Church Shopping Part VI: Sts Currier & Ives

The next congregation I visited was located within a historical village populated by restored 17th, 18th and 19th century buildings. The church itself was built in 1862 in the Romanesque Revival style and is a New York City landmark. The antiquity and charm of the church and its surroundings bring to mind sentimental scenes of Christmas caroling, riding in a one-horse open sleigh, and other images of old-time Americana, hence my nickname for the parish.

It is a beautiful brick church with wonderful stained glass windows. There were about 150 people crowded in at a noon Mass, with room for about 40 more. A young lady wearing a choir robe led the congregation in the entrance hymn of Adeste Fidelis- in Latin and English. She had a heavenly voice, one of the best I've ever heard. A good percentage of the congregation was even singing along with her, but that Catholic miracle can perhaps be explained by the fact that it was Christmas carols we were singing. People like and know those songs. The real test comes during the rest of the year, when most congregations usually sit mute during the hymns, and usually for good cause owing to the unsingable nature of most modern hymns.

The Mass proceeded without incident. There were only 2 things I shall comment on. The first was during the second reading. The reading was Col: 3:12-21, and the young lady reading it (not the singer) rather conspicuously omitted the last few sentences, which contained Paul's famous admonition for wives to be subordinate to their husbands. It made me wonder why these few sentences were left out. Is this a politically correct parish, where they dare not offend the feminists? Why do Catholic misalettes even offer a "short form" of this reading, or any reading? Are we ashamed of the Word of God? Are we looking for any angle to make the Mass go faster, even by 30 seconds? The whole thing was absurd.

The second thing I'd like to comment on is, of course, the sermon. The priest appeared to be Filipino, and spoke English with a bit of difficulty. He started off reiterating, almost word for word, that day's Gospel reading. That really gets under my skin. WE JUST HEARD THE GOSPEL! WE'RE NOT IDIOTS! WHY ARE YOU REPEATING IT??? As it was the feast of the Holy Family, he then went on to lament the disintegration of so many families today and attributed that state of affairs to the fact that families don't spend much time with each other nowadays. O....K....I suppose that is one cause of the problem. Would you care to offer a solution, Father? Since one of the conspicuous sins of our Staten Island community is crass consumerism, would you care to admonish us with the prophetic role of your office and declare that mothers should stay home to take care of their children, that fathers do not need to work like slaves to buy million dollar McMansions, 4 Escalades and every ridiculous gadget that Best Buy dangles in front of our faces? Unfortunately, he let a potentially edifying point remain undeveloped and descended into platitudes. He went on to tell us that the Holy Family is the ideal family because Joseph worked hard to support his family, Mary was holy, and Jesus didn't embarrass his parents by flaunting His divinity over them. I kid you not. Like pretty much every Catholic sermon I've ever heard, it was vague, meaningless and thus without any value whatsoever. I suppose I should thank God that it was merely banal, and not heretical or moronic.

Nevertheless, it seemed like a vibrant parish with good people. Perhaps I'll come back for a second look.

Church Shopping Part V: Roman Senate

The next stop on the tour was a stately North Shore church that resembles the ancient Roman Senate, - a high ceilinged rectangular building with an apse and slightly jutting columns against the walls. Except for primitive, 1960s-style Stations of the Cross, the decoration was traditional and admirable. It had beautiful stained glass windows and old fashioned statuary. There were banners on the walls, but unlike the felt rectangles bedecked with warm and fuzzy socialist slogans ("We are Church", etc.) you find in modernist parishes, like the Gymnasium, these banners displayed Renaissance art. Whoever decorated this church had some taste.

There were about 130 people, racially mixed, at a 12 noon Mass on a rainy Sunday. The processional set the tone for the entire experience of Mass at this parish. The organist asked us to join in singing a particular hymn, but did not tell us where to find it in the hymnal and then didn't even play the organ or sing anything. It was like something from Waiting for Godot. The snowy-haired priest looked like the priest from Everybody Loves Raymond. He used a cane and hobbled up the aisle behind his altar girl, looking like he was going to topple over at any moment. The first part of the Mass went by uneventfully, and then the priest limped over to the pulpit to give his sermon.

He had a surprisingly youthful voice and knew how to establish a connection with the congregation by looking at us and speaking somewhat conversationally, but not informally. Unfortunately, his sermon was as disjointed and banal as those of most other priests. He began by talking about an infomercial for an exercise machine he had recently seen which promised results with only 20 minutes of use each day. Father then mused how much spiritual benefit we would obtain if we devoted 20 minutes each day to God. That was a GREAT point- the next logical step would have been for him to expand upon it and tell us HOW to commune with God each day and gain those spiritual benefits. Sadly, his idea remained undeveloped and he abruptly veered off onto an anecdote from Grandma's favorite newspaper columnist, Irma Bombeck. She had written about an incident in church where she witnessed a mother admonish her child for smiling at the other congregants, which led Father to speak vaguely about our "God of Love" who wants us to be happy, and how we should be joyfully celebrating the upcoming birth of Christ. His peroration was memorable to me, as it included both a Scriptural quotation (unusual for a Catholic sermon!) and an insipid, sentimental misinterpretation of said Scripture. He said that when we go to Heaven, we want God to say "Well done, good and faithful servant" (MT 25:21) BECAUSE "You made my people smile"! That sermon certainly made me smile (for the wrong reasons) but I'm pretty sure that our eternal reward will not be based on our ability to amuse others.

The next portion of the Mass was even more entertaining. After his sermon the priest went to the altar and waited as one of the ladies went to the pulpit and read off the names of the winners of the church raffle! She then announced that there would be supermarket gift cards for sale in the foyer after Mass. Why are modern Catholics so clueless about...well, everything??? In what universe is it considered sensible, appropriate or reverent to interrupt a 2000 year old religious ritual in order to announce the winners of a game of chance and hawk products to the worshippers? Do they not realize the effect that has??

Recognizing the priorities of the parish, the ushers respectfully refrained from taking up the collection while the lady was announcing the raffle winners, and waited until the priest began to say the blessing over the gifts. The rest of the Mass proceeded with similar unsynchronized confusion- over when to stand and sit, silence during the responses, etc. What was most surprising was that the entire Mass lasted only 30 minutes. I'd never witnessed a Mass with a sermon last only a half hour. The rain on my coat hadn't even dried yet.

Despite all the bumbling, I left with a good feeling about this parish. I can't say why, because if I had witnessed some of these things at other parishes, with other priests and other people, it would have set me off. Maybe it was because I felt like the people and the priest were genuine, sincere, and faithful. I have no explanation for my positive reaction, but I liked the place.

Catholic Church shopping Part IV: the Gymnasium

I have written before about the next church I visited. This large parish on the South Shore has torn down its old church and is building a humongous modernist monstrosity in its place. For the time being Mass is held in the school gymnasium. There's really not that much to say. I didn't see any bulletins, so I can't comment on the life of the parish. It was a mid afternoon Mass and still drew a lot of people, perhaps 200. There is a large school connected to the parish, so in those situations I wonder if Mass attendance is mandatory for continued enrollment. The people certainly didn't seem like they wanted to be there. The altar was located at half court, against the wall, which gave it a theatre-in-the-round feel. The Indian priest gave a convoluted, uninspiring and unmemorable sermon. He spoke at length about what Hindus believed and said some vague things about that day's reading from the Book of Revelation. The music was played with skill by some musicians on the stage. and consisted of the post Vatican II second tier standards that grate on your nerves after a lifetime of hearing them. One thing I will remember about this church is that the congregation was perhaps the most slovenly group of people I have ever seen. Perhaps one or two older folks were dressed appropriately, while the majority were clad in jeans, t-shirts, sweatpants, shorts, and velour jogging suits (the uniform for Staten Island women) . The Gymnasium proved to be yet another disheartening experience for me.

As Sting sang, "Don't stand so close to me"

This photo in the current issue of Catholic New York accompanied an article about a diocesan pastors' convention. I've made sardonic references on this blog to the "traditional Catholic seating pattern" which means sitting as far away from everyone else as possible. This picture illustrates why no one has ever tried to tackle this pernicious habit of ours, which tells the world that we fear and dislike each other: if the pastors are doing it amongst themselves, why should the laity do any different?? Here we have a Mass for priests only, with the majority crowded in the back of the church, perhaps because they couldn't find a pew all to themselves, like the priests in the foreground. Maybe they're afraid of the non-existent swine flu plague. I've been to several churches recently that have canceled the handshake of peace due to swine flu fears. Maybe they'll cancel Mass next. What a joke.

Father and his boyfriend.

The Advance ran an obituary the other day for a priest, Rev. Daniel Cassiero, who had served in several Staten Island parishes and schools during the 70s, 80s and 90s. Passing away at the fairly young age of 66, the Advance detailed the various milestones of Father Cassiero's life and career. Towards the tail end of the standard obituary verbiage, the following bombshell was inserted nonchalantly:

"Father Cassiero retired from the VA in 2004 and moved to Albuquerque with his partner, Craig Stoebling. While there, he enjoyed volunteering for the VA pharmacy in Albuquerque.

“He served in a variety of ministries, where he was known for his humor and the quality of his preaching,” said Stoebling, his partner of 10 years."

Whoah.

Obviously, these 2 short sentences don't provide too much information, but I think the fact of a gay priest merits some notice and discussion. I have questions. When did he first break his vow of chastity? If it was during his time in the Church, is it possible that no one noticed that he had taken up with a "partner"? And if they did, why was nothing done about it? He served as an Air Force chaplain over the course of 9 years, with a brief interlude as master of ceremonies at St. Patrick's Cathedral. How did this young and obscure priest from the boonies of Staten Island obtain such a prestigious position? Why does the phrase "Lavender Mafia" come to mind? After retiring from the Air Force, he then became a public school teacher in Virginia. That seems very odd. What was the reason for his early retirement and subsequent career as a public school teacher? Why Virginia? He then returned to the Island and taught at a local Catholic high school. How did he explain his unusual career path to whomever interviewed him at Moore? After getting a Masters in social work, he then spent the remainder of his working life as a social worker with the VA. Why? Did he have a religious function there or was his position purely secular? How was that allowed by his superiors? What kind of priest was he? Was he the kind of priest who inspires young men to consider the priesthood? Or was he the kind of effeminate gay priest who repels young men from anything having to do with religion? If he was breaking his vows, and living an unnatural lifestyle contrary to the Magisterium, how faithful and orthodox could his leadership have been? What could his "quality" preaching have been like if his lifestyle was in such contradiction to basic Christian morality? I would be interested in hearing what his former parishioners have to say about that.

I went to the website of the Albuquerque parish that is burying Father Cassiero. The church describes itself as "a multi-ethnic, multi-racial and multi-cultural inclusive Christian Community." To be charitable, the wording may be unintentional, but "inclusive" is usually a euphemism meaning that "the rainbow flag flies here".

And again, to be charitable, the quality of journalism at the Advance has sunk to such horrendous levels that their inept grasp of the English language may have misrepresented Father Cassiero's business partner as something totally different. Judging from his Facebook page, I would say not though. (Note- the Facebook page has been changed- here is the original picture:
It took the sex abuse Gethsemane of recent years for the Church, led by Benedict XVI, to take positive action against the pernicious cancer of homosexuals in the priesthood. God willing, the Pope's directives will be effective. How many actively gay priests are still in the priesthood is anyone's guess, although I've heard too many high-pitched lisps and slack morality from the pulpit to think that the number is negligible. No doubt we'll see more reports in coming years of priests retiring to sunny climes with their boyfriends and an Archdiocesan pension. But let us not respond to these monstrous revelations with either resigned silence or meaching tributes to their sense of humor, their prize winning gardenias or the delicate skill with which they threw a tea party. Let us name them for what they are: liars, con artists, oath-breakers, deceivers, and a Fifth Column of corruption within Christ's Church.

UPDATE, APRIL 26, 2019: The Cardinal has published a comprehensive "List of Archdiocesan Clergy Credibly Accused of Sexual Abuse of a Minor or the Subject of Eligible IRCP Compensation Claims". Daniel Cassiero's name was on the list, in the section for clergy whose accusers were eligible for compensation. The men in that section were not officially charged with anything since they were deceased at the time of the accusation and so could not defend themselves. The verbiage strains to make clear that the fact that one's name is on the list does not equate with a guilty conviction in a court of law. However, it must be noted, the claims were deemed credible enough to entitle accusers to financial compensation. Therefore, it seems like some of the anonymous comments here may have validity. 

Another hidden treasure on Staten Island

The Advance reported on a convent that I myself only recently found out existed on Staten Island. The "Sister Disciples of the Divine Master, a branch of the Pauline family" has a fairly large spread hidden on a small side street off of the top of Bradley Avenue. I only discovered it by accident and no one I know had ever heard of it until I told them. I had meant to investigate it and take some pictures but never had the chance. The large fence surrounding the property also seems to discourage snooping. However, the sisters are making an attempt to be hospitable and are opening up their chapel to visitors Monday through Saturday, 1-6. On the first Sunday of every month they also host a prayer hour from 3-4, followed by a coffee and cake social. The article states that they make a living weaving and embroidering liturgical vestments.

St. Francis Seminary

In our continuing pictorial documentation of Staten Island's Catholic institutions, today we'll look at the St. Francis seminary, now known as the St. Francis Center for Spirituality (!) Located in bucolic splendor at the highest point of Staten Island, on ritzy Todt Hill, I really have little information about it except that it was once a Franciscan seminary. One source says that it has been there since the 1800s, although the main building looks somewhat more recent. It once encompassed 24 acres of beautiful woodlands that are very conducive to spiritual introspection and inner peace, but with the modern lack of vocations, the land was put on the market in the 90s. Fearing the ugly, generic overdevelopment that plagues the rest of the island, our environmental groups made a stink and pressured the state into buying and preserving the land, while the Franciscans retained ownership of the buildings.

Some Franciscans still live there. One, a Father Ed Holden (not sure if he's still there), used to have a weekly column in the Advance in which he answered religious questions from correspondents. The questions always seemed scripted to me, and the subject matter was usually frivolous ("will my cat go to heaven?"), but sometimes he ventured into quite unorthodox territory (praising Martin Luther, saying we should accept homosexuality, etc.). I was always embarrassed by his column. Another Franciscan who lived there, Fr. Stephen Valenta, was indicted in April by a Texas grand jury on the charge of "compelling" an adult female relative to perform a sexual act on him. The charge sounds bogus though, as the priest is 85 years old and physically impaired. I have seen no updates on the story from our local rag. The Franciscans conduct some very nice programs which are open to the public, although I haven't attended any. I have been to midnight Mass at their beautiful chapel though and was very impressed by the facility. Here are some pictures:

The main building:


St. Francis;


A hillside shrine:



The peaceful pond:


One of the stations of the cross meandering through the hills: