Anghiari si racconta

I was born on 20th November 1980 in Sansepolcro. I have always lived in Anghiari, in Tavernelle. My grandparents had their roots there; the family from my father’s side comes from Sansepolcro.

I attended primary school in Anghiari and then went to the Commercial Technical Institute in Sansepolcro. After school, I found a job at Busatti, which, for us in Anghiari, is an important company – I worked there for a few years, in administration, in accounting. Then I had a job in Arezzo, with the diocese, again working in administration. During this period, and from when I left high school, I was involved in the life of the parish in Anghiari. I was living with my family in Tavernelle, working in the morning, and then volunteering in the afternoon, working with young people in a range of activities. Then, in 2008, I made the decision to enter the seminary.

No, there wasn’t a special event, there wasn’t any apparition! The choice matured with time. During that period when I was attending the parish, don Marco was the parish priest – an inspirational person… he’s now a bishop. The involvement in the parish brought me to ask myself how I could be useful to others. There are many ways in which we can be called to serve the community – my way is being a priest. Entering the seminary meant reflecting on whether this was really my life choice, it meant leaving work, family and starting a period of studies to confirm this choice. At the same time, I was attending the university of theology. On 31st October 2014 – 10 years ago – I was ordained.

I was sent to a parish in val di Chiana, Castel Fiorentino, while, at the same time, continuing my theological studies in Rome. Then, 5 years ago, when don Marco had to leave for another posting, I was assigned to Anghiari, my parish. What an important, wonderful choice, but also a very delicate situation. I found myself being a priest in the place where I grew up, where everyone had seen me growing up. So, in some ways it’s difficult – sometimes it’s an advantage that I come from here, other times, not. I was welcomed at that basic human level of being welcomed back home, but I was also welcomed as a priest, and people who didn’t know me opened to friendship, opened their hearts and took me into their confidence.

Shortly after I arrived the pandemic started and, so, there was a new way of life – a priest is usually surrounded by people but, with the pandemic, the churches were closed, there were no activities. It was a situation nobody was prepared for, not even a priest was ready to face this. I thought about the priests who had faced fascism and war – it was different but perhaps with the same concern for helping and supporting people – you must always try to respond to this big need.

The first thing we had to do was activate social channels. You can always watch the celebration of mass in different sanctuaries on tv, but, particularly for old people, it was important to see mass celebrated in your parish church with your own priest. So, although families were at home rather than in the church, we were able to maintain a relationship, and a spiritual connection. On Easter day 2020, we celebrated mass and the families, parents and children, followed us on their phones or on tv or on computers, and then they sent me photos of themselves watching mass. That was a way to communicate and stay together in a difficult time.

When summer came, we decided we had had enough of the phones and we did something that, with the heat, and in the countryside, is unusual: we blessed the homes, not only in the historical centre, but also in all the surrounding hamlets. In the summer heat we went to every house to bring a prayer, a greeting, an encouragement. For the old people it was a big change, but they welcomed us with great joy and hope. They were particularly hard-hit by this period, which left a mark of fear and closure. So, it took time to shake hands, hug each other again, and we know how important physical contact is.

We hadn’t been able to celebrate funerals in churches… only a short prayer at the cemetery. Knowing how important this is, we tracked down the names of everyone who had died during Covid and invited their families to come to church on a special day to celebrate mass for their relative. There were 50 families, and every week we had a day dedicated to a family. Some didn’t come, but it didn’t matter – for us, as a community, it was important to remember them. People appreciated it and participated.

The church is part of the city life – the history of the town and the history of the church go together. Anghiari was a small castle, then the Benedictine Camaldolese monks took over, built houses, enlarged the city walls … the city was developed, people came to work and live here, the community grew together with the Christian community. Then a few centuries later, the Augustinians arrived, they taught children to read and write – there were no schools at the time. Then, in the 16th century, the Franciscans arrived, a refreshing wind of spirituality.

2024 is a Franciscan year, the 800th anniversary of the stigmata when Francesco left La Verna and passed by Anghiari – we feel close to him. The church of La Croce commemorates the passage of Francesco. He didn’t enter the town but looked at it from afar and we say that, by doing this, he blessed it. In our community there is a special affection for San Francesco and for the monks and nuns who are connected to the Franciscan order. We can say that, after 800 years, San Francesco still talks to us with his simplicity, strength, poverty and his love for the Gospels.

Humility is decisive, without it we couldn’t even call ourselves Christians. Mankind is like a big flock on the move, and, if we broaden our vision to the generations before and after us, it’s an eternal journey in which we are taking part. With that sense that life is bigger than us, we make decisions not only for our lives but also for the future of the community.

With regard to the future, I don’t ever wish to become a bishop – a life of contradictions and difficulties, and I don’t know if I’ll remain in Anghiari – the life of us priests is wonderful, in part because it is provisional.