"I Am A (St. James) Catholic, Please Call A Priest"

There are times in one's life when things get REALLY bad. Fortunately, those times seldom last long, and with support from good friends and family, those unhappy times can be made more bearable.

But... there are times in life when things get REALLY bad. I know. I said that; but still, there ARE those times....

One of the worst of those times for me hit in August of 1977. For one thing, I'd been searching for a full-time school teaching position for over four years without success. I'd been able to get by, of course, and even do fairly well as a Special Education tutor, substitute teacher, and weekend musician, but that full-time teaching position kept eluding me, even though I'd been an honors cum laude college graduate.

A significant part of my problem was that I had speech and hearing impediments, and these conditions fell into the mix of my perceived qualifications, or lack thereof, as school districts considered applicants back in those days before the "rights of the disabled" came fully into focus. The fact that I wanted to teach Special Education helped, but the fact remained that I'd applied to a number of districts and ended up watching a silent telephone.

In August, 1977, it all collapsed on top of me.

I'd tried and tried to find a way to be accepted as a full-time teacher, especially in Lakewood, but that was not to be. Finally, I just sank into the couch and covered my head with my hands.

That next Sunday, I went down to St. James. I'd been visiting a number of area churches in an effort to learn more about different aspects of spirituality, particularly in times of suffering. It was there at St. James that I heard a great guitar group playing and singing with an amazing amount of talent. It was also not lost on me that I was standing in the most beautiful sanctuary that I'd ever experienced in my life.

Right then and there, I asked to join that group.

For the next eight years, more or less, I had the pleasure of serving that guitar group and the people of St. James. In those wide open and accepting days, post Vatican II, there were no problems whatsoever with my being from a Protestant faith tradition. Not once was I ever asked to convert to Catholicism either. It was almost an incidental thing. I was a part of the family, accepted as is, and that was that.

Accepted, that is. As IS. Got that point?

That's the ONE thing that people having disabilities (today, called exceptionalities) need more than anything else in this whole world. Acceptance... as you are. That experience of acceptance probably saved my sanity. It certainly vaccinated my self-esteem and personal confidence.

Over that period of time, I participated in countless masses at St. James, prepared countless songs in collaboration with Fr. Andrews, and above all, grew and matured into the person who would indeed teach thousands of children, because the full-time job I so desperately sought (ultimately with the Parma City School District) came along shortly after starting my journey at St. James.

As the 80's went along, more and more people drifted away from that guitar group as circumstances of life intervened, and frankly, the Catholic Church seemed to be taking a hard right turn away from some of the reforms of Vatican II. Guitar masses started fading away, as traditional doctrines and ways of doing things were reasserted. For many Catholics, it was a relief that those "liberal tendencies" had finally been stopped. For many others, those were sad times coming back once again.

I stayed with St. James pretty much until the bitter end of the Guitar Mass wars. Sure, the guitars would certainly continue from time to time in a few Catholic churches, but those days of free-form folk singing during Mass were pretty much over by the mid-eighties. Bach was back, and for many, it was about time, too. For others like myself, it was about time to move on, and so we did.

Since those days, I've served a number of other churches and voluntary groups with guitar and banjo. I still see, and cherish, many of my old friends from the St. James days.

Once in awhile, I'll drop in to St. James and say a prayer of gratitude and blessing for that special church. It will always hold a place in my heart that can never be diluted. It was there that I found a loving acceptance, and from there that I emerged better prepared to take on the rest of the world.

The supreme irony, to me, is that the Catholic Church hierarchy in Cleveland these days seems to be seeking a more "vibrant parish life," even as they seek to close or consolidate parishes like St. James. It would be hard for me to imagine a more vibrant, caring, accepting, and family-like parish than the people who comprise the St. James community.

My family and I came from hundreds of years of proud and independent Protestant faith traditions. That's where I was raised and still attend, and I still probably hang my hat on a number of their fundamental precepts, but believe me when I tell you I will always be a "St. James Catholic." How could I ever be anything less?

In fact, here's an idea: I think that everyone in Lakewood needs to become a "St. James Catholic" now. I really don't know how they work it, but maybe we ALL should register at St. James! Whatever your faith tradition might be--whether you're Baptist, Presbyterian, Methodist, Lutheran, or whatever--the time is now to stand up for the parish of St. James. That church building alone is a priceless architectural treasure in our city, but the parishioners are the true treasure here. They're our friends and neighbors. They need our help, and they need it right now.

The St. James' final closing decision appeal is apparently in the hands of the Vatican. Just imagine if they discovered that fifty thousand more Lakewoodites had recently been added to the parish rolls.....

You know, you can argue just about any point in religion, except love.

Save St. James.