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The Local Lens – Sitting in on Service at St. Anne’s


Far from the excessive papal lockdown of Center City, with its fences and overkill road restrictions, the open doors of Saint Anne’s Church on East Lehigh Avenue welcomed a diverse crowd for the Irish Peoples’ Mass on Wednesday, September 23rd. Music from the 2nd Street Pipe and Drum Band’s bagpipes reverberated in the air and an honor guard from the 69th PA Irish Volunteers electrified the 170-year-old church. Congregants waited for the entry of Irish dignitaries, such as Most Reverend Donal Murray DD, Bishop Emeritus of Limerick; the Reverend Peter Murphy DD, Executive Secretary, Commission for Pastoral Care and the Council for Marriage and the Family; and the Reverend Eamon Kelly LC, Vice Chargé at the Pontifical Institute Notre Dame of Jerusalem.

The special mass was organized in honor of the Irish Catholic Bishops Conference, an Irish episcopal delegation that was visiting Philadelphia for the World Meeting of Families. The main celebrant of the Mass was The Most Reverend Liam S. Mac Daid, DD, Bishop of Clogher. Although I arrived at Saint Anne’s after the opening processional, I found a seat along the left side of the church and immediately began surveying the people in the pews to see if I could spot any Riverward neighbors. By the end of the Mass I spotted only two, a low number to be sure but a number that speaks to changes in the neighborhood around Saint Anne’s in the last twenty years. Saint Anne’s church historian Thomas J. Lyons II told me later by phone, “Very few people in the church that night were parishioners.” Lyons explained that the original parishioners have all moved to the suburbs and that “80 percent of the people present for the Irish Peoples’ Mass were from outside the parish.” The closing of the once vibrant Saint Anne’s parochial school several years ago attests to the change in local demographics.

From my side aisle pew, my eyes focused on the ceiling of the church, unadorned and void of images, although that was not the case with the original church built in 1845. The original church ceiling was a tapestry of mosaics but these were destroyed along with the church’s interior by a fire in 1947.

Lyons told me that the fire lasted about one hour and did not destroy the main altar or the two magnificent Italian-Renaissance side altars. Thanks to the quick action by police and firefighters, many of the statues were carried out of the church and saved. Before the 1947 fire, Saint Anne’s was known as the most ornate church in the Archdiocese. While the church is still beautiful today, the blankness of the ceiling somehow hints that a part of the church’s grand past is missing.

Fortunately, the only smoke coming from Saint Anne’s altar on the night of the Irish Peoples’ Mass was the smoke of incense. For this reporter, the Mass was the first of a series of events marking the visit to Pope Francis to Philadelphia.   

Saint Anne’s is a church that I’ve largely taken for granted since moving to the Riverwards in 2002. While I knew part of its history, I did not know that John F. Kennedy visited the church in 1960 and that the parish cemetery contains the remains of Irish immigrants from 23 of Ireland’s 32 counties and at least 50 Irish Civil War dead.

Generally, I don’t enjoy listening to sermons in huge echo-resounding churches; in spaces like this human voice reverberations are bad enough, but add to that the lack of a microphone and an Irish brogue and you have a modern day Finnegan’s Wake. In other words, you get language that is indecipherable.

When celebrant Bishop Liam S. Mac Daid, DD took to the lectern for his homily, I was not the only one straining to make sense of his words. As it was, I could only catch random words like “referendum” and “marriage,” so I had some sense as to the subject matter: He was discussing Ireland’s referendum on same-sex marriage. But just when the situation seemed absolutely hopeless, a truly courageous woman in the congregation spoke up and told the bishop that nobody could hear anything he was saying. He was then handed a working microphone. This quick action inspired a round of applause from the congregation. While applause in a church is something I’m still not used to hearing, I was happy that the problem was solved.

But what the bishop said when he could be heard ruffled a few feathers among the faithful, especially Marita Krivda, author of Irish Philadelphia, who attended the Mass with her husband, T. Michael Poxon. I met Krivda after the Mass in the back of the church and asked her what she thought of the whole thing. She praised the Mass and its beauty before pausing.

“I think Pope Francis is refreshing for the Church. I love his liberalness, his views on climate change,” Krivda said. “He’s an old fashioned Jesuit but Bishop Mac Daid’s disapproval of Ireland’s referendum on same sex marriage and the appeal he made in his sermon to the courts of the world to uphold the traditional view of marriage is so against everything Pope Francis stands for. ‘Who are we to judge, indeed?’”

I wasn’t going to mention this topic because I figured that an old world Irish bishop is entitled to his opinions. There are liberal and conservative factions in the Catholic Church, just as there are in Congress.

At the post-Mass reception I spoke with another congregant who thought that Bishop Mac Daid’s harsh words were out of step with the new attitude exhibited by Pope Francis. Most of the congregation, however, seemed unmindful of the bishop’s remarks and focused on the high points of the event, especially the end of Mass entertainment by The Rince Ri Irish Dancers, who danced in front of the altar as the fife and drum band let out a few rich Irish melodies. It was a great musical interlude, to be sure, even if I imagined Catholic traditionalists squirming in their pews at the sight of people dancing in front of the altar.

Immediately following the dancing was Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament and more sweet smelling incense.    

After Mass I ran into Russ Wylie, president of Saint Anne’s Historical Committee and a member of the Friendly Sons of Saint Patrick. Wylie and I spoke on Saint Anne’s steps where 55 years ago John F. Kennedy told Riverward residents why they should not vote for Richard Nixon. Wylie said he was happy about Pope Francis’ decision to come to Philadelphia at this important time.

Wylie also mentioned Saint Anne’s 170th anniversary on October 17th. He explained that the anniversary event would be open to the public and would include a prayer service, a wreath laying and performances by the police and fire fife and drum corps as well as Civil War reenactors. An open reception will follow these ceremonies.  

At the post-Mass reception in Saint Anne’s Hall people relaxed with hors d’oeuvres, sandwiches, beer, soda and wine as an impromptu Irish band began a long interlude of music. The delegation from Ireland sat together at a long table. At one point I was invited to join the retired Bishop of Limerick, Donal Murray, who sat with a lay couple from a county near Dublin. I first spotted Bishop Murray while he was in procession during communion at Saint Anne’s and my initial instincts told me that he was somebody to speak to… I usually trust my instincts, so I was surprised when I wound up sitting beside him. My conversation with Bishop Murray included a discussion on Islam and Christianity, Catholic unity with the Orthodox Church and the fanatical fringe elements among ultra-traditionalist Catholics.

The following day, my head still full of religious imagery, I headed over to the Convention Center to view the World Meeting of Families exhibit. In one exhibition hall there was a large Mass with 40 or more priests with the altar set against a 60-foot-long mural of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Hundreds of congregants stood or kneeled on the floor, an odd sight in the convention center, as was the small, shrouded-in-darkness chapel of the Rosary where the only light was the spark from six tall candles and the reflection of a giant gold monstrance set against a life sized crucifix. The silence in that little chapel was comparable to the quiet of the Grand Canyon before sunrise.

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