3 - Fighting poverty in the name of God

Evangelical Elio Madonia helps the destitute and homeless with his tireless faith

In his speech at a recent meeting of industrialists, Cesare Romiti, chair of RCS and former number one of FIAT, said to Cardinal Martini, Archbishop of Milan: "If there were some entrepreneurs who did their job respecting market rules as well as principles of ethics, and who succeeded in making profits for their company, don't you think, Your Eminence, that they should be sainted?"
Reading what Elio Madonia wrote in his book Divine Passion: to Help Others, and hearing what he did, makes one think that the doors of Heaven are already open to him. He not only respected market rules and ethical principles, but he also destined his time and his savings to help those who suffer.

How does it affect you to think you've already booked a place in heaven?
"Look, I'm already blessed"
Blessed?
"Yes, I am. Not in the sense of a 'vice-saint,' though, but because I'm completely happy. And I am, because I gave others what I received from the Lord."
The chat with Elio Madonia, a Sicilian from Corleone who's lived in Canada for almost 50 years, is a balancing act between a daily practiced faith and a subtle irony. But obtaining a meeting with him wasn't easy, because he dislikes talking about himself; he only accepted on one condition: that we talked mostly about how he mitigated the sufferings of others, "not for vainglory," he said, "but for triggering emulation, since the more we'll be doing good, the less our neighbour will suffer. Doing some good isn't difficult, it's the easiest thing."
Elio Madonia didn't leave Italy because he was unemployed, but for the problems that the Evangelical faith, which he embraced when he was young, created for him in his family and in his town. More than one person invited him to "go back on the straight and narrow path"; there even was a family council with the participation of some influential people and the parish priest, all trying to "recover the lost lamb." Elio's mother had even been told that his adhesion to the Evangelical faith would imply his automatic excommunication, with unavoidable repercussions not only on his family but also on the small shop whence they earned their livelihood.
"I suffered for my mother," Elio Madonia says today, "but I felt that the Lord had called me and I couldn't deny it. His call gave me a great peace of mind and inner strength. And the Lord, some years later, did justice for everything that had been said about me."
How?
"It happened that a young priest, recently arrived in Corleone, went to meet my mother because he had known and begun to esteem a brother of mine, a physician, and so he wanted to know the rest of the family. During their chat, my mother, almost shameful, said she had another son, an Evangelical who lived in Canada. 'You're a lucky mother,' the young priest told her, 'because the Evangelicals are those who know and practice the teachings of the Scripture more than anybody else. They are believers, with no hesitation nor doubt.' My mother was struck by these words, and when some years later I sent her a picture where I was portrayed beside Pope Paul VI she immediately exposed it in her shop, and proudly told the people coming in: 'Some excommunication! My son was even received by the Pope.' Also in this I saw the hand of the Lord."
Arriving in Canada with only his clothes, Elio Madonia took many humble and even dangerous jobs (e.g. cleaning big fuel tanks: "One couldn't stay inside for more than 10 minutes without running the risk of asphyxiating"). He was often underpaid because he had no work permit. and he couldn't defend himself because legally he was a visitor, and he was working unlawfully.
In spite of this, he never lost heart, and never ceased, after work, to associate with Toronto's Evangelical community where he not only preached but also helped whomever was in need.
"I had no job of my own, and yet I looked for jobs for somebody else. And since I had learned English, I helped people with bureaucratic paperwork. You'd be amazed to learn how many barbers passed their licensing exam using me as an interpreter."
He didn't quit his missionary activity even after succeeding, first as a salesperson and then as a manager, in a big insurance company. He kept doing the same when, starting from scratch (because it was a completely new job for him), with two partners he created the Mio-Brio company, which soon became one of Canada's largest bottled soft drink companies. "Italian style soft drinks, and we were the first," says Madonia with pride. In his companies he employed hundreds of Italians and Evangelicals: "I didn't discriminate: I was looking for professionalism, and it was easier to find it among my fellow countrymen and my brothers."
Entrepreneur by day, preacher by night, Elio Madonia imported to Canada from Italy the process for sterilizing milk. He was the one who introduced the 20-gram cream jars that are still used for adding to coffee.
"Yes, all this is important," Elio Madonia says, "but to me it's more important what I did, thanks to the help of the Lord, for the victims of the Belice earthquake, for instance. I still remember Dan Iannuzzi's phone call, in the early morning of January 8, 1968: 'Elio, there's been a strong earthquake in Sicily, we must do something.' Thus, while the Corriere Canadese opened a fundraising operation, the Italian community mobilized. A committee was created, and I became its executive director. In a flash we collected money and prefabricated houses and sent them to Belice. It was a moment of great generosity, which gave me joy, in spite of the sorrow of the occasion."
Then came his action in the FACI (Federation of Italian Canadian Associations and Clubs, which later became the National Congress of Italian Canadians), where he became a member of the steering committee, exerting himself for the construction of Villa Colombo. These things, and many more, are told in his book Divine Passion: To Help Others (also published in Italian under the title Gli altri nella mia vita), avoiding any personalization, "because," he repeats, "I'm neither a philanthropist nor an exhibitionist, but only someone who gave what he received. The Lord really gave me a lot."
Thus we come to 1988, when he sold all his activities, resigned from the chair and sold the shares of Nelson Dairy leaving for a holiday in Santo Domingo with his wife Lena.
"I was strolling," he remembers, "along the streets of a small town called Sosua, near Porto Plata, when I was struck by the extreme poverty of the houses of a district. Those weren't even houses, they were little more than shelters, roughly built, with no water, no lighting, with earthen floors. It was squalid. I heard the Lord telling me: 'What will you do for these people?' It was a lightning bolt. I answered: 'My Lord, I'll give them a house.'"
How did you do it?
"I looked for an Evangelical church and asked for the minister. I met him and talked to him, telling him of my anguish in seeing those huts. Together we went and visited the families living there, and we chose 20 of the extremely poor. Have you any idea of the meaning of total poverty? It's something that grabs your stomach and leaves you speechless, and that was how I felt in front of those families. So, I came back to Toronto, took my savings and used them to build the first 20 houses. They were nothing special: just 60 square metres, but they had brick walls, tiled roofs, concrete floors, water, electricity and bathrooms without holes in the floor. I called those houses 'Maranatà Village'. Maranatà is a Hebrew word that is found in the Gospels and means 'Jesus is back'."
But did those families become the owners of those houses, or were they your property?
"Oh, no! Together with the keys we gave them a deed as a gift: each family became the only owner of their house."
I suppose the rumour spread and you received other requests. Did you always use your savings to cope with them?
"My work and the Lord's help allowed me to save some money, but not enough to cope with all the requests, which, as you imagined, flowed in. So I involved other Evangelical brothers, who did not waver, and thanks to their generosity about 250 houses have been built to date. In the meantime, I started to tour the world, from Italy to Australia, to illustrate our project in all our churches, and everywhere I received enthusiastic adhesions. I just came back from Italy, where in little more than one month I drove for 5,000 kilometres, visited 27 groups, held 30 speeches. I came back with 60 million Liras, which is needed to build 20 houses. An old man in Turin gave me six million; two little sisters gave me their piggy bank with 30,000 Lira. You see? Doing good is the easiest thing. But I don't want to stop at houses."
What else do you want to do?
"We built a school and a Christian Medical Centre; now we're buying agricultural land and giving it to those who can cultivate it. After the house, we're trying to give these poor people a job."
I figure the Dominican government is lending you a hand...
"You're figuring wrong. With a governmental decree a parcel of land was assigned to me, but this remained on paper because I was unwilling to venture into bureaucratic red tape and what it would imply."
What would it imply?
"Let's just say that all the money, really all of it, must go to the poor. And you've understood me. Even the revenue of my books was destined to this mission."
When will you stop, Mr. Madonia?
"I hope as late as possible. There's so much to do there. But I have a dream..."
What dream?
"That each of the 50,000 tourists coming weekly to Santo Domingo would leave us at least 50 dollars. We'd solve all probles that way unles you think that I've found a way to build a house with a mere $3,000."
Was there any moment, in the course of this mission, when you felt discouraged?
"Discouraged, never. Sometimes, however, I feel embittered."
When does this happen?
"When I have to say no to someone in need."

(translated by Emanuele Oriano)

Publication Date: 2002-12-22
Story Location: http://tandemnews.com/viewstory.php?storyid=2179