The global order is unraveling. Long-standing institutions are faltering. Violence is increasingly normalized. A race is underway to create machines that ultimately call our very worth into question. What can we possibly do? We feel like silent bystanders, “non-playable characters” in a game that only a few can play.

Do we still have agency? Are we still “someone” if we are powerless? What are we even doing here? Ultimately, who are we? Who am I?

Asking these uncomfortable questions is a first step toward reclaiming the stature of our humanity. However, left to our own devices, we can easily lose heart, giving in to apathy, anger, or fantasies of gaining a seat at the table of the powerful.

Questions are rekindled when we encounter someone different—not because of their own strength, but because of the living community that shapes and sustains them. Within that shared life, they become capable of facing the drama of existence, even when they are wounded by it. Amidst all the confusion, they can see with clarity. In a world addicted to immediate gratification, they remain patient, humbly building, undeterred by their own failures or those of others. They carry a mysterious hope.

“Why are we unable to bear the time it takes to construct the road, until the road is built? Why can’t we bear the time?” The answer is that one does not build unless one says, “I follow one who is alive.” I follow; I seek one who is alive. … So, I stay with him … and I try to become one with him. It is not an exaggeration. It is a definition and applies, therefore, to every relationship that is genuine, that is undertaken authentically.

—Fr. Luigi Giussani, Time and the Temple

Finding someone fully human is like the dawn of a beautiful day. Seeking their company is like the beginning of a promising journey.

Join us February 12–14, 2027, for a weekend of public discussions, exhibits, and live performances witnessing to this fullness of life.