The Texas Mission honored by the Pope

By Marianna Bartholomew

Erma Cardenas felt a strange sense of deja vu after moving to Von Ormy, Texas, in 1990. Attending Mass at St. Peter the Fisherman Mission in this rural community of 850, she wondered, "Where have I seen this building before?"

She learned the answer after volunteering at the parish and sifting through files one day. The church, she discovered, had once been the CCD building at her last parish, St. Anthony's in Elmendorf, more than 25 miles away! When St. Anthony's built better facilities, the old wood-frame, metal-roofed structure had been moved to Von Ormy for its budding new Catholic community.

But this was not the only interesting bit of history regarding the humble mission church. Cardenas learned that it had the rare distinction of being named by the Church's highest authority on earth.

'No-name' mission

The mission initially was called "Project 16," referring to the location of Catholics in tiny towns along Highway 16 south of San Antonio who were trying to form a mission. Then in 1988, Most Reverend Patrick Flores, Archbishop of San Antonio, called the Holy Father's secretary, Most Reverend Stanislaw Dziwisz, to inquire whether some pilgrims from the archdiocese could attend a private papal Mass. Receiving an affirmative answer, Archbishop Flores then asked, "How is His Holiness doing?"

"Fine," came the answer. "He's here if you want to greet him."

"No, I don't want to bother him," the Archbishop responded. 11 However, ask him something for me. Not too far from where he celebrated the field Mass when he was here [in 1986], we're going to start a church for poor people, predominantly Hispanic, and we don't have a name for it yet. I wonder if he could suggest a name?"

While the bishop conveyed this request to the Pope, Archbishop Flores could hear the two chuckling in the background. Returning to the phone, Bishop Dziwisz light-heartedly chided him. "The Pope says you're giving him jobs that don't belong to him! He doesn't go around the world, naming churches. But since you asked, he says the name that comes to his mind, one that he likes, is San Pietro il Pescatore."

Later at a planning meeting, Archbishop Flores asked the people's suggestions for the new mission's name. "Then when I told them what the Pope had said, they all yelled and screamed, "That's the name we'll take! Yes, let's have that name."

Arduous journey

The journey from "Project 16" to "St. Peter the Fisherman" actually spanned more than a decade of effort. Archbishop Flores had long been concerned about the Catholics who were scattered in rural communities along this vast sandy stretch. With the nearest churches in Poteet and Somerset, many families who lacked reliable transportation were unable to regularly practice their Faith.

The Archbishop asked volunteers from Somerset, Poteet and San Antonio to conduct a door-to-door census in 1981. Visitations resumed in 1987 in an effort to locate Catholics in the region. A total of 160 families were identified, and on December 10, 1987, 50 people gathered in the fire station in nearby Primrose to discuss establishing a mission.

One way to start, the mostly Hispanic group decided, was to celebrate the Posada, the reenactment of Mary and Joseph's difficult search for shelter until they find room at the "posada" (the Spanish word for "Inn"). For eight days that Advent, Catholics met at homes to read Scripture, sing hymns and enjoy refreshments. From this simple beginning, a Bible study group was formed, and 25 to 30 people started gathering at a member's home in the area.

A Franciscan brother traveled from San Antonio to help lead the Bible study. He asked the Archbishop to offer Mass for them once a month. The Archbishop gladly agreed and started liturgies in a building he describes as "part beer joint, part store." People brought their own chairs for the Masses. Sometimes they met in each other's backyards, garages or at the Primrose fire station.

"I asked people if they were planning on remaining in the area and had houses they were building," recalls Archbishop Flores. When they said "yes," he encouraged them to start planning to build a catechetical center, the first step towards establishing a mission and eventually a church. He asked them to look around for a spot to build on. That is when things really began to move for Project 16.

Land for the Lord

One parishioner informed Archbishop Flores that his employer owned thousands of acres along the highway. The Archbishop called the land developer, William Worth, and asked if he would be willing to sell the archdiocese five acres for the new church.

"No," replied Worth. "I'm not Interested in selling."

"Well, think about it," Archbishop Flores told him, "and then maybe somewhere down the tine, you'll reconsider."

"You didn't let me finish," Worth responded in his leisurely Texas drawl. "I'm not interested in selling it. I will give it to you.

What motivated the Methodist businessman to donate land for the Catholic Church? He says that he knew poverty from the rock quarry owned by his grandfather near San Antonio. His little hometown was composed of quarry workers and their families, both Anglo and Hispanic. "We would all eat together," he recalls, [at] whatever house we happened to be in."

Worth's parents were English and Irish but were not churchgoers. "My first exposure to the Lord was through the Catholic Church," he says. Missionary priests came and celebrated Mass at a building that had been erected for that purpose at the quarry. "It was hot in the summer, cold in winter," Worth remembers. "I was amazed that they would come out to this makeshift, dirty old building to celebrate Mass."

Later in life, Worth began going to a Methodist church near his home. He regards his success in land development as a gift from God. "Nothing's mine. It's all the Lord's. I'm not taking anything with me up to heaven."

The developer eventually doubled his donation to 10 acres of land. "I'm honored to be able to help," says Worth, who sees churches of all faiths growing in the area. "Jesus is big time here," he says. "I've done a lot of traveling all over the world, and you go to the United Kingdom or Germany and you can see where the Lord was once there and still is, but people don't seem too excited to have Him there. But He's big-time here."

Hand-me-down church

Now Project 16 Catholics had land but still no building in which to meet. "One day I went to bless a catechetical center in one of our communities called Elmendorf," recalls Archbishop Flores. "I asked the pastor, 'What are you going to do with the old catechetical center?"'

"'Well,' he said, 'if we can't sell it, then we're going to burn it because we need the space for parking."'

"Wait!" exclaimed the Archbishop. "I know just who can use it for a temporary church!"

Neighboring churches donated funds, and the Project 16 Catholics raised the rest of the $6,000 required to move the old building to Von Ormy. The people volunteered to remodel it, too, and on July 22, 1989, Archbishop Flores dedicated the new St. Peter the Fisherman Church to the great pride and elation of the people.

Visiting priests came to celebrate weekly Mass. One was Monsignor Henry Moczygemba, a retired priest who traveled from his home in San Antonio from 1991 until his death in 1995. "He was a very dear pastor," recalls Cardenas. "Although he wasn't a resident pastor, he was out here all the time. He was considered I retired,' but he didn't want to be called that."

For more than 30 years the legendary monsignor had traveled throughout south Texas, ministering to struggling rural missions, and he couldn't stop even in retirement. He "was a hero to many... able to preach with enthusiasm in English, Polish and Spanish," announced a local paper upon his death at age 80.

During his years at St. Peter the Fisherman, the colorful priest drew a faithful following and helped the mission survive when tragedy struck.

For three days one year, the church was repeatedly vandalized. On May 30, a mobile home used by visiting missionaries and for religious education classes was set on fire. Lost in the early morning blaze were an organ, desks, church supplies and other furniture.

Then, on Sunday June 2, a parishioner who was opening up the church for Mass found that vandals had returned and ransacked the church's little office and library. A statue of Our Lady of Guadalupe was defaced and several other statues destroyed. Water from a hose in the church's library had caused extensive damage, and windows were shattered in the church hall.

A saddened congregation gathered outside the church that morning for 8 a.m. Mass. A car trunk served as an altar. When Monsignor Moczygemba invited parishioners to share their thoughts during his homily, Carlota Cerna spoke up. "We are the living church," she said. "This will not stop us, we will succeed. The Lord is before us, and we shall follow."

Parishioners gathered what meager resources they could and gratefully accepted donations from sympathetic friends to restore their facilities. When Monsignor Moczygemba died in 1995, they carried on with heavy hearts.

But their sorrow soon turned to celebration when their first resident pastor was appointed. In fact, the mission became the "mother parish" of two other missions because Monsignor Charles Pugh was also assigned Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Mission in Bigfoot and St. Augustine Mission in Moore. Despite the strain of driving 100 miles roundtrip to serve these missions and battling ill health due to diabetes, the 60-year-old priest threw himself enthusiastically into St. Peter the Fisherman's project to build a church.

Keeping momentum going

The need for better facilities was desperate. The area was developing quickly, with families moving from San Antonio into new subdivisions along Highway 16. More than 331 families were parishioners, but the barracks seated only 125 people at each of its two Sunday Masses.

"Some no longer come for lack of room at our Masses," Monsignor Pugh reported to Catholic Extension in 1995. "And a few Protestant sects are now establishing themselves along the highway, trying to win over our families."

Monsignor Pugh asked for help to build a church, telling how parishioners had held dances, fiestas and other fund-raisers since 1987 toward this goal. The parish was growing, but "the needs of the people are also growing," added Archbishop Flores in his endorsement of Monsignor Pugh's request for aid. "Many of the heads of households are either unemployed or sub-employed due to the closing of a nearby air base."

With Sunday collections averaging only about $500 weekly, the people would have to wait years to build without outside assistance. In testimony to the urgency of the project, Archbishop Flores donated funds, as did the Archbishop of Miami and the bishops of the dioceses of Dallas and Galveston-Houston. Sisters of the Incarnate Word sent funds. And Catholic Extension sent an additional $60,000 that enabled the mission to go ahead with construction.

On June 9, 1996, Monsignor Pugh welcomed Archbishop Flores to his parish for groundbreaking ceremonies. Sadly, ill health forced the pastor to leave last year before the new church was completed. St. Peter's was once again without a resident priest.

"It was a growing experience, says Kattie Wells, who exemplifies the type of devoted parishioner that has kept this mission's doors open through thick and thin.

Wells' husband Richard retired from the military but works as a civilian contractor, traveling to the army base in San Antonio. He also is a deacon and was so busy with ministry at the mission during the four months before a new pastor arrived that Kattie scarcely ever saw him.

Born of a Jewish father and a Baptist mother and raised in Waco and Salado, Texas, Philadelphia and New York, Kattie Wells chose to attend Catholic churches in her youth, although she did not enter the Faith until adulthood. Her husband was originally a member of the Church of Christ, and when she asked one day if he wanted to visit a Catholic church, he responded very flatly, "I don’t think so!"

"But we went and talked to a priest," says Kattie, "because he figured it doesn't hurt to talk." Richard liked what he learned, and after completing 18 months of instructions the couple entered the Church in 1977.

Then Richard announced one day that he wanted to be a deacon.

"Excuse me!?" exclaimed Kattie.

"Why?"

"Because God wants me to, and the Church needs people to serve," Richard responded.

Kattie attended four years of classes and formation with her husband leading to his ordination. She says it helped her understand his vocation better and gave her deeper insights into her faith that helped fuel her work in the parish as secretary, volunteer bookkeeper and leader of one of the choirs.

The Wells moved to Von Ormy in 1993, and from the moment Kattie stepped into the church she sensed a special spirit there, she says "The old army barracks was never really attractive," she recalls. But a woman from the mission came to the door on that first day. "She welcomed you, and you felt the welcome," says Kattie.

This inviting, open spirit among parishioners bloomed into "an added pride, a feeling of ownership and joy" when their new church was completed, she adds.

Example of leadership

When the day for the church dedication arrived last July, women in Mexican dresses and men in jeans and cowboy hats were scurrying everywhere. By 10:45, the tan brick church was filled to standing room only. As Archbishop Flores, Father Miguel Arango-Medina, the newly appointed pastor from Colombia, and more than a dozen visiting priests processed around the outside of the church to bless the building, parishioners and guests followed with guitar and accordion, singing songs in Spanish

After the church was blessed, a reception followed with food lines that stretched out the door - a far cry from the days when volunteers scoured the countryside seeking Catholics to start a mission.

"We started in a beer joint, and now we have a beautiful church," says Archbishop Flores. "I'm very happy for the people, and I'm very grateful to Catholic Extension."

St. Peter the Fisherman is now a prominent landmark on the desert, drawing Catholics from neighboring towns and even from San Antonio. "People want to see the parish that succeeded without a resident priest," says Cardenas.

The parish is blessed in a unique way, having been named by Pope John Paul 11, believes Wells. The Holy Father is "one of my heroes," she says. "I have great faith that he's led by God."

"Because we were named by the Pope, it adds to the people's commitment to not let it fail," agrees Cardenas. "Also, this is Archbishop Flores' baby. There's this sense of 'Hey, can't let him down."' Indeed, some non-Catholic churches in the area have closed because Catholics have returned to practice their faith at the new St. Peter the Fisherman Church, says the Archbishop.

The Catholics of Von Ormy show the commitment and passion necessary to form the type of parish Pope John Paul 11 describes in his apostolic letter "Christifideles Laici." Quoted in Celebrate 2000!, a compilation of reflections by the Pope on preparing for and celebrating the Great Jubilee, he challenges laypeople everywhere. They "have the ability to do very much and, therefore, ought to do very much" toward building up their parishes to become "a house of welcome to all and a place of service to all."

Lay involvement has made St. Peter the Fisherman Parish a model for other small missions, says Cardenas. "At the beginning we were seen as a project. They had no idea it was going to work -a church growing without a resident pastor."

These laity have united to create what the Pope describes as a "fellowship afire with a unifying spirit, a familial and welcoming home."

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