First, I want to thank all of you for being here today. I want to particularly thank my brother priests who were able to take time out of their busy schedules to be here, especially on a Sunday; and I’m aware of how difficult it was for some of them to arrange to be here. Most importantly I wish to thank Bishop Andrew, not only for celebrating with us today in the beautiful way he always does, but for giving me the greatest blessing of my life so far: that of the privilege of assisting him in the pastoral care of this wonderful parish.
When I came here some five years ago, I came alone. As most of you know, I have no family anywhere near this part of the country. My father is gone, and my mother is much too ill to go traveling anywhere. And I remember being told that it was going to be difficult because no one here really wants to help with anything. But, thankfully, I had enough experience as a priest to pay no attention to such things, and found out almost immediately how exactly the opposite that was. I had help and support from so many of you, most of whom are here right now, and some of whom are, sadly, no longer with us. Of course, given the timing of my arrival here, the Centennial of our parish was on my mind almost immediately; and there is no way that I could adequately thank those who gave of themselves to make today’s celebration so wonderful for all of us. Of course, you have the names of our Centennial Committee in the pamphlet in front of you; but that can’t possibly do justice to what some of those people gave in terms of time and effort to this endeavor. For me to attempt to single out any of them would be risky and unnecessary, since they didn’t do it for the sake of being thanked. They did it because St. Michael’s is their parish, and because, in their reality, their parish is still important.
Realistically, we have to acknowledge that there are not many of them left: these folks who believe that Church and parish are a crucial part of life. For many Catholics today -- if not for most -- the parish is a convenience: a place where one’s obligations are fulfilled; something to be "fitted in" when possible amid a plethora of other duties and obligations; and usually the first to be sacrificed when there isn’t enough time for everything.
That’s what makes today’s event -- as well as so much that has happened before it in the last few years -- so edifying. And without patting ourselves on the back, as a parish we should reflect upon that. How many times have we heard -- or even said ourselves -- all those things you hear said in every old parish: "We used to do this. We used to do that? We used to have to put chairs in the isles on Christmas. We used to have bake sales that drew people from Arizona." It’s too easy to look back on the history of a parish and say things like that. There’s a difference between commemorating the past and trying to foolishly live in it; and those who do try to live in it are always going to be pessimistic about the present because the present is not the same as the past. But those people have a problem today, because they now have to find a way to explain the last three years ... they have to find a way to explain what’s happening here today. Twenty years ago 90% of St. Michael’s parishioners lived within five or ten minutes of their church; today, there are four households within a five mile radius as the neighborhood has changed; and, yet, they come. No, we’re not baking a million perohi’s and selling them to Mack Truck for a profit; nor should we be, nor would we have the time. Twenty years ago we didn’t have the majority of our parishioners commuting 20 or 30 miles to be here on Sunday; we didn’t have both parents working to keep the family afloat; our children didn’t have to be chauffeured to soccer on Monday, swimming on Wednesday and cheer leading on Friday. Times have changed. What’s more, there’s nothing wrong with that. It only becomes "wrong" when we succumb to the temptation of living in the past, then passing judgment on the present because of it.
Back at the beginning of this year, when we received the new books for the Divine Liturgies of St. John Chrysostom and St. Basil the Great, we made the changes here at St. Michael’s immediately; we didn’t wait for the June deadline as many parishes did. And you may remember -- and I know some of you do because you’ve mentioned it to me many times since -- that I spoke to you about the history of our Ruthenian Church, and I mentioned the fact that, for most of us, our historical perspective begins the day we are born. We know what we did as children; we know what our parents did; we know what our grandparents told us they did; and, based on that, we presume that that’s the way it always was, even though reason tells us that, since our Church is over 300 years old, that can’t possibly be true; but we believe it anyway and cling to it because we have an emotional attachment to our own experience. In the near future, you’ll receive a book which is being published in commemoration of this event today, and which chronicles the history of our parish. You do not have it today because our publisher, Mr. Shaifer, who is with us today, felt very strongly that today’s events should be included in it. Some of you, I’m sure, think you know the history of St. Michael’s. Take my word for it: what you think you know is only part of the story. When you do read it, I would ask you to read it reflectively, in the hope that you will be struck by something that struck me. The people who founded this parish would not recognize it today, anymore than we would recognize their vision were we to go back in time and be a fly on the wall at that meeting in the home of Michael Hvizda on April 13, 1907. And yet, as you read through it, and are made dizzy by the changes that took place over the course of one hundred years, I hope that you will see what I saw: the one constant that never did change from that day until this: the unshakable faith of the people of this parish in our Lord, God and Savior, Jesus Christ.
The history of a parish is not contained in a list of its founders or parish priests, nor the history of its building and construction, nor even the history of its many celebrations and activities. The history of a parish is to be found in the personal, individual story of each and every soul who ever passed over its threshold. That story cannot be told in words or recounted in a book; there are no pictures of it. Each one of us knows what our parish has meant to us in the course of our lives; and that story is different for each one of us.
As we, the people of St. Michael’s Church, celebrate this great milestone in the history of our parish family, it is important that we always remember the reason for the existence of any parish community: not culture or background or national origin, not activities or organizations, but Our Lord and God and Savior, Jesus Christ! He is the only reason our parish was founded, and the only reason that should now draw us here again and again to worship.
May the honorable and glorious Archangel Michael continue to bless our parish with many good things. May Christ continue to be the center of our parish’s life, and may we continue to worship him at St. Michael’s Church for many years to come.
Father Michael Venditti
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