With his profound knowledge of Asia, where he lived for almost 30 years, learning to speak several languages, Silvio Daneo who died recently, has given a unique contribution to the inter-religious dialogue of the Focolare Movement and beyond. His later years were dedicated to helping the lonely and those on the margins of society. He is buried in the cemetery at Loppiano, Italy. “It’s not easy to capture in a few lines a life as intense and full of adventure as Silvio’s. In one of his recent books, he reflected that he had lived seven lives! all “in a continual discovery of the divine treasure in each person in every encounter”. With these words, Focolare President Maria Voce recalled Silvio Daneo. He spent his life spreading the spirituality of unity in many different countries in North America and Asia: USA, Philippines, China, Hong Kong, Macao, Taiwan, India, Thailand, Pakistan and later Singapore, Malaysia, Indonesia and Vietnam. He embarked on the first of these journeys in 1962, at just 21 years of age. His destination, the United States, where together with two other focolarini, he launched the Movement’s first men’s centre in North America. Four years later he flew to another continent, this time to the Philippines, with Guido Mirto (also known in Focolare circles as “Cengia”). Over the course of many years in Asia, Silvio contributed to the beginnings of Focolare communities in many countries. He demonstrated unconditional love for people, he had an open mind and heart, and was totally dedicated to the wellbeing of each person he met. He would help everyone he could in a spirit of true generosity, which led people to experience and recognise divine love through his practical way of serving in the things of daily life. He was less for giving talks and more for giving practical assistance. For example, a young member of the Focolare Movement was once going to a Buddhist temple to be ordained. Silvio accompanied him, sleeping on the ground for days on end, eating whatever was offered to him by the monks, in sweltering tropical heat, under constant attack from mosquitoes. This act marked the beginnings of the movement’s inter-religious dialogue in Thailand. Silvio’s contribution was fundamental in introducing the Focolare to the country’s Buddhist monks. In 1995, he organized the first meeting between Phra Mahathongrattanathavorn and Focolare foundress Chiara Lubich, keeping in touch with developments for as long as his health permitted. Silvio knew Muslims, Hindus, Parsi, Gurus, and he knew how to identify with the good in the heart of each person he met. Silvio did a lot for me too. To him I owe the openness I find within myself towards the other great religions, and the experience of not noticing the barriers when with someone whose beliefs are different from my own. Silvio wrote in one of his books, “Again and again I must acknowledge how in every Asian country I’ve lived in – wherever I’ve tried to assimilate the culture and traditions of the place – I’ve found myself enriched by the knowledge of the various religious traditions. I’ve had many real opportunities to get to know people in the practice of very differing faiths, and from the witness of their lives, of their prayer, meditation, their coherence, dedication to others, and honesty in their daily action, I’ve gained a fascination to get to know the content of the doctrines taught by the different religions”. In Vietnam, back in 1990, I worked with Silvio on opening up a trading enterprise, which proved surprisingly successful. I also remember one particular day when we were in Bangkok, Thailand. We could not believe our eyes as we saw him down on his knees in the street outside our house. He was treating the bleeding knees of the workers who were building the road, disinfecting their wounds and applying bandages. Nothing like this had ever been seen before, and those labourers were touched to the heart. A few days later, these same workers set themselves to build a ramp linking our house to the new road, and they refused any payment! Silvio spent time with bishops, priests, Imams, Rabbis and monks, often greeting them in their own language, to their obvious delight. “Should it ever cross anyone’s mind to praise me – Silvio wrote in the introduction to his last book – they would, however unknowingly, be committing an error. I am convinced, at least I hope I am, that I’ve been nothing other than an instrument, and all too often a less than docile one at that! … All the merit and acknowledgement is due to Him, to God, the only One capable of achieving such great things”. Silvio spent his later years in Rome, and even though his health was compromised, his commitment to live life wholeheartedly never was. He dedicated his time to prisoners, to those experiencing loneliness and different forms of abandonment, collecting food and other useful goods on their behalf. About a year ago I met him when I was accompanying a group of Thai Buddhist monks to Rome. With that unmistakable smile of his, Silvio greeted us all, and his luminous countenance conveyed a sense of how he had been purified by his illness. This encounter left me with the conviction that life signifies this: to reach the end well, conserving what really counts, knowing ever more powerfully how to transform every suffering that comes our way into Love.

Luigi Butori