was as hardworking and fun-loving as they come. And his great dream was to reconnect the school with the parish. (Over time the two populations had drifted apart and rarely related to each other.) He put forward an ingenious proposal: “Let’s involve our school kids in the parish’s liturgy on Sundays.” Summertime would be ideal, he noted, because the children could be prepared and trained during the forthcoming Summer School Project, which was to last five weeks. “After the final Mass,” he suggested, “we can put on a 'Cathedral Carnival' as a fund-raiser for the school!” He even proposed a theme for the first July Summer Series. We should call it Life, I Love You! (an English translation of the recurring Greek phrase in one of Lord Byron’s poems, Zoe mou sas agapo).
The faculty and staff were eager to begin, Father Keeley announced. “All we need is for Father Don to pull it all together!” This would be a challenge. Working with children had never been my forte. I did have, however, some experience directing children’s choirs and coaching youngsters in dramatic skits. I would have to find a way of including children as key ministerial elements into a medium designed for adults. It was worth a try. Besides, I felt that the entire enterprise was a stroke of genius!
The concept of a ritualized children’s liturgy was virtually unknown in those days. There were no official guidelines or regulations. One had to proceed solely on instinct and the general ground rules set forth in the documents of Vatican II, which essentially said: Get everyone, young and old, to internalize and express their faith by actively participating in the Church’s worship.
Actually the challenge was a winning proposition from the start. We soon discovered that children, when performing for an adult audience, can get away with just about anything. In our case, we found that our well-rehearsed and tutored kids became a catalyst transforming cold and isolated churchgoers into a warm, open-hearted community. Experiencing the children at prayer reminded one of the mystery of human innocence, underscoring the relevance of Christ’s admonition: “Unless you become like little children, you will not enter the kingdom of God.”
The process of preparing for these Sunday Masses uncovered hidden talents among the children and taught them new skills. Through ensemble singing, dancing and the art of dramatic presentation, they learned the rudiments of artistic discipline. By sewing costumes and creating liturgical art pieces, they learned to incarnate spiritual realities in images and sacred icons. Each day, the children were reminded that the sole purpose of their artistic efforts was to help people pray and worship God in a more vibrant and prayerful way. Weekly rehearsals in church introduced the children to the special magic of God’s house — a sacred place where people came together to encounter their Heavenly Father.
One of the highlights of the series — along 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
