Filippo Ciantia
“ one of the holiest men we have ” FATHER TIBONI
Filippo Ciantia
“ one of the holiest men we have ” FATHER TIBONI
Filippo Ciantia
“one of the holiest men we have”
Preface
by Christophe Pierre
In the Itaca editions
Hermanas de la Caridad de la Asunción
La vida por la obra de Otro
Silvia Fasana
Eight hours of eternity
Giacomo’s story
Marta Bellavista
I want it all
Science is an act of love
Giancarlo Rastelli, a cardiac surgeon with a passion for mankind
Tat’jana Kasatkina
Christ lives in you
Dostoyevsky. The Image of the World and of Man: Icons and Paintings
Roberto Filippetti
The Great Event according to Giotto
Scrovegni Chapel. Padua
André Frossard
The Gospel According to Ravenna
Filippo Ciantia
Father Tiboni “one of the holiest men we have” www.itacaedizioni.it/father-tiboni
Original title: Padre Tiboni «uno tra i più santi uomini che abbiamo»
Translation: Neil Bartholomew
First Edition (English): July 2024
© 2020 Itaca srl, Castel Bolognese
All rights reserved
ISBN 978-88-526-0784-4
Printed in Italia by Modulgrafica Forlivese, Forlì (FC)
Follow us on
I met Father Tiboni during my eight years in Uganda as Apostolic Nuncio.
There I met a priest animated by a fine missionary enthusiasm, simple, attentive, and fraternal, visibly centred on the person of Christ and surrounded by numerous friends whom he accompanied with immense paternity and deep affection.
I am grateful to Filippo Ciantia, who was one of Tiboni’s “friends,” as we retrace his steps as a missionary, five years after his death, a journey that the disciple of Comboni undertook so effectively and to which his encounter with Giussani enabled him to give a solid and highly appealing form.
I was struck by the remark he made shortly after the first meetings, which he expressed in these terms: “From a missionary point of view, Enrico and the others did not stand out particularly: they were dwarfs compared to the Comboni missionaries. However, I saw something in them that I had not found elsewhere. They placed Jesus at the centre of everything and the communion they lived among themselves was of extraordinary importance to me. Everything intrigued me.”
The author reveals to us how, amidst the vicissitudes of a life of extraordinary activity, his figure gradually allowed itself to be shaped to become one of the most significant expressions of both Comboni’s and Giussani’s styles. The fruits of his testimony as a pastor and educator are the numerous individuals that Ciantia portrays, illustrating how Tiboni was able to lead them to an encounter with Christ that transformed their lives. There are, in my opinion, two statements that sum up his message, and they are the secret and the driving force behind his existence: “Jesus
Christ must be the centre of your life, but not a Jesus Christ dreamed up, imagined, or intellectually conceived, but the Jesus Christ that is lived in the Christian community”; “Jesus Christ is a personal and community experience; without him, our missionary life has no meaning.”
I invite readers to let themselves be “intrigued” and seduced by the extraordinarily original journey of a religious figure who presents us with a path of holiness firmly rooted in his humanity, which makes him close to each one of us.
Christophe Pierre Apostolic Nuncio to the United States of America
“I want to be with you”
The sky was bluer than she had ever seen it before. Every day was so clear and fine that it struck her as being extraordinarily new. It took her breath away and filled her with wonder, both in the pure morning air and in the calm of the evening. She loved the flowers and the bougainvillea to the left of the house and the ones lower down the garden. They were so brightly coloured, with their pink, mauve, white, and purple colours, that they seemed to invade the veranda and come right inside the few small rooms that constituted their house. She felt at one with those plants that, like her, love the heat and, above all, the sun.
Since her arrival in Uganda, she had found herself immersed in the beauty of the colours and scents. She was particularly taken with the flowers of the frangipane trees because of the variety of colours and sizes they sported and for the heady perfume that filled the morning and evening air. That was how it had got its name “min ature”, the mother of flowers, but also for the care and the delightful way with which she used them to make the unassuming house more attractive and welcoming.
Then, after the intense awe that she genuinely experienced for a moment, she was overtaken by a feeling of homesickness for Varese, the town she had grown up in. The dances, the walks under the arcades of Corso Matteotti, her carefree adolescence, the elegant, colourful clothes. Her heart was obscured by a thin veil of sadness, immediately chased away by her recollection of her meeting with Enrico. That young man, so fascinating and sure of himself, with his penetrating gaze and straightforward but profound words, had won her over. At the tender age of seventeen he had transported her to another life, or better, another path;
for her life with Enrico was to lead her into a new world, very different from the one she had imagined for herself, accustomed, as she was, to the fun-loving groups of friends that made up her middle-class existence in Varese.
“I realise that we can contemplate a life together, for the rest of our lives, but I should tell you that my heart is set on becoming a medical missionary abroad. We can go ahead with our relationship if you are prepared to explore this path and share this adventure with me.”
Giovanna said “Yes” without thinking twice and without any idea of the implications for her future, but it was an undoubtedly heartfelt “Yes” that she never forgot or regretted. And it was the beginning of a journey, a full and wonderful life.
Until the wedding and her departure for Uganda, her life had been full of ideals and free from problems, even considering the extremely demanding situations arising from the turbulent Sixties.
But all this was now a thing of the past for her. Now she was in Kitgum, a small town in the north of the country. Enrico was at work, at St Joseph’s Hospital, along with Antonio, while Peppe had gone to teach at the school not too far away on the way to Palabek. Luisa and Liliana had gone to the market, and she was by herself. But no one could deprive her of her strength of character.
The birth of Luca had been a source of immense joy, but she had been unwell and had been taken to the well-known Mulago Hospital, a gift from the Crown to mark independence, to undergo a delicate operation.
Three families in three rooms, with a further room that served both as kitchen and dining-room. That was all that the Mission could provide for the two new doctors and the teacher who had come with them. It was hard-going, but they had not forgotten their initial “Yes”.
Then this new missionary arrived: a strange type of person, who turned up regularly in the morning for a cup of coffee, after which he would settle down on the “baraja”, the veranda, to study the local language, Acholi, or to read his books and maga-
zines. Lunchtime came and naturally he was invited to join them for a meal.
At the beginning nobody paid much attention but when his presence became a regular occurrence, it began to cause a certain irritation. He asked a lot of questions about their life, about how they had come to take the decision as married couples to undertake the experience of being missionaries abroad. In the light of what had happened earlier on and the sometimes serious failure, during their year in Gulu, to understand their position and their motives, they even thought the new Father might be there to check up on them.
All told, the women in particular were fed up, and Giovanna more so than Luisa and Liliana: the Comboni Missionary Father would turn up, all smiles, and more often than not he stayed for lunch and even dinner, but when he even brought his washing for them to do, that was the last straw.
Enrico agreed he would clarify the situation, by trying to get across that discretion was a virtue even in missionary territory, and that there was a limit to everything. By now it was sunset and Enrico had found the Comboni missionary reading a review that some friends had sent them from Italy a few weeks earlier. It was the opportunity he had been waiting for to tackle and solve the problem once and for all.
With his customary calmness and precision, Enrico listed in an elegant but firm way all the problems that arose from living together, doing his best to tread delicately, as if he were performing a challenging operation, referring to complaints, difficulties and objective limits, with the savoir faire that had characterised him when he was still living in Varese.
Gradually all the others had moved closer and as the sun dropped below the horizon they were by now all there together.
This was the moment he had been waiting for. Father Pietro, who had listened carefully, without interrupting, with his profound, transparent gaze fixed on Enrico, broke the silence. Composed but unerring, he said: “But haven’t you grasped the fact that I want to spend my time amongst you? ”
As a great silence descended on the room, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment, Santina, the “lapidi”, the splendid and trusted babysitter, entered with little Luca on her shoulders, gurgling delightedly.
Father Pietro Tiboni’s clear eyes were also smiling.
The English translation was made possible by Neil Bartholomew’s generous and talented contribution. All my gratitude goes to him because, thanks to his commitment, the life of Father Pietro Tiboni is now becoming available, above all in Uganda, but also in all the countries in which he carried out his missionary work. Vick Ssali, George William Pariyo and Andrea Breen were also kind enough to revise the text and did so with great passion and involvement.
This book is the result of many contributions, the collaborative work of numerous individuals to whom I am grateful and indebted. The book is filled with people who have been lucky enough to enjoy Fr. Pietro’s companionship and friendship. Every time you read a name, know that my “thank you” goes to that person.
First and foremost, a vast archive—managed by the Fraternity of Uganda, which grew up around Enrico Guffanti and which is still a reference point for many people, including young families and individuals wishing to experience missionary life—has brought this book “alive”, along with many testimonies and the thirty years of my personal and familial friendship with Tibo, as everyone called and remembers him. A very considerable number of letters “tell” the path he took, some written by Tiboni himself, but especially by the people who lived with Fr. Pietro in Uganda. There are also records from the years before his encounter with the families of Communion and Liberation in Kitgum and a collection of articles from newspapers and magazines such as “Nigrizia,” “30Days” and “Mondo e Missione.”
Enrico Castelli’s book, La difficile speranza (The Difficult
Hope), described the formative period of the CL movement in Uganda, with references to the early stages but focusing mainly on the early 1980s.
In Alberto Savorana’s biography of Father Giussani, there are chapters that record the fundamental stages of the Ugandan experience. Giussani, on more than one occasion, spoke about Tiboni in public, and I used texts taken from some of his books.
I consulted the detailed and well-organised archives of “Tracce-Litterae communionis,” the CL monthly magazine, which related much of the Ugandan experience, which even now, especially thanks to Rose Busingye, is given ample space and makes it possible to perceive and savour the richness of his service and testimony.
The Rimini Meeting website preserves Tiboni’s speeches, which are a very important element in tracing his story.
I had access to the Comboni archives and the library in the curial house in Rome, thanks to the generous collaboration of many of Tiboni’s confreres and friends. I found original documents prepared by Tiboni, plus his letters, mostly unknown. Furthermore, I was able to read the collection of the “Bulletin of the Sons of the Sacred Heart of Jesus,” which proved extremely useful especially for the years in Sudan and the period when Tiboni was the Assistant General. Interviews with some Comboni missionaries, such as Fr. Bruno Gilli, currently in Togo, Fidel Gonzalez and Cosimo de Iaco, Daniele Giusti, and David Glenday in Rome, Carlo Torri and Claudia Piffer in Gulu, were fundamental for some chapters.
The fascinating life of Fr Tiboni, in order to be followed and appreciated, required the inclusion of a map, skilfully drawn by the young artist Sofia Crosta.
Apart from that, I must highlight two truly surprising “stories” in Tiboni’s life.
First of all, the group of “soldiers” he took under his wing during the “Roman period” from 1976 to 1979. I received numerous accounts through meetings, phone calls, and written communications. Then, the community of Benedictine monks
at the Cascinazza, who, upon learning of my decision to write the book, after two years of almost complete isolation (due to pandemic-related restrictions), wanted to meet me. I found myself facing the entire community, and many of the monks contributed with accounts of their encounters with Tiboni and their recollections of him. In addition, they shared with me the recordings and transcriptions of all the meetings held in the monastery for over ten years—a truly special friendship. By hearing Tibo’s voice again in the recordings of the meetings at the Cascinazza, I was able once more to savour his irony, simplicity, sympathy, and above all, the humble certainty of one whose sole faith is in the Lord. All the meetings are faithfully and meticulously transcribed, as you would expect from Benedictine monks.
The transcription of dialogues with Tiboni made by Giorgio Salandini (with some contributions from Robi Ronza) proved incredibly valuable, especially for the first two chapters. Giorgio was himself planning to write about Tiboni, but a serious illness prevented him from doing so; his wife, Pupa, gave me his notes, which were of fundamental importance. I also had a chance to meet Fr. Pietro’s family in Tiarno di Sopra, where I discovered some very important aspects regarding his vocation, his Comboni missionary sister, and two other Comboni missionaries from the village.
Last of all, I conducted a very considerable number of interviews with a huge variety of people, all very precious, but too numerous to list. These are people “of every tribe, race and nation” who, through Tiboni, encountered Comboni’s passion and Father Giussani’s movement. They also include people who were children at the time, but who still have vivid memories of him today.
Finally, it is worth mentioning the access to thousands of messages, texts, and emails that Tiboni sent every day for many years to hundreds of friends, accompanied by photographs of people, nature, and places. It would be interesting to compile an anthology or even a kind of diary of the year with his thoughts. I particularly wish to thank Giuseppe Bottelli, one of Tibo’s “sol-
diers”, for all the news and first-hand accounts and especially for faithfully collecting Tiboni’s messages over the years. I am also grateful to him for the photos and especially for the one that I used for the cover. Indeed, there is an extensive photographic repertoire, which in very small measure contributes to the book: many people made them available, helping me to capture a lot of details that would otherwise have been lost.
To conclude, for me, it has been an exercise of service to a great missionary and a faithful friend, who cared for and loved me, my wife Luciana, and each of my children. Working on the documents and meeting people, it has become even clearer to me how Christ is always alive in a face, in a person. “Christ, the man Jesus, in his contemporariness, in his here and now, is, for us, the charisma, the historical locus through which Christ says: Come and see.”87
87 Stefano Alberto in Luigi Giussani, To Give One’s Life for the Work of Another, edited by Julián Carrón, McGill-Queen’s University Press, Montreal 2022, p. 32.
Anyone wishing to send their testimony on Father Pietro Tiboni and any other material useful for preserving his memory can write to: filippo.ciantia@gmail.com.
XVII.
Redemption seeking your form to enter man’s anxiety.
From Trentino with a faith as rock-hard as his mountains, Pietro Tiboni felt called from childhood to give his life for Christ and to be a missionary in Africa, where he spent most of his life, especially in Sudan and Uganda.
I met Father Tiboni during my eight years in Uganda as Apostolic Nuncio. There I met a priest animated by a fine missionary enthusiasm, simple, attentive, and fraternal, visibly centred on the person of Christ and surrounded by numerous friends whom he accompanied with immense paternity and deep affection.
Christophe Pierre
Filippo Ciantia lived for thirty years in Uganda with his wife and eight children, working first as a medical doctor for NGOs such as Cuamm and Avsi, then as CEO of Dr. Ambrosoli Memorial Hospital. He has written La montagna del vento. Lettere dall’Uganda ( The Wind Mountain. Letters from Uganda), Il divino nascosto. Storie di eroico quotidiano ( The Hidden Divine. Stories of heroic everyday life) and Elio Croce fratello missionario comboniano (Elio Croce Comboni Missionary Brother).