The Pope's Youthful "New Jesuits"

By Michael P. Harris

In the Italian seaside resort city of Rimini, 600,000 youths, sporting San Diego Chargers T shirts, designer jeans and plain work clothes, poured down Via della Fiera. Another tide of the summer fun-and-sun set heading for a beach party? Not quite. They were on their way to the ultramodern auditorium in the new fairgrounds for Mass and then perhaps to a seminar on human rights in Eastern Europe or a lecture by the Archbishop of Paris, Jean-Marie Cardinal Lustiger, on God and the mass media. And if in the midst of all this high seriousness the kids seemed exuberantly happy, they had good reason: not only was the Adriatic sun smiling on them but so was the Pope.

The youthful gathering was convened by Comunione e Liberazione (Communion and Liberation), a feisty, some say combative, Roman Catholic student movement founded 31 years ago in Italy as a Christian response to the growing allure of Marxism and other atheistic philosophies. Rimini is the site of C.L.'s annual week-long festival, called simply the Meeting, and this year's theme, information, is announced in a typically offbeat title: "Drums, Bytes, Messages."

C.L. counts as a member anyone who does volunteer work for the movement and attends its meetings. Its followers, who are sometimes referred to as the "new Jesuits," strive to recapture souls for Christianity and fight Communism throughout the world. Their zeal and energy appeal greatly to Pope John Paul II, who in his travels has preached against both Marxism and materialism. Committed to a variety of social programs, C.L. runs neighborhood cultural centers and evening courses for the unemployed. Says a university student from northern Italy: "We all want to do something useful in life. That's what makes the Meeting so special. It is a mature experience for young people."

C.L. was born in Milan in 1955 during a low period for Italian Catholicism, when the church's teachings seemed outmoded, especially on campuses. One day a priest watched in frustration while a young Communist was working up the emotions of his rapt audience. Don Luigi Giussani, then 32, asked himself why Catholics could not make their message just as enthralling. He began organizing students. Recalls Robi Ronza, 45, editor of Bell' Italia, who was in high school when he first met Giussani: "We were all struck by the simplicity of his message. He did not say, 'Let's play soccer, and then we can talk about faith,' as the other priests did. He said, 'Christ is the center of life.' " From Giussani's first handful of followers, the organization has grown to today's 150,000 recruits, and Italian student councils once dominated by radicals are now in the hands of C.L. adherents.

The founder's battle cry did not always ring well in the 1960s and '70s. Popes John XXIII and Paul VI were building bridges toward Marxists and atheists, a policy that still attracts some of Italy's bishops. Many of them -- including Milan's influential Jesuit Archbishop Carlo Maria Cardinal Martini -- are dismayed by C.L.'s independent spirit and its insistence that a true Christian can have only one political and social outlook, a fault they label "integralism." Retorts C.L. Member Ronza: "We don't want to impose our Christian ideals on anyone, but we want an equal hearing."

But the movement clearly enjoys favor where it matters most. Pope John Paul II has come to rely on lay groups -- notably the secretive, highly disciplined Opus Dei -- to promote Christian values in a society that he finds increasingly materialistic. The Pontiff, who first came across C.L. while he was a bishop in Poland, made an appearance at the 1982 Rimini Meeting to give the crowd his special blessing. He still receives delegates from the organization in special audiences.

Next year a conference in Rome will give even broader church approval to lay activity like C.L.'s. The International Synod of Bishops, which meets every three years to advise the Pope on church teaching and practice, has set the role of the laity for its 1987 agenda. When the debates end, the Pontiff, who customarily issues a document summarizing the synod's conclusions and giving his own teaching, will establish more specific guidelines for lay action in reforming society.

C.L. is advancing in politics as well as religion. Roberto Formigoni, 39, a Christian Democrat and a founder of C.L.'s political arm, the Movimento Popolare, was elected in 1984 to the European Parliament with heavy C.L. support and then voted president of the Parliament's political affairs committee. In Italy's 1985 municipal elections, C.L.-backed candidates were voted into nearly 1,000 positions, including deputy mayor of Milan.

Papal favor has positioned C.L. well for expansion. Already the group is active in more than 20 countries and steadily growing, especially in Latin America. In the U.S., there are about 150 members, mainly in large Eastern cities. New York City's John Cardinal O'Connor, an ardent preacher against American materialism, went to Rimini last year and, impressed with what he saw, promised his support. The group's strong Italian identity, however, may hamper its effectiveness elsewhere. Says a Vatican spokesman: "They must de- Italianize their terms to grow in the world."

With reporting by Erik Amfitheatrof/Rimini