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Contents © 2006
by Jim Holman.
All rights reserved.

ROAMIN' CATHOLIC
June 2006

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SAINT ELIZABETH OF HUNGARY, JULIAN

Saint Elizabeth of Hungary church, located at 2814 B Street in downtown Julian, has as patroness the 13th century princess famous for her charity to the poor and sick. She was married at age 14 to Louis of Thuringia and had three children. Widowed at 20, she became a Franciscan, and has been named the patron saint of the Franciscan Third Order. Canonized four years after her death at 24, her tomb is a place of miracles.

The parish was founded under Bishop Charles Buddy in 1949 and the church was built the same year. A simple country chapel with brown log exterior walls and a white steeple, it blends well with the logging and mining motifs of Julian, yet is unmistakably a Catholic church. The steeple's cross rises above the tree line and is visible from many points in the town.

Saint Elizabeth's currently has about seventy registered families. The parish suffered significant losses in membership after the fires of October 2003. The church was not damaged.

The nave contains 28 rows of pews, seating between 125 and 150 people. Oak paneling lines the walls. Brown drabness is relieved by stained glass windows, featuring -- among others -- the parish patroness and Saint John Vianney. On pedestals against the rear wall, stand statues of the Sacred Heart and Infant of Prague. Between them glows a stained glass image of Christ the Good Shepherd.

The sanctuary displays an example of a well-done renovation. The original sanctuary had a utilitarian altar and lectern of the same oak which lines the walls. From an old church they acquired an ornately carved, nineteenth century walnut altar and pulpit. The altar's mensa, used as the table of sacrifice, is separated from the retable and reredos which forms a separate high altar sheltered beneath a walnut canopy. On that altar sits the golden tabernacle, flanked by six candlesticks. On the reredos hangs an oriental silk and damask tapestry, serving as a background for the nearly six-foot carved oak crucifix.

I attended the 10:30 a.m. Mass on May 14, the fifth Sunday of Easter. The parish pastor, Father Anthony May, celebrated. He was assisted by two acolytes, a cantor, and an organist. The church was about one third full; mostly Anglos with a few Hispanics.

As they processed to the altar, one alb-clad acolyte served as crucifer and the other walked behind with palms joined. These two young men were well trained in altar service and showed exemplary reverence before, during, and after the liturgy. Father Anthony followed, vested in a white silk "Gothic" chasuble embroidered with a gold Y cross.

I noticed that as he celebrated Mass, Father Anthony had a smile on his lips and in his eyes much of the time. There was nothing artificial about this; the joy of his priestly service seemed to come from deep within him.

During the procession we sang the first two verses of Morning Has Broken, written by Eleanor Farjeon in 1957 and popularized by Cat Stevens in 1975. Led by the cantor and organ, the small congregation sang heartily.

After the Sign of the Cross and a greeting, Father Anthony led a responsive Kyrie litany, sans music. Having a naturally soft voice, he spoke into a standing microphone. The organ sounded an intro, and we sang the Gloria to Owen Alstott's 1987 Heritage Mass, which the people seemed to know well, judging from their gusto.

A red-haired woman went to the pulpit and read the first lesson, from the ninth chapter of Acts, in which Saul, having seen the Lord, fearlessly preached Christ in Jerusalem; and meanwhile the Church in all Judea, Galilee, and Samaria was built up and enjoyed a time of peace. She gave the responsorial psalm in spoken voice; verses of Psalm 22 with the refrain, "I will praise you, Lord, in the assembly of your people."

An elderly gentleman in a tweed jacket read the second lesson, from the first epistle of Saint John, reminding us that God's commandment is that we believe in his Son Jesus Christ and love one another.

The cantor sang the Alleluia from "O Sons and Daughters," which is in the second mode, followed by a verse in the eighth psalm tone, and returned again to the mode two Alleluia; a strange combination.

Then Father Anthony proclaimed the Gospel, Saint John 15:1-8; Our Lord's metaphor of his Church's union with himself: the vine and its branches.

Father's homily lasted about five minutes. He began by observing that today's Gospel comes from the middle chapter of Jesus' discourse at the Last Supper, recorded in chapters 14-16 of Saint John. He explained the figure of the vine and branches in personal terms; our soul's union with Jesus. He spoke of the necessity of union with Christ as the source of spiritual life. Using the second lesson as a supplementary passage, he emphasized that this union bears its fruit in keeping the commandments, especially love of one another.

After Mass, Father Anthony wished all the mothers a blessed and restful Mother's Day. He repeated his point: "And I do mean restful; you husbands and children should be waiting on them today."

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