"How Awesome Is This Place!" (Genesis 28:17) My Years at the Oakland Cathedral, 1967-1986. E. Donald Osuna
with the children’s choir, of course — was the disarming little corps de ballet that our own dancing nun, Holy Names Sister Mary Gene Heller, had trained as a “movement choir.” As a veteran educator, she knew that children naturally expressed their feelings through body gestures. Why not their faith? As the Offertory Hymn was being sung, the brightly costumed youngsters interpreted the sacred lyrics with graceful arm and body movements.
But the piece de resistance was a slide presentation, which was projected onto a movie screen located in the cathedral sanctuary. Steve Essig, one of our instructors and a gifted photographer, created a tapestry of snapshots. In projected transparencies it depicted our delighted school kids at home, at school and at play, enjoying as only children can, the simple pleasures of their inner-city surroundings — and having the time of their lives! The visual montage amounted to a commentary on the poet’s ode “Life, I Love You,” but also on Jesus’ words: “I have come that you may have life, and have it to the full.” Never had the Gospel message been proclaimed with greater impact.
As novice liturgists we learned two important lessons from these early experiments. One was that children, when properly coached and motivated, can be extremely effective ministers of the Word. They can capture a congregation’s imagination, open up hearts, and even broaden the minds of the most skeptical. For example, the fact that a makeshift movie screen was obstructing the view of the altar no longer mattered; the images and the charm of those children had transformed the screen into a pulpit.
Secondly, we realized that the liturgy in English possessed a power to touch and move people’s souls as never before. What had been lost by the suppression of the stylized liturgy in Latin could be replaced and even enhanced by an artistic and prayerful use of traditional and contemporary art forms.
Moreover, the musical and visual arts, which were undergoing such technological advances, could surely be adapted to the requirements of the liturgical reforms. New “hardware” was available that could be tailored to the service of contemporary churchgoers and their worship. In other words, the Gospel could be as freshly addressed in church as it was on the Broadway stage. Jesus Christ, after all, is the “Superstar” of every Eucharist.
St. Francis de Sales School children’s choir
Jack Miffleton preaching at a children’s liturgy
Chapter Three: Reaching Out
It wasn’t long before Lucid announced that we were ready to adopt a third priority. “With attendance on the rise,” he explained, “the Sunday collection has doubled. We can continue,” he said, winking at Keeley, “to put more money where our mouth is.” He then suggested we concentrate on ministering to the very large population of older folk who were living in the surrounding high-rises. “We should establish a ministry to the elderly,” he proposed, “and we should hire Holy Names Sister Thomasine McMahon as coordinator. Good?”
“Agreed.”
This is how the legendary Sister “Bear” McMahon (a nickname shared with her priest-brother Tom, both of them being noted for their fierce commitment to social justice issues) arrived at St. Francis de Sales Cathedral. Sister Thomasine at once became a fixture on the streets and in the senior centers of downtown Oakland. Immediately, the feisty and no-nonsense nun organized a Thanksgiving Day meal for the down-and-out of the central city — the first of a yearly event that in time grew to include a clientele of over eight hundred homeless and hungry souls.
Her main mission, however, was to invade senior residences and convalescent homes and arrange for the elderly guests and patients to obtain the basic physical and spiritual necessities of life. To this end, she not only procured the services of lay volunteers but also persuaded reluctant government agencies to supply needed assistance — or else!
One of the most significant traditions she originated was arranging for lay people to take Holy Communion to the sick and shut-ins of the area. To do this, however, she had to get around the prohibition for anyone but a priest or nun to touch the sacred Host. We came up with an ingenious strategy to get around the matter. A solemn “commissioning ceremony” was introduced at the end of every 10:30 Mass. The volunteer “ministers” would be called forward and presented with gold containers with the consecrated Hosts. The celebrant would then officially depute them in the name of the priests and people of St. Francis “to go to the homes of our brothers and sisters who cannot join us around this table and assure them of our love, support and union in Christ.” (Today, this is standard practice, and a good example of the restoration of an ancient custom.)
After communion at the main Sunday mass, about 75 people stand in the sanctuary each with a host or two in her or his hand. The presiding priest, following the final prayer, commissions them with a charge that goes something like this: You special ministers of mercy to the sick, go now and bring the Lord to our beloved parishioners confined within nursing homes, at hospitals and their own houses. Tell them this is today’s message (he summarizes the homily in a sentence or two). Tell them they are in our prayers. Tell them we need their prayers, their sufferings, their lives. He blesses the ministers and the congregation. Then the cross and candle bearers lead the recession out of the cathedral, followed by the 75 ministers. That action, repeated week after week, teaches in a powerful way how the entire Christian communion present and absent forms one body in the Lord. (“A Creative Worship Service,” Celebration, June 30, 1985)
Sister Thomasine’s foray into the neighboring community was matched by Monsignor Lucid’s equally successful ecumenical overture to our Protestant brethren. He struck up a happy friendship with the Reverend Boyce Von Osdel, the exuberant pastor of the First Baptist Church of Oakland, located a short block away. Their mutual fondness blossomed into an enriching and long-lasting relationship between our two churches. The like-minded churchmen began by collaborating on inner-city projects and ended up by sharing theological profundities over lunch. One day, Lucid suggested that in keeping with Vatican II’s emphasis on ecumenism, they bring their two congregations together for a joint worship service.
“Agreed!”
The Baptists offered to host the first reunion. Monsignor Lucid, accompanied by Keeley and myself, led a large contingent from St. Francis de Sales on foot down 22nd Street to the beautiful stone structure at the corner of 21st Street and Telegraph Avenue. Once inside, he gingerly mounted the First Baptist Church’s pulpit. He prefaced his sermon with these memorable words: “Brothers and sisters in Christ, we Catholics traveled one short block to join you today in worship. My only regret is that it took us four hundred years!”
Thereafter, joint services were celebrated twice a year: in January during the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity and on Reformation Sunday in October. The relationship with our Baptist “cousins” grew stronger and deeper over the years. Joint religious education and Bible study programs and numerous social projects reinforced and confirmed our respect and genuine esteem for one other.
The unusual partnering was not lost on the national Baptist scene. The following article appeared in The American Baptist, July–August, 1978:
Catholic-Baptist Dialog Aids Fellowship in Oakland
OAKLAND, ca ---The late Pope John XXIII opened windows which for too long had been closed to meaningful dialog and fellowship between Roman Catholics and other Christian communities. In Oakland, CA, two churches, St. Francis de Sales and the First Baptist Church, are addressing each other through those windows and sharing a common challenge to ministry.
“Our feeling was that the job of redeeming the inner city of down-town Oakland is too big for anyone,” recalled Dr. Boyce Van Osdel, pastor of first Baptist.
Inspired by the prevailing spirit of openness in 1970 the two churches established cooperative programs, and encouraged dialog, growth and closer relationships between the congregants.