Paul O’Hara has a Ph.D. in mathematics, is the chair of his department at Northeastern Illinois University, has traveled extensively, and helps with the chores at home-nothing unusual for a resident of Oak Park. What makes him out of the ordinary is that he was born in Ireland and, more importantly, shares a two-flat with five other men, gives every cent of his income to his religious community, and has made private vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. What’s more, he’s happy.

He’s not a monk, and he’s certainly not a hippy. He is part of a growing ecumenical movement, known as Focolare, which is present in 182 nations around the world, touches the lives of 5 million people and whose mission is quite simple: 1) to live in and promote unity and

2) to love their neighbors as Jesus loves them.

Focolare-meaning hearth or family fireplace-began in a bomb shelter in Turin, Italy during World War II. Chiara Lubich, 23 years old at the time, received what you might call a divine insight that she and her other six friends should try to love each other as Jesus had loved, even to the point of being willing to die for each other. To do this, Lubich would pick a Bible verse out each morning, and the group would try to live out that one verse all day long.

Their love for each other, which they sought to ground in the love of Jesus, was noticed by others in the shelter who began asking, “What’s the verse for today?” Wanting to find life in the midst of death, some joined them, and what began as seven young women trying to find meaning during a time of war grew into a worldwide movement.

Because they shared their possessions, some people labeled them communists. They read the Bible every day, so some of their fellow Catholics accused them of being Protestants. Some, however, saw them as the “early Christians of the 20th Century” and responded to their unity and love. As one bishop put it, “I think the finger of God is here.”

That’s what happened to O’Hara’s housemate, J.P. Slee, who grew up in the Netherlands. Slee remembers his family worrying about what they had gotten into as they drove to a weekend retreat, sponsored by this new group in the area called Focolare. They wondered if they would be stuck in an uncomfortable situation or, even worse, subjected to a cult for a whole weekend.

Instead, what Slee, who was 14 at the time, experienced was the beginning of a spiritual transformation. “What I liked particularly about the weekend,” he recalled, “was that in my school, my friends didn’t talk about religion. But here it was easy to talk about the faith with other youth. I could ask for help. Faith became more practical and, after awhile, stronger.” After five years of exposure to Focolare, he became “100 percent certain” that this was the life for him.

Tom Masters tells a similar story-of being suspicious of the movement initially. Having been burned by experiences with other groups and organizations, he held Focolare at a safe emotional distance for a long time. But his wife kept encouraging him to become more involved.

Masters is married and raised a family in Oak Park. In fact, most participants in Focolare never take personal vows. Focolare includes old and young, men and women, married, single and celibate. The way Masters participates in the movement is by spending at least one day a week at the house, usually on a weekend, at which time three other married men in the Chicago area join the group. Five other men in the Midwest participate once a month for the weekend.

“My wife and I see ourselves as a couple who are called to live the gospel in this fashion,” Masters explained. “Focolare is an integral part of our married life and was an important part of our family life before our children grew up and moved away.”

Both he and his wife stay vigilant about not allowing Focolare to become competition for their married relationship. “It only becomes that when I don’t live the gospel well,” Masters explained. “It is a great temptation to see these men as friends and a support group. When I let it become something only on a human level, my wife notices and calls me on it. She doesn’t resent Focolare when I live it well.”

Sylvan Praturlon, who was born in France and grew up in Italy, said Focolare’s spirituality is really quite simple and unregimented. Because all the men in the house either have a job or are studying, they have very different schedules. That makes gathering for morning, noon and even evening prayer difficult. What they do is attend Mass every day, each at a nearby parish which has a schedule convenient for them, and then gather together on the weekend for meditation.

Unity without uniformity

This flexible scheduling is by design. Chiara Lubich did not want to retreat from the world but to bring the gospel into the world. Monks and nuns who pray together as a community up to seven times a day simply cannot be in the middle of everyday life to the extent that Lubich wanted.

Jo-Ellen Karstens, who lives in a Focolare house in Hyde Park, said, “Chiara was looking for a way to sanctity for everyone. We stay in the world instead of withdrawing. We can bring Jesus to the factory, to the schools, to the street.”

“Unity Without Uniformity” is a slogan the Focolare movement might want to use if they ever attempt to brand themselves. Members don’t wear habits or uniforms. They don’t all pray together or even necessarily in the same way all the time. The point for Focolare is not to live out their faith in the same way but to live it deeply and well.

How does a community achieve unity without demanding uniformity, especially in a world where a plausible argument can be made that attaining unity in the midst of diversity is next to impossible?

Having voiced a clear disclaimer that they are nowhere near perfection, the six men said part of the power of Focolare is its attempt to see Jesus in the face of every person they encounter. The men clearly stated that, in their view, the glue that holds them together is not healthy group dynamics or personal compatibility but seeing Jesus in each other.

Diverse backgrounds

The ethnic backgrounds of the six men living on Oak Park Avenue gives credence to the strength of that spiritual glue. Francis Salinel was born in the Philippines, Slee in the Netherlands, Young-Min Kim in Korea, Praturlon in France, O’Hara in Ireland and Stephen Schubert in the U.S. Likewise, many non-Catholics are in the Focolare movement, including Anglicans, Lutherans and Reformed. The attempt to see Jesus in the face of one’s neighbor has even pushed some of the men to dialogue with people from other faith traditions in an attempt to achieve more unity there.

It also applies across the gender divide. “To love means to do good for the person, not to possess them,” Praturlon said, explaining how he relates as a celibate to women. “If there is this intention of really loving Jesus in our neighbor, particularly if it is reciprocal, there is the likelihood that Jesus will be the bond between us. Then everything becomes extremely simple.”

“We’re all called to live a chaste life,” Masters added. “To live the gospel is to see Jesus in my wife and therefore to respect her. To keep Jesus in our life elevates our marriage to the fullness of what married life should be.”

Unity, then-whether it be in a marriage, a church or a community-is the goal that the Focolare movement is working toward. Schubert, who is now acting as the head of the house in Oak Park, said, “What we try to do is see each other as brothers and sisters. It’s not an easy thing to do. That’s why we have to convert ourselves first.”

Giving witness to community

O’Hara recalls visiting some nuns in Hyde Park, and the women were having trouble getting a handle on what Focolare was about. “But what do you do?” asked one of the frustrated sisters. Religious orders typically have a particular field-like missionary work or teaching or running hospitals-which contributes to their identity, but in terms of what they do during the day, the members of Focolare are all over the map.

“We’re here to witness that community is possible,” was O’Hara’s response. “To keep Jesus in the midst and the moment-when that’s not there, our community has no sense. Unless we give witness to the phrase from the gospel that where two or three of his disciples are, Jesus is also there, if we don’t strive for that, we should just pack up and go home.”

There is a lot of laughter at the house on Oak Park Avenue and good food. Healthy and plentiful, the meals laid out on the dining room table indicate this is not a place where asceticism is practiced. Treats like wine with the meal and chocolate ice cream for dessert are a regular staple in the Focolare house in Oak Park.

Too good to be true? Francis Salinel smiled. “No, sometimes you wake up in the morning and you’re just not happy. How do you say it in English? You wake up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Every morning, Salinel prays, declaring his love for Jesus forsaken which prepares him to meet the suffering that he may encounter during the day. The idea is that if we can see Jesus in the face of those we meet, then we meet him in the face of suffering as well as that of joy.

Masters added that Chiara Lubich described the Focolare life as a coin with two sides. On one side of the coin was the unity, peace and ardor that everyone desires. On the other side is suffering. “In suffering,” he said, “we recognize the continence of Jesus on the cross.”

Either way-in joyful times and in suffering-people have the capacity to recognize Jesus in their everyday lives. “It’s not that we explain away negativity or pain,” Masters said, “or that we are masochists. I recognize Jesus and embrace him. In all the pain and prickliness, I embrace him. It’s not easy sometimes, but in the moment of embrace, the joy returns.”

Young-Min Kim, who has been studying English for only two months, said, “Suffering, misunderstanding and sadness in my life is inevitable. It’s important to share my suffering or sadness with others. To continue to love others is our way.”

Join the discussion on social media!

Tom's been writing about religion – broadly defined – for years in the Journal. Tom's experience as a retired minister and his curiosity about matters of faith will make for an always insightful exploration...