A Pilgrimage to the Portiuncula, Steubenville Ohio

Dear Henry,

I just returned from a pilgrimage to the Portiuncula in Steubenville, Ohio. Let me tell you all about it.

The Portiuncula is a small church about four miles from Assisi, Italy. It was initially built around 350 by hermits from the Valley of Josaphat. 

Around 516, the chapel, named Our Lady of the Valley of Angels, passed to St Benedict of Nursia and the monks of Monte Subiaco. The church was on a small piece of land (known as the portiuncula) at the edge of their property. Because of its size and age, it wasn't used, fell into disrepair, and was largely forgotten about for many years. 

Around 800 years later, in 1206, St. Francis of Assisi was on a pilgrimage to Rome when he had a vision in San Damiano. In it, Jesus spoke to him from the crucifix and told him to "go and repair His church."

 

St. Francis took the vision seriously and sold everything, including his horse and clothing, much to the chagrin of his wealthy parents. He moved to a small hut in Assisi, where he began reconstructing this church (and many others) by hand, stone by stone. From this small hut, the Franciscan order was created. In 1211, the current abbot of the Subiaco monastery tried to gift Francis the chapel, but Francis refused, in order to keep his vow of poverty.  Instead, Francis paid a yearly rent of a basket full of fish for the chapel.  I'm not sure if this arrangement is still in place.  In that same year, 1211, St Francis received St. Clare into the Franciscan order and created the women's Franciscan order, now known as the "Poor Clares." 

The little chapel immediately became a pilgrimage site, although it could not accommodate any type of crowd. Finally, in 1566, the Papal Basilica of St. Mary of the Angels was built to enclose the small church within it.

I haven't seen that Portiuncula yet, although with God's grace, I may (please consider swinging by my shop to contribute to my pilgrimage funds).

The Portiuncula I visited was a replica built at Franciscan University in Steubenville, Ohio, in 1987.

I had the opportunity to attend this year's Hallow Summit, which Franciscan University hosted. As luck would have it, the summit began on August 2, a day of indulgence if you visit the Portiuncula or any of its replicas.

This pilgrimage was unusual for me; although I've been to several pilgrimage sites in the US, this is also the first time I've had a "spiritual" experience on one.

Steubenville is a hike from Salem, Virginia, and at 6 hours, it is at the very far end of what I can drive in a day. This year's summit was packed, with more than 800 attendees. There were lines everywhere, lines to check in, lines to dinner, lines to the Portiuncula, and so, by the time I was able to get into the small 10-person chapel, I was "too" everything (too tired, too thirsty, in too much pain, etc) and, when I had pulled open the door, I bumped someone with the door.  I immediately apologized and asked if they were ok, only to be shushed angrily by someone else. 

After briefly considering whether or not I would strangle the shusher with my rosary, I decided that I probably better go to confession, because, really, I shouldn't have allowed myself to get so far into the "toos" that I contemplated punching someone in the head at a pilgrimage site.

Of course, that evening, there was another line for confession that extended around the block, so I decided to go in the early morning.

My confessor was a very awesome little Franciscan friar who offered a little more than the standard confession and actually cleared some things up.  

As a convert, I've always tried to "do what good Catholics do," but when faced with a crowd of 800 good Catholics, I realized how overwhelmed I was by the number of people surrounding me and how difficult it was for me, physically, to accommodate the jostling and rudeness of others (I'm still amazed how many people, even good Catholics, who take their shoes off and use more than one chair in crowded conditions). This was not my scene, and I felt like I was less of a Catholic because I was so unhappy in that crowd.  

However, the Friar had a different idea and told me, "Not to 'ought' myself away from the Holy Spirit." and that if I was about to punch someone, I had, most definitely, oughted myself somewhere I shouldn't be.

The friar gave me much to think about, and I realized that, because of my experiences, this type of event will never be my thing. Moreover, the friar made me see that my desire to be away from the crowd does not make me less Catholic and that many of the church's great pilgrims traveled alone.

Finally, as I toured the Portiucula after confession (and while most of the other attendees were still sleeping), I was reminded that sainthood usually isn't a crowd activity and that maybe, for me, the path would be better walked alone.

Check out the video here: https://youtu.be/0L7zOOcK4Ts

xoxo a.d. elliott

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a.d. elliott is a wanderer, photographer, and storyteller currently living in Salem, Virginia. 

In addition to the travel writings at www.takethebackroads.com, you can also read her book reviews at www.riteoffancy.com and US military biographies at www.everydaypatriot.com

Her online photography gallery can be found at shop.takethebackroads.com

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