“God makes use of me,” Don Dolindo wrote in his autobiography in 1964, “to enlighten and to comfort others, as one uses a match to light a candle.”
Today, sixty years later, people all over the world can attest to the truth of those words. More souls each day are enlightened and comforted through Don Dolindo, and his influence is showing no sign of slowing down. His writing is a gift to the world, and his words have inspired and edified his spiritual children in countless ways.
His words were the first thing that drew me to him. And so, I was taken by surprise recently to discover that, in a twist of divine irony, one of the greatest comforts I have received from this prolific and gifted spiritual writer, this master of words, is from something he did that used no words at all.
When I first read Dolindo’s writings, I was in awe of his spiritual analogies, his profound way of explaining deep truths, his incredible ability to break open the Scriptures, and his razor-sharp intellect, combined with his profound humility. Yet, while his theological insights are stunning, it is his simple, silent gestures that I have found keeping vigil with me in the darkest of times.
Don Dolindo prayed with words, but he also prayed with gestures. And whether words accompanied them or not, the gestures themselves were a powerful prayer.
“Prayer,” Caryll Houselander writes, “as the Catechism tells us, is ‘raising the heart and mind to God’—there need be no words, but only an inexpressible adherence to God, an attitude of mind and heart, a simple wordless desire to be one with Him.”
It is this simple wordless desire to be one with God that Dolindo’s gestures embodied so beautifully.
What follows are three of the simple gestures he wrote about—gestures that we, his spiritual children, can emulate, especially when we long to pray but are too exhausted for words. Like flickering candles lit by Dolindo’s heavenly match, these gestures can help us to see that “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:5)
In these wordless prayers, the tired mind can find rest.
Stretch Out Your Arms in the Form of a Cross
When he prayed, Don Dolindo would often stretch out his arms in the form of a cross.
In 1943, when Naples was being bombed in World War II, Dolindo would stand near the balcony in his home, with his arms outstretched in the form of a cross, praying for God’s protection for his spiritual children and for his beloved city.
This cruciform prayer was one he continued throughout his life.
“And so I abandoned myself to Your Will,” he wrote a decade later, in 1953, “trusting that, at the right time, I would feel Your Power. Groaning, with arms outstretched on the cross, I implored Your Mercy for my sins and those of the whole world.”
When it feels like our world is crumbling, we, too, can stretch out our arms in the form of a cross and implore His Mercy.
Close Your Eyes and Hold God’s Hands
In 1953, Dolindo wrote, “This is my constant way of thinking and talking: I keep my eyes closed and my hands in God’s hands.”
This little sentence, so humble and unassuming it could be mistaken for an ordinary sentiment, has become a beloved refrain in my own life. Whenever I’m feeling overwhelmed, I can put out my hands and imagine that I’m placing them in God’s hands. The effect is always the same: Immediate peace. God’s hands are holding mine, and He will take care of everything.
Turn to Mary as Her Little Child
In 1937, after hearing the breathtaking news that he would, after many long years of unjust suspension, be able to say Mass again, Don Dolindo was completely overwhelmed. His response?
“I quickly gave my hand to Mother Mary,” he wrote. “I must confess that I even felt a little lost. I took hold of Mother Mary’s skirt, and affectionately entreated Her, ‘O, Mama, guide me!’”
In 1965, in the midst of another stressful situation, he wrote, “I flung myself into the arms of Mary, like a fretful little child who, in his littleness and weakness, flings himself into the arms of his mother.”
The way Dolindo turned so naturally to Mary, as a small child would turn to his mother, resonates deeply in my maternal heart. I can only imagine how much it would delight Our Lady’s heart to have Her beloved child—”Mary’s poor little old man,” as Dolindo called himself—reaching for Her hand, taking hold of Her skirt, and flinging himself into Her arms.
And how much it would delight Her heart to have the rest of us do the same.
Special thanks to Maria Palma Smith for the use of her English translation of the book Amore, Dolindo, Dolore (Casa Mariana Editrice “Apostolato Stampa”, 2001). Publication of the English translation is forthcoming from Academy of the Immaculate Publishing.