The experience
of the Church as a people
June 14, 1999. Ernesto crosses the threshold of Saint Francis House. The Franciscan nuns, who had managed the place for the longest time, are not there anymore. For years, they had welcomed children and adults, but lately it had become difficult for them to run the place, and they decided to consult Father Giussani–with whom they had never lost touch–so that their institution could go on existing. Following Father Giussani’s wish, the House is acquired by the Movement, and the hospitality is taken care of by some people in Memores Domini. Ernesto recounts, “I remember that, while I was walking down the stairs of the entrance hall, I had in my mind only what Father Giussani said when he had called me to propose the management of St. Francis House. He had said, ‘We acquired this house, where I would like the welcoming to go on. I thought about it mostly for the Memores Domini members. This place can help to re-establish a relationship with Jesus, especially for those who–because of their age or their health–are having difficulties in loving Him. And you have to be in charge of simple acts of charity. Many are the ones who talk about charity, but we need someone to really take care of it.’ At the beginning, I didn’t clearly grasp what that would entail. It was through later encounters that I understood what he had in mind for Varigotti.” The house is then tidied up and prepared to immediately start welcoming people. At first, it is open just to Memores Domini members, then to their parents, then to everybody because, as Father Giussani said, “there are some friends, people, that sometimes are even more than your own parents. We have to offer them the possibility to be welcomed too.” In the meantime, the refurbishing starts. Father Giussani follows the whole process–he wants to be kept informed of everything that happens at Saint Francis House. Ernesto continues, “It was during one of our conversations that I realized what the value of that place was for him. It had been there that, in 1946-47, he had started to perceive the experience of the Church as a people. At that moment, I began to understand our task, and it became even clearer when, one day, almost unexpectedly, he came to visit us. As soon as he entered, he told us, ‘The Christian Event has spread throughout Europe starting from places like this, and now they don’t exist anymore. Your responsibility is to give a new beginning to this kind of experience. This place is connected with our whole history, and you have to perpetuate its sanctity. It is a vocation within your vocation.’” Paolo, a bank director who joined the house a few months after Ernesto, explains, “None of us had any experience managing a hotel. But what would direct our actions was that idea of hospitality, of beauty, of charity that Father Giussani had pointed out.”

Hospitality and charity
Ernesto intervenes, “Hospitality is something you have to build, something that makes you move, that questions you. It is a vocation within the vocation. This means that you are wounded by the need of the people you welcome; your heart is moved and set in motion.” How does this happen? “An example: Lately, we have been hosting a person who is in a lot of physical pain. The common reaction would be to think, ‘Poor guy!’ The difference lies in thinking that the way I live has something do to with the possibility to really help this person. Asking, ‘What do you want from me?’ implies the availability of my heart in embracing that need. This way, even the heaviest situation becomes a possibility to enrich my vocation, within my relationship with Christ. All barriers are thus destroyed, even prejudice.” Paolo continues, “Like that nun from Sudan. One day, we found a lady in our chapel. She was wearing regular clothes, and started to sings songs (not our songs), without asking. Our first reaction was: “What does this woman want?” But the moment we set our prejudice aside, our real question was, “Who is this woman?” We got to know her, and we discovered that she was indeed a nun, who had lived in Sudan for many years. We met her later on, at the Memores Domini retreat.” This is the openness of heart St. Paul talks about: “Do not ignore hospitality; some who practiced it welcomed angels without knowing it.” Anna, who runs Saint Francis House along with Ernesto, explains, “We never had a meeting to come up with a strategy regarding hospitality. Our position is only to stay in front of reality according to all of its facets, waiting for something that will surprise us. And something that throws you off balance always happens. Like the letters and e-mail messages that we get, in which people thank us, not because of our perfect organization, but because of the way we treat our guests.”

Feeling at home
Catia, who has worked as a cook at Saint Francis House for the past two years, knows something about it. “I’m from Ancona [Italy]. My parents owned a kiosk on the beach, where they prepared food. I’ve always wanted to open a restaurant where people could feel at home. About two years ago, I came to Varigotti with some of the people in my house. We talked of many things, and at a certain point someone said, half-kidding, “Catia, this is the place for you.” Ernesto asked for an explanation, and I told him about my desire. He said, “We want the same thing. Come join us.” I understood that this was the place for me, conceived of for me. On my trip back home, I tried to find a thousand reasons to say no, but none of them held up. Reality was more beautiful, more fascinating than all my thoughts. The proof of it was that I did not feel any jolt. There are days when cooking is a struggle. When that happens, I think about how much Father Giussani cared for the fact that people could feel good, feel at home. This is what welcoming means.”
Beauty
As we talk on the terrace, the spectacle of the sea filling the horizon calls to mind the famous phrase that Father Giussani’s mother told little Luigi, pointing out that last star of the morning: “How beautiful is the world! How great is God!” This was not exactly what Ernesto thought when he first arrived here. “No. For me the sea was...bothersome, because it was always the same. Then I read letter # 14 to Msgr. Majo. I thought that, if I wanted my heart to be even just a little bit like Father Giussani’s, I needed to start looking at reality as he did. So I read that letter over and over, and I realized that the sea is never the same. In order to look at beauty, I need to be educated. This is the only way that I can perceive the repercussions that reality provokes. Beauty has something to do with me, with my heart.”