“Go and rebuild my church.”
St. Francis heard these words in the ruins of a tiny chapel in Assisi around 1205. He took God literally, rebuilding the chapel at San Damiano, stone by stone. In 1982 another abandoned building was rebuilt, this time on East 151st Street in the South Bronx. It became The Little Portion, a retreat house for the poor. Many hands helped bring this building to life; many hearts and a lot of love kept its doors open for nearly 10 years.
I was part of a group that helped open The Little Portion. In 1982, I was a 24-year-old journalist, active in my parish, its prayer group and music ministry. Along with friends and strangers, I volunteered to help Father André Cirino, OFM, create a new ministry in the South Bronx, where I was born and spent my early years. We were a diverse group, of different backgrounds and ages. Without realizing it at first, we were answering God’s call to restore. We may not have done it stone by stone, but we did it with the same faith and endurance. And like Francis, not only were we rebuilding a church, we were rebuilding our spirit. With each painted wall, each scrubbed floor, we were rekindling our faith, putting our trust in God and each other.
The message to Francis, “go and rebuild my church,” meant so much more than putting together a tumbled-down building. Francis was the cornerstone of a new movement to follow Jesus by embracing the poor. This was remarkable, given the social environment in which he lived. The poor, though many, were seen as outcasts. Yet Francis embraced them with his whole heart because he recognized God in them. He gave up his middle-class family and lifestyle. He dressed in rags and went barefoot. He begged for food. And he preached the word of God to all who would listen. This was radical, even considered crazy, in 1205.
But what Francis put into motion could only have come from God. His choice to live a life of poverty was embraced by others; soon he had followers — men and women — who gave up all material goods to live a life of simplicity. Millions of others, including religious and lay people, have since followed Francis’ example. And in 1982, in a rundown building in the South Bronx, a group of intrepid volunteers unknowingly stepped upon the same path and began to walk in the footsteps of St. Francis of Assisi.
The retreat house was our way of bringing God to a part of the South Bronx that was struggling to survive. We took the first steps on a journey, without really knowing where we were headed. But trust in God propelled us.
The retreat house has been closed for many years, but the effect it had on us is still felt today. The Secular Franciscan Fraternity that rose from the debris of that building is as strong and vibrant today as it was those many
years ago. Our ministry may have changed, but our hearts have not. We are constantly reminded of how The Little Portion Secular Fraternity was born and the holiness of it. We remember the people who came together in charity and spread the message of St. Francis and St. Clare within the walls of the retreat house. The spirit in those early days was
tangible among us. It could be seen in each other’s eyes, felt in the touch, heard in the voices. It is as true today as it was in 1982.
This is our history. We came together, friends and strangers, to help renovate a building and open a retreat house. But in doing so, a community of Secular Franciscans was formed. It is my hope that this story will provide the seeds for the foundation of other Secular Franciscan fraternities. All that is needed is a dream and trust in God. Hopefully our story will encourage others to step onto this path. Our journey was awesome and life-giving. It can be for others, too. All you need to do is take the first step.
My gratitude to my fellow Secular Franciscans, too numerous to name, who encouraged me to document their history; to Paul Perkins, OFS, whose generous financial support made this edition possible; to Josef Raischl, OFS, who offered his time and talents on the original manuscript; to Jeff Campbell for agreeing to publish this story; to Joe Antonelli, Sister Ellie Shea, OSU, and Father Jim Villa, OFM, who so generously shared their memories; to Father André Cirino, OFM, for without his dream, none of this would have been possible; and especially to my husband, Gary, for his unceasing love and support.
Toni Maconi, OFS
January 2016