voice amid the noise of social media and polarised politics.

·      CHOOSE: In the third movement, the focus shifted to freedom. The Strenna warns against self‑referential faith and fear-driven decisions; instead, it proposes counter-cultural choices rooted in the Gospel rather than in today’s dominant ideologies of power, possession and pleasure. Participants asked themselves what concrete decisions they must now make as individuals and as groups to be truly “believers, free to serve” and not mere functionaries.

·      ACT: Finally, the Family reflected on actions. Faith that does not translate into service, it was said, remains sterile. The Strenna pushes every group to embrace risk and apostolic daring—trusting in divine Providence and moving beyond safe, event-based ministry into sustained accompaniment of the young, especially those most at risk.

 Youth at the Centre: From Ideas to Concrete Commitments

From 11 am, the Salesian Family members broke into smaller groups to discuss the theme and, at 11.30 am, presented their insights and concrete proposals in plenary. The spiritual heart of the day was the Holy Mass at 12.15 pm, during which the fruits of the morning’s reflection were offered at the altar. Group discussions brought the Strenna down to earth in very practical ways. In response to the question, “What do we see in the young today?”, participants spoke of youth as tech-savvy, expressive, global in outlook, independent and eager for authentic role models. The second question—“What is God telling us as Salesian Family members?”—drew out a strong consensus: to be more present, more approachable, more patient; to listen before judging; to understand the digital world; and to offer guidance that respects freedom while opening paths to God.

When asked, “What have I decided to do to reach out to the young?”, individuals committed themselves to being more available, less controlling, and more willing to walk with youth in their concrete struggles—through mentoring, counselling, peer-group facilitation, and a friendly presence rather than a distant authority. At the community level, a rich list of proposals emerged: talent expos, retreats and value-based events; youth leadership camps; counselling and career guidance centres; skills training hubs; platforms for youth expression; and regular family visits to strengthen the triangle of youth–family–Salesian presence. All of this was seen as the Salesian Family “walking in synodality” with young people, sharing responsibility and decision-making with them rather than simply programming for them.

Mary’s Gaze and Don Bosco’s Dream

Throughout the day, Mary’s attitude at Cana served as a guiding icon. She is not a neutral guest; she notices the lack, listens to the unspoken pain, and quietly creates a path for the miracle by involving the servants. Participants were reminded that Salesian presence must be similarly proactive: seeing the hidden “no wine” of today’s adolescents and young adults and helping them turn the “water” of their daily efforts into the “wine” of a meaningful, faith-filled life.

The celebration closed with a renewed sense that the Salesian Family in South Bengal is called to be an “amphora” of five essential attitudes in 2026: living faith, educational passion, fraternal communion, prophetic courage, and co‑responsibility. In the light of the 150th anniversary of the Salesian Cooperators, everyone was invited to “Give thanks, rethink, relaunch” their vocation, so that Don Bosco’s dream may continue to grow in Bengal’s schools, parishes, youth centres and streets. As one participant summed up the day: “Alone we become irrelevant; together, as a Salesian Family, we are free to serve—and to make the wine of joy flow again in the lives of the young.”

The day’s SF gathering reached its climax with the Concelebrated Eucharistic Celebration thereafter, where the Strenna’s  core ideas were highlighted in the light of the Gospel of the Day in Spirit and Faith. A fraternal lunch at 1.30 pm crowned the celebration before participants began their homeward journey, enriched and encouraged to “do whatever He tells you” in their own local contexts. 

DO YOU WILL TO LIVE A WILLED LIFE ?

The will to live a willed life is, at its deepest level, the desire to let God’s will and our free will meet in a loving, creative partnership. A new year is a privileged moment to renew this partnership and to choose—not just to have a life, but to will a life that is consciously shaped by Christ, for others, and for the Kingdom. ​

 1. From vague wishes to a “willed life”

Every January, people around the world make resolutions: to get fit, to reduce stress, to be more organised or to “spend more time with family.” These are good desires, but often they remain vague wishes. In Catholic spiritual tradition, the invitation goes further: to allow the Holy Spirit to convert our freedom, so that our plans and desires become a response to God’s loving call.

Scripture reminds us that “it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure” (Phil 2:13). Our will is not erased by grace; it is healed, strengthened, and invited to cooperate. A “willed life” is therefore not stoic self‑discipline or sheer will‑power. It is the decision to bring every dimension of life—spiritual, human, emotional, intellectual, ecological—under the gentle lordship of Christ, and to keep choosing this day after day.

A new year is like a blank page. We can drift through it on autopilot, driven by habit and external pressures, or we can write it deliberately with God, allowing his Word to become the deep script of our choices. This is why many Catholic writers encourage concrete spiritual goals at the start of the year: daily prayer, frequent sacraments, acts of mercy, and intentional growth in virtue.​

2. Will, love, and the call to holiness

At first glance, “drawing up a will” or “making a life plan” may sound legalistic or self‑centred, but in the Christian vision it is an act of love. It is a way of asking: How can my time, energy, relationships, gifts and even my material resources serve God’s Kingdom more clearly—now and in the future?​

Jesus tells the rich young man: “Go, sell what you have, and give to the poor… then come, follow me” (Mk 10:21). The heart of the invitation is not loss but freedom: freedom from possessions that possess us, and freedom for a relationship that gives life. In a similar way, a willed life is a freely embraced pattern of commitments—spiritual, relational, apostolic and ecological—that expresses our deepest love for God and neighbour.

In practice, this means deliberately aligning our “small wills” (daily choices) with the “big Will” of God, who desires that “all be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth” (1 Tim 2:4). It also means recognising that our decisions have ripple effects: on our families, communities, the Church, and the wider creation. A consciously willed life becomes a channel through which God’s providence and mercy can flow to others.

3. Seeing God’s call in the concrete: one example

The life’s personal spiritual plan you outline—rooted in one’s self  identity, mystical consciousness and apostolic or human service—is a concrete illustration of what it means to will a life in Christ. It is not abstract piety but a carefully discerned response to God’s call at a particular time and place.

Here, God’s call is heard in the quiet rhythm of our home and surrounding, or the workplace: prayer, work at home, work at office, reading, studying, writing, and supportive service. It is deepened by the Church’s ecological magisterium—especially Laudato Si’—and by the Christo‑cosmic vision of Teilhard de Chardin’s “Mass of the World,” where all creation is seen as drawn into the Eucharistic offering of Christ.​

Three elements stand out in this plan:

• Mystical union and eco‑mysticism: God is encountered not only in the chapel but in the whole cosmos; creation becomes a theophany and a partner in praise. ​
• The Non-compulsive Way: faith, reason, devotion and loving gentleness shape the style of presence among others, building relationships of trust and joy. ​
• Integration of dimensions: human self‑care, community life, spiritual depth, intellectual labour, consecrated mission, emotional maturity and ecological responsibility are all woven into a single fabric.

This is what a “willed life” looks like: not a rigid schedule, but a dynamic pattern where each area supports the others, oriented toward a clear Gospel vision—here, a “universal eco‑mysticism” that sees all reality in Christ.

4. Free will and life‑planning in Christian perspective

Modern psychology confirms that people who set specific, meaningful goals and review them regularly are more likely to grow in resilience, wellbeing and purpose. Yet Christian tradition adds something crucial: discernment. The question is not only “What do I want?” but “What is God inviting me to desire?”

Saint Ignatius of Loyola teaches that the human person is created “to praise, reverence and serve God our Lord, and by this means to save his soul,” and that other things are to be used insofar as they help toward this end. The will is free, but it becomes truly free when it chooses according to this fundamental orientation.

A good spiritual life plan therefore:

1. Begins with God’s initiative – recognising how God has already been at work in our history, gifts, wounds and desires.
2. Names the “actual situation” honestly – strengths and weaknesses, opportunities and limits.
3. Sets concrete lines of action – small, realistic steps that can be evaluated and adjusted.
4. Integrates the whole person – body and soul, emotions and intellect, personal and communal, human and ecological.
5. Includes regular examen and review – to see where the Spirit is confirming, challenging or redirecting.

From a theological angle, this honours both divine providence and human freedom: God respects our agency, and we in turn trust his wisdom more than our own impulses.

5. Lines of action: willing a willed life in 2026

Drawing from tried plan and wider ecclesial insights, here are concrete lines of action for anyone wanting to “will a willed life” this year—adaptable to different vocations.

1) Personal spiritual plan of life

• Set a daily rhythm of prayer: a fixed time for morning offering, Scripture meditation (lectio divina), and an evening examen in which you review the day with Christ.
• Choose one key Eucharistic or biblical text—for instance, 2 Cor 5:17 (new creation) or the Canticle of Creation—and let it accompany you as a leitmotif through the year.
• Plan regular silent adoration or nature‑based contemplation, allowing God to re‑shape your inner gaze toward a more contemplative, eco‑sensitive mysticism.

2) Human and emotional wellbeing

• Protect basic self‑care: regular sleep, wholesome food, moderate exercise; these are not selfish luxuries but stewardship of the temple of the Holy Spirit (1 Cor 6:19).
• Use tools like a gratitude and reflection journal to notice patterns of stress, joy, consolation and desolation, and to bring them into spiritual direction.
• Practise emotional honesty in community: name your limits, ask for help, and cultivate humour and forgiveness.

3) Family/Community and relationships

• Intentionally show up: for common communiry/family prayer, meals, recreation and meetings, not only physically but with listening and availability.
• Create spaces for shared reading and reflection on Laudato Si’, Christian spirituality, or other texts that connect faith and ecology; this builds a common horizon.
• Seek reconciliation promptly when conflicts arise, practising non‑judgemental dialogue and patient listening.

4) Intellectual and apostolic mission

• Draw up a realistic work schedule that honours both creativity and rest; overproduction without integration can fragment the heart.
• Engage continuously with Church documents, teachings, world situations, synodal reflections and contemporary theology, especially where they intersect with your work mission.
• Mentor at least a few persons—children, students, friends, collaborators—in combining faith, thought and action, helping them develop their own life plans.

5) Ecological conversion and eco‑mysticism

• Let creation become a sacrament of encounter: treat each walk, tree, river or sunrise as an opportunity to praise and intercede for the world. ​
• Integrate practical ecology into daily habits: reduce waste, conserve energy, support local green initiatives, and bring these themes into catechesis and liturgy.
• Cultivate universal brotherhood by building bridges with people of other faiths and cultures around shared concern for the Earth and the poor.

6) Ongoing evaluation and review

• Schedule a quarterly review of your plan: What has borne fruit? What feels forced? Where is the Spirit inviting adjustment?
• Use yearly retreats or major feasts (Easter, Pentecost, Francis of Assisi) as moments to renew and perhaps rewrite parts of your plan.
• Above all, measure “success” not by productivity but by growth in faith, hope, love, joy and compassion.

In all this, the aim is not to control life but to offer it: like bread and wine on the altar, like creation in Teilhard’s cosmic Mass, like Don Bosco’s “Da mihi animas, cetera tolle.”

 

6. Questions for personal reflection

To deepen the move from “will to live” to “willed life,” you might pray with questions like these at the start of the year or during a retreat:

1. When I look back over the past year, where do I recognise moments when I truly lived—when I felt aligned with God’s will, fully present, and generous?
2. Where do I notice patterns of fragmentation—overwork, escapism, anger, compulsive use of media, or neglect of relationships? What do these reveal about my unspoken fears or false securities?
3. How clearly have I named God’s call in my current context—family, community, ministry, creation? If I had to summarise it in two sentences, what would I say?
4. Which dimension of my life plan (human, spiritual, community, intellectual, apostolic, ecological, emotional) is most integrated at present? Which one is most neglected?
5. What one concrete step can I take this month to bring my free will into deeper harmony with God’s will—something small but specific, that I can review at the end of the month?
6. If someone were to read my calendar, budget and daily routine, what would they conclude are my real priorities? How close is that image to the Gospel priorities of Jesus?
7. In the light of Laudato Si’ and the cry of the Earth and the poor, how is God inviting me to widen my circle of concern beyond my immediate comfort zone?​

Conclusion: “Today, with you, Lord”

To will a willed life is ultimately to say each morning: “Today, Lord, I choose to live with you, in you, and for you.” It is to entrust our plans to the One who makes all things new, while taking responsibility for each concrete choice.

As 2026 unfolds, the invitation is simple and demanding: write your life’s plan with a strong will, but write it together with the Holy Spirit; be determined to love those you love most and those you naturally avoid; care for your own heart so that it may become a home for God and a shelter for others; let your relationship with creation become a school of praise and solidarity.

Your gift of a daily, willed life—no matter how hidden—helps secure the future of God’s plan in building the Kingdom. It is an ongoing “yes” that allows Christ to live his own willed life in you, for the blessing of many, long after this year has passed.​