Canonization of St. Thérèse

When “Sister Teresa, Carmelite Nun of Lisieux, generally known as the ‘Little Flower of Jesus,’” was canonized on May 17, 1925, our second pastor, Bishop Crane, was not personally present at the event, but still managed to have eyes at the Vatican!

Catholic News Service reported that “The canonization ceremonies—the first during the reign of the present pope (Pius XI)—were carried out with all the splendor prescribed by the ancient ritual of the Church…” Philadelphia Cardinal Dougherty – Bishop Crane’s boss — was among the cardinals and bishops in the magnificent procession. Viewers included “twenty-one members of various royal families of Europe; the sister, nephew and cousin of the sovereign pontiff, and a multitude, estimated at sixty thousand persons.” CNS reported that among those “given places of prominence were: Timothy Healy, Governor General of the Irish Free State…; John Coyle, of Philadelphia (president of the American Catholic Union and Private Chamberlain to His Holiness by Pope Pius XI), and Miss Langton, niece of Bishop Crane, Auxiliary of Philadelphia”.

The latest in technology made the ceremony accessible: when the Pope “pronounced the words whereby the new saint is formally proclaimed” it was reported that “Due to the installation of microphones and four amplifiers—the first time such installation has been made in St. Peter’s—the voice of the supreme pontiff could be heard in all parts of the vast edifice.” An ancient tradition made it memorable: “A custom, which has lain dormant since the downfall of the temporal power of the popes, in 1870,” was revived so that “the outside of the Basilica of St. Peter was brilliantly illuminated” by “Five thousand large lanterns and twenty five hundred torches…replicas of those used in former days, specially reconstructed for the purpose…At first, it was proposed to substitute electric lights for candles in the lanterns and the torches, but this suggestion was rejected because one of the most picturesque features of illumination is the blowing of the flames in the breezes, which always play about the great dome…When the hour for the illumination arrived, the first of the “sampietrini”—the personnel attached to the basilica—stationed at the top of the cross, lighted the first torch, crying out as he did so: “In nomine Patris, et Filii et Spiritus Sancti”. Almost instantaneously, 7,500 torches and lanterns, tended by his 300 assistants, burst into flame, and the outlines of the great basilica were etched in fire against the dark background of the heavens….” A report says that “Cardinal Dougherty, Bishop Schrembs, of Cleveland, Bishop Gallagher, of Detroit, and Bishop Turner, of Buffalo, viewed the spectacle from a terrace in front of the residence of Cardinal Sincero.” We don’t know where Miss Langton sat for this!

Meanwhile, back in Philadelphia, the SFDS Parish Monthly Bulletin reported Bishop Crane’s plan to dedicate a permanent shrine for St. Thérèse in a new basement “Lady Chapel” of our church on the day of her canonization. “In preparation for this a novena will be conducted on the afternoon of Sunday May 10” followed by devotions each day at 4 PM and 8 PM. “A beautiful statue of the Little Flower has been secured (located today in the former confessional on the parking lot side of the church) and this will be unveiled and blessed at 4 o’clock on the afternoon of May 17…” The Parish Monthly Bulletin published a request “to secure sufficient old gold and silver to have made up a reliquary to hold the relic of St. Therese. Those who have old articles of jewelry, watches, rings, etc., silver plate, spoons, etc., are asked to submit them with their intention that they may be incorporated into the Reliquary.” (Novenas featuring the relic were held regularly for the next few years. We do not know what became of the relic upon the death of Bishop Crane).

Miss Stella Langton returned triumphantly from Rome on 29 June, and Bishop Crane went out on the U.S. Coastguard cutter to meet her. Never in the best of health, “The bishop climbed the rope ladder from the cutter’s deck to that of the Ohio, arriving safely amid the cheers of passengers who lined the rails.” Mission accomplished!

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Lost Links

The church and school buildings of Most Blessed Sacrament Parish (56^th and Chester Ave.) were sold after the parish merged with Saint Francis de Sales in 2007, but they are still a part of the landscape — now finding a new life as Independence Charter School West, a “community-based public charter school” of the School District of Philadelphia, chartered in 2016. Other significant spots, once important to MBS parish, are long gone, though – their presence faded behind the visible layers of local history:

Today a row of houses along 55th Street replaces the lone little house that used to stand at the corner

5500 Woodland Avenue

When Reverend Patrick F. Burke was named first pastor of Most Blessed Sacrament Parish in June 1901, a 1917 history reports “his first home was the house 5500 Woodland Avenue, and in its upper room, the first Mass was offered, and the first congregation of this Parish listened to his stirring appeal.” A 1907 account by Monsignor Bernard McKenna, describes the property less romantically as “an old dilapidated house which had not been occupied for seventeen years.”  Whatever its condition, it was the first home of MBS Parish, and Father Burke continued to live there after the MBS chapel was erected at 56^th and Chester in December 1901. It was not an easy commute: a 1917 history reports “Father Burke’s health had been failing for some time and he had to suffer many privations in those days. For instance, Gray’s Lane was at times almost a trough of yellow mud and he had to walk from 55th and Woodland Ave to the Chapel. Some of the most public spirited among the parishioners, at their own expense, had a part of the lane filled in and a cinder path laid. Once in a while, a good soul would provide a carriage to convey the delicate priest to Mass…. The archdiocese gave him several Assistants to help him in his duties, and he lived at the Woodland address until 1906.

5406 Chester Ave. is now a parking lot.

5406 Chester Avenue

MBS First Pastor “Father Burke’s Silver Jubilee occurred in June 1906, and the parishioners presented him with a purse. The old residence on Woodland Ave was abandoned and a new home at 5406 Chester Ave rented. In the following Autumn, October 9, 1906, on Tuesday evening after a lingering illness the first pastor died. His remains were escorted from the rectory to the Chapel (wooden building at 56^th and Chester) by a number of the clergy.”

5548 Chester Ave. was rebuilt at some point in the distant past as a commercial establishment.

5548 Chester Avenue

The head of the IHM order promised Third Pastor Rev. James T. Higgins that she would send four sisters to open MBS school in September 1908. “Since the parish lacked a convent. It was decided that the sisters would live nearby at Saint Francis de Sales and St Clements convents. However, before they arrived the following September, the priests of the parish gave up the comforts of the rectory at 5406 Chester Ave and took up residence in the combination church and school building (new stone building by Henry Dagit finished in 1908. The MBS Rectory would not be built until 1918). This cut down a major parish expense and enabled the pastor to use the money saved to obtain a home at 5548 Chester Ave to be used as a convent.” The school would open on September 5, 1908, and “When the sisters arrived, they found the convent prepared and furnished in a simple but comfortable way.”  (Permission to build a permanent convent at MBS was granted in 1919, and the Sisters moved into it in 1921). 

1901 MBS wooden Chapel with 1908 stone Chapel behind. MBS First Pastor Reverend Patrick Burke inset

56^th and Chester Ave. Magical Moving Chapel

The Most Blessed Sacrament chapel – a small wooden frame building donated by St. Thomas Aquinas Church – was erected on the southern end of the lot at 56^th and Chester Avenue and dedicated on December 22, 1901. A 1917 parish history provides a poetic description of those early MBS days: “Memory calls up the little wooden Chapel among the trees in all the glory of its rustic setting on a Sunday morning in Spring. Over the fields, up the lane and through the main thoroughfare, came these worshippers…” The neighborhood grew quickly, and the church expanded with it. A stone chapel/school building was dedicated in 1908, and the cornerstone was laid for the church in 1922. Meanwhile, the little wooden building – repurposed as the MBS Parish Assembly Hall and school gym — clung bravely to its spot until it was needed by the newly-established Good Shepherd Parish (67^th and Chester Ave.), and moved there in 1925. Find its further adventures here: https://sfdshistory.wordpress.com/2022/05/27/a-moving-story/

Father Daniel Gatens, writing the MBS Parish 1976 Jubilee Book, observed that “the history of any parish…is the story of people and the story of buildings.” The buildings connect us to the people and the neighbourhood and give us roots. Even when they are gone, an awareness that they were once there brings  a small jolt of recognition in passing and perhaps a smile and a feeling that we are all connected.

Original MBS wooden chapel and new 1908 chapel/church shown in 1976 MBS Parish Diamond Jubilee Book

An Artist’s Troubles

Between 1907 and 1911, renowned Philadelphia stained glass artisan Nicola D’Ascenzo was busy creating the four round and six long stained-glass windows for our church, but his life direction could have been very different!

Thirteen years earlier, at age 23, before he became a stained-glass specialist, the Philadelphia Inquirer reported that “Nicola D’Ascenzo, a Philadelphia artist, accompanied by his wife who is also an artist, sailed from New York on June 12, 1894, as passengers on the North German Lloyd steamship Neckar, bound for a two years’ residence in Mr. D’Ascenzo’s native home, Italy.” Having come to this country “when only 11 years of age,” D’Ascenzo had been granted his citizenship papers in 1893. His wife was American-born. He later told the Inquirer:

“‘When we landed at Naples…my uncle told me that I was in danger of arrest by the Italian Government. I was wanted for military duty and also for desertion. Although I was only a boy and not yet subject to military duty when I left my home in the province of Chieti, the little village of Torricella Peligna, my name had been carried upon the rolls and I was liable to conscription for 18 months military duty in the Italian army. Because I had not reported myself to the proper officials, upon reaching the age of 18 years, I was liable, in addition, to two years’ service as a deserter. Confident in the ability of the United States Government to protect me, I and my wife went on with our art studies, intending to remain in Italy until next summer…When we reached Rome, I learned that I was about to be arrested, and I sought and obtained an interview with our Minister, Mr. MacVeagh. When I stated my case, he advised me to flee the country. ‘We cannot protect you,’ said he…Accordingly…my wife and I hurriedly and secretly left Rome. Neither of us breathed free until we got beyond the Italian border…”

The paper then interviewed the acting Italian consul in Philadelphia, who clarified that the day before he left, “Nicola D’Ascenzo had appeared before him and taken out a paper which called for his appearance before the sub prefect of Lanciano, Italy, inside of 25 days to straighten out his military standing with the Italian government…There must, however, either have been some mistake or else D’Ascenzo was unwilling to serve the time which it was necessary, according to the Italian law, for him to serve…Every town or district is compelled o send a certain allotment of men to the army each year. All the physically fit young men who are just 20 years old are compelled to draw numbers,” and those drawing the low numbers “are compelled to serve nearly two years in the army…” If a man doesn’t turn up for the drawing, “the mayor of the city draws a number for him. According to the Law of Italy, if a boy is born of Italian parents, citizens of Italy, no matter whether he is naturalized in another country or not, he is an Italian and holds the same position in regard to the army as any other Italians. Consequently, D’Ascenzo would be compelled to serve whatever time had fallen to him and cannot be released from citizenship in Italy until he has fulfilled the military requirements. Then, with the consent of the government, he can give up his citizenship in Italy and become a citizen of any country he chooses.”

“Mr. Slaviz said that he had many such cases occurring all the time. All these men are classed as deserters, but during the past four years, and at present, the Italian King has granted an amnesty allowing all the privilege of returning to Italy and serving their time without receiving any punishment. The present amnesty, dating from last September, is in honour of the silver anniversary of the King’s wedding. The only way to escape doing service in the army was to leave the country.” The problem was, apparently, sorted satisfactorily for D’Ascenzo, in the end, since he and wife returned to Italy for another, happier visit two years later.              

Perhaps this incident could provide a clue to what happened to our other Italian immigrant artisan, Adolfo de Nesti, who sculpted most of our statuary and the friezes on the church façade, before disappearing mysteriously in 1916, with only a brief reference to a “family tragedy” in his American wife’s family records; she would file for a divorce in 1921 to marry an American-born dentist.

Got the winter blues? Every year around this time, libraries, archives, and other cultural institutions around the world share free coloring sheets and books online based on materials in their collections, in a NY Academy of Medicine-sponsored event. We’ve participated for five years. This year’s parish history archives coloring book features advertising art from MBS and SFDS from the 1950s and 1960s and a few other items. Check out all the offerings, from a diversity of institutions, with new collections posted each day.

Saint Francis de Sales 1923 Tercentenary

SFDS HISTORY MYSTERIES: 1923 Tercentenary

1936 Vatican stamp commemorates SFDS as patron saint of Writers and Journalists

A century ago, on January 26, 1923, Pope Pius XI – who had recently succeeded Pope Benedict XV — issued an encyclical commemorating the 300^th Anniversary of the death of St. Francis de Sales and naming him patron of all writers.

The commemorative year, which ran from December 28, 1922, to December 28, 1923, was an interesting timespan. Europeans were coping with the aftermath of the Influenza Pandemic and the devastation of World War I in an atmosphere of anxiety and uncertainty. In October 1922, just two months before the Tercentenary began, Mussolini and his Fascist party marched on Rome and assumed power over all of Italy (including the Vatican, which was not yet a separate state). In November 1923, a month before the tercentenary ended, Hitler staged his unsuccessful “Beer Hall Putsch” in Munich, Germany; a brief stay in jail afterwards was spent writing Mein Kampf and planning the future campaign that would ultimately lead to World War II.

In his 1923 encyclical, Pope Pius XI reflected on “the disorders with which the world today struggles,” and proposed that the life of Francis de Sales exemplified values that needed to be restored, in line with “the spirit of Christ which once upon a time we followed.” The saint was known for having navigated the perils of the Protestant Reformation with graciousness and integrity: “Whoever attentively reviews the life of St. Francis will discover that…he was not a gloomy, austere saint but was most amiable and friendly with all…” and his “kindness of heart never varied, no matter who the persons were with whom he had to deal, the hour of the day, the trying circumstances he had to meet. Not even heretics, who often proved themselves very offensive, ever found him a bit less affable or less accessible…” His gentleness won over many people, even as he spoke out “with evangelical frankness” against “the vices of the people” and unmasked “the hypocrisy which tried to simulate virtue and piety.”

In an era inflamed by poisonous propaganda, Pope Pius XI then offered St. Francis de Sales as a counter model especially for Catholic journalists and writers, noting that “He, by his example, teaches them in no uncertain manner precisely how they should write.” His principles work well for all writers: They should learn their subjects thoroughly. “They should never compromise where the truth is involved, nor, because of fear of possibly offending an opponent, minimize or dissimulate it. They should…try to express their thoughts clearly and in beautiful language so that their readers will the more readily come to love the truth. When it is necessary to enter into controversy, they should be prepared to refute error and to overcome the wiles of the wicked, but always in a way that will demonstrate clearly that they are animated by the highest principles and moved only by Christian charity.” The Pope then emphasized that Francis de Sales’ every work reflected the “sweetness of the love which filled his heart.”  

Pope Pius XI went on to proclaim: “Since St. Francis, up to this time, has not been named the Patron of Writers in any solemn and public document of this Apostolic See, We take this happy occasion, after mature deliberation and in full knowledge, by Our Apostolic authority…to declare by this encyclical… St. Francis de Sales, Bishop of Geneva and Doctor of the Church, to be the Heavenly Patron of all Writers.” He instructed that a “triduum or novena” with sermons highlighting the saint’s teachings, be held in every parish of every diocese during the year, and his example should be studied and heeded.

Far away from the turmoil, on this side of the ocean, the saint’s model of behavior and new designation may not have seemed urgently compelling. Our pastor, recently-consecrated Bishop Crane, had a scrapbook filled with clippings from his many engagements across the region during the year – especially his triumphal visit to his hometown in Ashland, PA – but the Tercentenary of our patron St. Francis de Sales is not mentioned!

Now, a century later, Vatican News reports that, “On the 400th anniversary of the death of the Saint Francis de Sales,” Pope Francis hasissued a new Apostolic Letter “entitled ‘Totum amoris est’ (‘Everything Pertains to Love’), in which he recalls how the Doctor of the Church was able to help people seek God in charity, joy and freedom in an era of great changes.” Let’s pay better attention this time!    

Holy Housing

Our church is a local landmark, but threads of parish history are also woven into the greater fabric of the neighborhood, in past-lives of other buildings and locations. Here are some, possibly surprising, former residences of SFDS clergy and religious through time:

1422 South 49^th Street (before Woodland). When the parish was first formed in 1890, it met in a “rented hall on the southwest side of Woodland Ave. below 49th St.”  First Pastor Rev. Joseph O’Neill had been living at St. James (38^th and Chestnut) “but knowing that there is no parish without a priest, a small two-story house was rented at 1422 South 49th Street” The 1895 First Annual Report of the Parish Debt Association observed that “The burden of debt” related to purchasing the land needed for the chapel “was the reason of the economy that the new pastor was obliged to practice in selecting his first place of dwelling…”

4509 Regent. After the chapel was dedicated in 1891, the same 1895 report notes that Father O’Neill moved from 49^th Street to what appears then to have been a boarding house at 4509 Regent Street, where he lived for two and a half years until the newly-built rectory was ready on December 20, 1893.

47^th and Windsor. According to IHM records, before the IHM Sisters arrived in 1904, “Father Crane appealed to the good people of the parish to provide ‘as a gift to the Divine King’ a home for the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, who were to take charge of the school. The response far surpassed his most sanguine hopes, and a residence opposite the school was accordingly purchased. The first community arrived at Saint Francis de Sales. Convent on Thursday 25 August 1904.” (the original house stood on the corner where the convent is today)

4804 Baltimore. The 1940 Parish Jubilee Book relates that “The building used as a convent was overcrowded from the beginning and was badly in need of repairs, so in the summer of 1915, the sisters took up residence at 4804 Baltimore Ave…” for two months while their original convent house at 47th and Windsor was renovated.

47^th and Chester NE corner. According to IHM records, “The old convent was torn down and the cornerstone of the new building was laid by the Right Reverend Bishop in 1926.” While the new convent was under construction, the IHM Sisters lived at 47^th and Chester in what appears to have been a big house with a wraparound porch (an apartment building stands there today)

914 south 49^th (between Springfield and Warrington). According to the 1989 Parish First Hundred Years Jubilee Book, in 1977, the Religious of the Assumption “opened a house as a home for sisters involved in education programs and sisters attending the University of Pennsylvania. They also became involved in parish social work.” (They moved to their present location at 1001 S. 47^th St. in 1999).

928 Farragut Terrace. When he was a boy, long before he became a Bishop and our Fifth Pastor, young Joseph McShea lived in a house that stood right behind the school. He noted: “my family home stood on Farragut Terrace (number 928) and was sold to the parish in 1925 to help provide space for the enlargement of the school”

929 Farragut Terrace. When Saint Lucy Day School for the blind was dedicated by Bishop McShea in 1956, the Catholic Standard and Times reported that “A complete convent for the staff of four Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary who have been especially trained for this work is located on the third floor.” The building later served as the IHM Center for Literacy. Now it’s a private home, belonging to a parish family!

Half-Moon Holy Night

              A half-moon-shaped window above the middle doors at the back of the church is a simple architectural detail packed with meaning.

              The round medallion in the center recreates Mary and Baby Jesus from an oil painting called “Holy Night” by Antonio da Correggio around 1530 (about 37 years before our patron St. Francis de Sales was born).

In the original painting, Mother and Child were shown in a pool of light, with St. Joseph and a group of shepherds in the shadows just beyond. Light plays an important symbolic role in many Nativity depictions: the Glencairn Museum notes that  in Byzantine artistic tradition, “the cave of the Nativity represents the darkness into which Christ, the Light of the World, was born” and “according to the well-known mystical vision of St. Bridget of Sweden (1303–1373), when the Christ Child was born, the cave where the birth took place was filled with an ineffable divine light—a light that completely outshone the earthly light of Joseph’s candle…” Artists have tried to capture the effect ever since. The original Correggio painting was considered a masterpiece of the chiaroscuro technique, which uses strong contrasts of light and dark to tell its story. We get a slightly different variation with our window: Mother and Child are best seen illuminated from behind.

We don’t know who painted our Holy Night window or what shop put together the glass around 1910. Amy Valuck, President of the American Glass Guild, suggests that the round painted medallion was likely to have been made in one place, and the surrounding half-moon glass in another, and the two then pieced together. She observes that the glass in the lunette windows is mostly rolled glasswith black ladder-like borders that were stencilled on using a vitreous paint made with powdered ground glass and metal oxides, fired in a kiln to stabilize it, with silver nitrate then applied between the lines and fired again to get the yellow coloring – still crisp after a century of wear. “The narrow circular border around the painted medallion is rolled opalescent glass.” That could be a small origin clue: milky opalescent glass, made by mixing different metal oxides into the actual glass — was a technique pioneered in the late nineteenth century by several American studios – and most of the other handwork in our church is local.

The round medallion — which may have come from a company that supplied such ready-made work to other studios — was hand-painted with vitreous paint, mixed at the glass workshop. Our expert points out that “if the proportions of ground glass, oxide, and flux were not carefully measured, paint would be more likely to fail over time” and the white lines at the edges of Mary’s clothing and some flaking paint suggest that its glass was slightly under-fired – a very human touch, adding weight to the idea that the medallion and the surrounding window were by different artists, possibly from different studios, and reminding us that our magnificent church was built with the collective efforts of many individuals.

There’s one further curious note about the Correggio painting that inspired our medallion: commissioned for a church in northern Italy, it was treasured there until 1640, when the work was “carried off by night” by the Duke Francisco d’Este, for his private gallery – a common “disruptive phenomenon” in an age when devotional artwork in churches was especially meaningful to those whose homes were bare, but rich people felt entitled to hoard pretty things. Correggio’s picture was meant to be accessible. Today, on display in a museum in Dresden, Germany, with reproductions spread around the world, its inspirational light shines again for everyone.

              Back in our church, the origin story of our own little window is still a mystery (clues welcome!), but, when daylight shines through the image as the doors swing open at the end of Mass, it offers a small reminder that faith is active, and we are called to carry the light of the Christ child with us, in our hearts, as we go back out into the world.

Seasons of Darkness and Light

“The altar at St. Francis de Sales’ Church arranged for Solemn Pontifical Mass, November 12th, 1916,” 
(Catholic Historical Research Center)

A pair of evocative photos turned up recently in the Archdiocesan CHRC Archives, capturing our church in solemn and celebratory moods long ago.

The first is labeled on the reverse “The altar at St. Francis de Sales’ Church arranged for Solemn Pontifical Mass November 12^th, 1916. Presented by Father Lallou to A.C.H.S.” (American Catholic Historical Soc.) The occasion was the fifth anniversary of the dedication of the Church, and Father Lallou, of St. John the Evangelist Church, gave the sermon. Bishop Thomas J. Shahan, D.D., rector of the Catholic University, presided, assisted by Rev. James T. Higgins, pastor of MBS. The Philadelphia Inquirer noted at the time that “All the officers of the mass are alumni of the Catholic University.” Our Pastor, Rev. Michael J. Crane, and Rev. Higgins – both now memorialized on our rectory lawn – had graduated together, among its first alumni. The exuberant electric lighting (imagine climbing up to replace those burnt-out bulbs!) is a reminder of how much clean, bright electricity – the new light of knowledge — was prized in 1916.

The second photo, showing the rear of the church, is unlabeled but also very early, and captures the magnificent serenity of the church at rest.

Look around you and compare these photos with our church today   — eerily the same and different. Check out the old full altar rail, the big hanging cross-shaped sanctuary lamp, the “cake stand” electric candle stands, and the early view of the organ. The old church was both darker, with the ornate dark pews and old flooring, and brighter with its multitude of light stands and bare bulbs.

Pope Francis quotes composer Gustav Mahler: “Tradition is the guarantee of the future,” adding “It is not a museum piece. It is what gives us life, as long as it makes you grow.” Our parish treasures its past, while continuing to move ahead: trying new ideas to engage families, planning updates to facilities for modern energy awareness, and looking at feasibility of adding wheelchair cuts to our 1960s pews to make the church more accessible. The shared sacrament of the Eucharist is what anchors us, connecting our past, present, and future.

 Interior of St. Francis de Sales Church, Philadelphia, Pa., with balcony and organ. (Catholic Historical Research Center)

Saint Francis de Sales Church, modern view

1973-1974 Oil Crisis

Reverend Francis Fitzmaurice

          The 1970s were not kind to our parish. Families left for the suburbs as part of a national trend, and the controversial Venturi modernization of the sanctuary – needed for the equally controversial New Mass of Vatican II – became a source of division among those that remained.  Monsignor Mitchell was unwell. Then world events piled on one more challenge. The Philadelphia Inquirer interviewed Parish Administrator Father Fitzmaurice, (who would officially be named 8th pastor in 1976) in March 1974, during the October 1973- March 1974 Oil Embargo (Arab states ban on oil trade) – shining a cautionary light into long-reaching shadows of global politics:

          “Escalation of fuel oil prices is making life tougher for inner city pastors and congregations…At Saint Francis de Sales, 47th St and Springfield Ave. in West Philadelphia, oil prices have more than doubled in the last year and are still climbing. As a result, classrooms in this school have become cooler, hallways in the rectory have become darker, and crowds at mass sometimes shiver as they listen to the homily (not because of its content!). Although no programs have been cut back yet, the pastor and parishioners are engaged in a ‘backbreaking struggle to make ends meet,’ the pastor, the Rev. Francis J.Fitzmaurice admitted…”

          The paper reported “Some pastors turned bitter, castigating oil company executives and the government in their resentment over the shortage of oil, which they contend was a conspiracy to drive prices up. They said it was ‘theft.’ Many of them got together to form CHOPP – Clergy and Householders Opposed to Petroleum Profiteering – last month to get a  rollback of oil prices to November 1973 levels. Monsignor Frederick J Moors, pastor of Saint Cecilia’s at 535 Rhawn St, said the clergyman were angry because the ‘basic issue is a moral one.’ It is wrong for oil companies to make ‘excessive profits’ from the sale of ‘necessities like oil…Besides, it impedes the charitable work of the church.’”

          “But for clergymen like Father Fitzmaurice, the soft spoken priest in his mid 50s who became pastor at Saint Francis last September, oil prices are just another worry on a list of insolvable difficulties associated with changing neighborhoods — declining church attendance and contributions, rising crime statistics, fear, deficits. A rollback of oil prices would have been welcome, he admitted, but it wouldn’t have put the budget in the black. The deficit last year, Father Fitzmaurice said, was $65,000 and to balance the budget, $48,000 had to come out of parish savings. If the deficit continues this year, there is not enough left in the treasury to cover it. Last winter, the parish spent $14,024 for 100,834 gallons of oil to heat the church, school, rectory and convent. This winter, the church has so far spent $16,647, and it has used only 58,524 gallons of fuel. By April, it may have to come up with another $4000 for heat, the priest said. Even before the winter began, the tuition for the Parish School increased and the pastor said he had gone begging, asking friends and parishioners to give more. It is a great strain, he said.”

          “The parish, formed in 1890, was once affluent, with Catholics from 5,000 households contributing more than the church needed to balance the budget. But the makeup of the parish has slowly changed. Now there are fewer than 1,300 families left in the parish and the school built for 1,500 children, has only 619, the lowest number in 50 years, Father Fitzmaurice said.”

          The Inquirer noted “The problems, compounded by fuel costs at Saint Francis, could be told over and over throughout the city” and not just for Catholics: “For example, eleven of the 22 churches in the Center City, Lutheran parish, are supported by mission funds from the Lutheran Church in America. The LCA reduced that support by $40,000…this year…” And Catholic News Service reported interfaith CHOPP groups of churches and synagogues forming across the country, uniting in concern over crippling energy costs.

          President Nixon would resign just a few months later due to Watergate. President Ford would take on a thankless task of trying to stabilize the country – in an age that Charles Dickens might have characterized “it was the best of times, it was the worst of times…in short, the period was so far like the present period…” And our parish? Philadelphia loves an underdog. At the end of the Vietnam War, an influx of refugees galvanized a new sense of purpose and we pulled through.

Dog Tag Bakery

Father Curry and Connie Milstein

When Rick Curry (classmate of John Deady and cousin of Adrienne Chapman) graduated from SFDS Parish School in 1957, the IHM sisters cautioned him that his career choices would be limited. The popular student took this as a challenge, graduating from West Catholic HS, earning a BA from St. Joe’s, MA from Villanova, and a PhD in Educational Theatre from New York University. He became a professor of Catholic Studies and Theatre, as well as director of the Academy for Veterans at Georgetown University; advocated for actors with disabilities; and worked with the Veteran’s Administration on healthcare and rehabilitation for wounded veterans. As a Jesuit lay brother, he trained as a baker. With special Vatican dispensation, he was ordained a priest, and kept so busy that you might barely notice his single arm.

Dog Tag Bakery, a “thriving bakery and an immersive classroom,” named for military ID tags, was one of his most important projects. Father Curry, who lived with his condition from birth, wanted to inspire and empower those coping with life changes – especially those injured while serving their country. The bakery, which he co-founded with Constance Milstein in 2014, provided a unique way to use all of his talents, training, and experience to help others.

Tales of Father Curry from Dog Tag Bakery:

Dog Tag Bakery, Georgetown, DC

Father Curry on Bakery Stage

St. Joseph Story

Before the construction of the bakery building in Georgetown, DC, it was taking an awfully long time to get the building permits. Father Curry recommended the tradition of burying a statue of St. Joseph to help move things along. While other members of the team were skeptical, they figured it wouldn’t hurt. They got a small statue of St. Joseph and buried it upside down on the lot. 3 days later, the permits were approved and the team received the green light to begin building.

Fellow performing on stage for Find Your Voice

Stage in the Bakery Story

Because of his background, Father Curry strongly believed in the power of theater to heal and transform. In 1977, he founded the National Theatre Workshop of the Handicapped (NTWH) in New York City, and eventually expanded the program to a residential theatre school in Belfast, Maine, that grew to include a bakery program where Father Curry and his students baked and sold breads as part of an annual fundraiser.

When he started the program for veterans with service-connected disabilities, military spouses, and military caregivers at Dog Tag in 2014, he knew he wanted the performing arts to be part of the experience. His vision included a stage area within the bakery building, and as part of the program, a storytelling course called “Finding Your Voice.” To this day, at the end of the program, each Dog Tag Fellow performs their story on the stage (or the virtual stage, during COVID), as part of the culmination of their 5-month journey. Many fellows and alumni have pointed to this event as one of the most transformative parts of their experience.

Father Curry and Connie Milstein at Cohort 1 Graduation

Father Curry died in 2015, but his legacy lives on. Visit Dog Tag Bakery if you’re ever in Georgetown, DC, and check them out here at their website: https://www.dogtaginc.org/ His two cookbooks – on bread and soup — are also highly recommended. And if you ever watch the old TV detective show Monk, look out for the episode with the “asymmetrical” psychologist – that’s him!

Bishop at Work

Bishop Crane breaks ground for St. Joseph’s University, 1925 (Photo used with permission from St. Joseph’s University Archives)

Saint Joseph’s University recently opened a West Philadelphia extension at the old University of the Sciences campus, 43^rd and Woodland. They may be new neighbors, but an archival photo reveals our historic connection!

On October 15, 1925, at the original City Ave. campus, Catholic News Services reported that our second pastor: “The Right Rev. Michael J. Crane. Auxiliary Bishop of Philadelphia. officiated at the breaking of ground for the first building of the new St. Joseph’s College on the site where the imposing group of buildings for the Jesuit Institution will soon stand. The first building will house the College of Liberal Arts and serve as a faculty building. Bishop Crane used a shovel which was used when ground was broken for old St. Joseph’s Church here in 1733 and which has been a treasured relic among the Jesuits since that time.”

Saint Joe’s University still has the original photo, and the plaque that was affixed to the shovel, though the location of the actual shovel is not known.

News coverage of the groundbreaking was scant. A few years later, in 1927, the dedication of the building – on the 75^th Anniversary of the founding of the college in 1853 — would be a much larger event, with the famously flawed aviation hero Charles Lindbergh (first to fly solo across the Atlantic) as a special guest. He would be awarded an honorary degree of Master of Aeronautics – even though the university did not have a program in the subject! It was claimed that 10,000 people attended that event, including a number of international dignitaries. Cardinal Dougherty officiated.

How did St. Joe’s come to build on City Ave back in 1925? Their history reports “The Jesuit charism, or mission, coincided perfectly with a grand plan envisioned by a group of wealthy Catholics from Overbrook and Bala Cynwyd in 1922 to develop City Line into an uber-Catholic community — a Catholic Main Line” with two wealthy parishes (Our Lady of Lourdes in Overbrook and St. Matthias in Bala Cynwyd); and plans for St. Charles Borromeo Seminary, St. Joseph’s Jesuit college, and the Cardinal’s residence, among others. Priorities change. Now, the university observes that the new “Saint Joseph’s University City campus is located in Philadelphia’s innovation district — home to health science start-ups, established biotech firms and influential higher education institutions that work together toward solving societies’ most pressing problems.” And we are here too. With a lot of young people and families bringing new energy. Shall we also be innovators?! 😊