Church of the Epiphany, San Francisco

The Churches of San Francisco

One Man’s Odyssey through the Catholic Churches of God’s Favorite City

by Ikaros, The Angel who Crash-Landed

PART II

Church of the Epiphany

827 Vienna Street (at Amazon Ave, in the Crocker-Amazon)

Visited 4 Jan, 2014, Vigil of the Epiphany

ARCHITECTURE:

Contemporized Roman Basilica lurking within a Mission Style Exterior

Strong Point:  Marble-veneered Altar, mosaic Stations of the Cross, Early Christian pillow capitols.

Weak Point:  Acoustic Wall Tile

MASS:

Liturgical Style –  Exuberantly reverent

Music –  Joyous

Homily – H3 (See rating sytem below)

“Back by Another Way”

I came here excited to celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany at its namesake church, reminded of the blessings our Church offers us in so doing by my companion at Mass.  We arrived by car from my friend’s out-of town home, seeking an experience of worship appropriate to this feast (a favorite of ours) in this parish on the quiet outskirts of my usually buzzing city.  I spent a few short minutes before Mass, scrambling to catch some photos of this attractive church in the still-bright light of early sunset.  The mission style exterior follows a simple outline true to its early-fifties origins, but this severe silhouette is relieved by a generous amount of graceful stonework which adorns the window and porticoes of the façade, and accentuated by an ornate campanile (bell-wall) rising prominently from the rear of the church.  Everything about the building seems a tasteful balance of simple forms and rich details. 

I was expecting something of a Mission-Style interior along the lines of St. Gabriel’s (you’ll get your turn to see that church later) as I entered a vestibule guarded by a Knight of Columbus in the order’s fancifully-resplendent attire, where the Vatican’s Swiss Guard meets the palace guards of the Wicked Witch of the West, with maybe a refined hint of Marvin the Martian thrown in for good measure. The mood was instantly set for an unexpectedly-festive celebration of worship in this tucked-away family parish.  Equally unexpected was the church interior that struck me upon entering the nave.  Directly ahead loomed the altar of a decidedly Roman Basilica, almost closer to the actual basilicas (courthouses) of the Romans than to the churches of the early Christians which followed their plan.  It has an imposing effect akin to that of the palace of the Wizard of Oz, if you’ll forgive me for repeating the Oz reference.  Equally praiseworthy was the utterly tasteful restraint exercised in filling the altar with so many lushly-foiled poinsettias and brightly-lit Christmas trees while maintaining a simplicity and uniformity of color and arrangement.  Classy, classy, classy.

I got only the altar photographed before squeaking in a swiftly-paced rosary in time for Mass, which began with a procession led by nine fully-bedecked Knights of Columbus (nine, a trinity of trinities; I wonder if that was deliberate) who separated into two files, raised their swords, and greeted the priestly procession as the people of Jerusalem greeted Our Lord on Palm Sunday.  It certainly set the pace for a ceremonious Mass, while providing us with this needed reminder that our priests celebrate Mass in the person of Christ.  When it comes to the Sacred Liturgy, my stinginess with compliments can make Simon Cowell look like Paula Abdul, but I must say I was floored.

The liturgy retained its joyous exuberance in every respect, without degrading toward the glib, cheesy, or feel-goodie, and this restrained balance of enthusiasm and dignity was a fitting parallel to the architecture and décor of the church itself.  The highlight of the readings for this feast of the Magi was Psalm 72: “Lord, every nation on the Earth will adore you”, written in the Old Testament to prefigure today’s very date in the New Testament, at which our newborn Lord was adored by Magi from distant lands across the Earth.  Wow.  From the first moment of Christ’s birth, he overturned the Jews’ expectations of a powerful messiah by his birth in abject poverty and humility, and yet the poor shepherds with dirt under their nails initiate the very first devotion of Adoration.  And then along come the Magi, Gentiles, as it were, and here we find the second Adoration of Our Lord, by prominent figures from far and foreign lands, overturning the Jews’ expectations that their messiah will come to serve their own political and national purposes.  One simple psalm, on a feast like this, and so much to learn from it. 

Following and reinforcing the message of Psalm 72, the readings were given in two languages, and the prayers of the faithful recited in turn in English, Chinese, Spanish, Italian, and Tagalog.  Lord, Every nation on the Earth will indeed adore you, and here we are.

In the Homily, the deacon used a successful and popular formula, beginning with something familiar or identifiable to us (in this case, some dog-and-pony show film which I had never heard of), to contrast to that which is beyond our reach or understanding, pointing us from where we stand toward that to which God is leading us.  I’ve heard this method degrade into feel-goodie homilies before, but our homilist today moved us into genuine inspiration, ending with a reminder of our world’s brokenness transformed by Our Lord in today’s feast.  He concluded with the image of the magi as a metaphor for ourselves at this feast, having travelled great distances to meet their King, transformed radically by their encounter with the Lord in this humble image of poverty, and following the angel’s words, they return home by another way.

I remembered at this late moment my plan to return on foot from each church I blog, to help transform an ordinary attending of mass into a true pilgrimage.  After Mass, I refused a ride home from my friend headed out of town, and made the three-hour trek home “by another way” like the Magi, walking many miles on the injured foot of my own brokenness, (see the last paragraph of previous post on Notre Dame des Victoires) through this City's intriguing matrix of multi-cultural neighborhoods.

 I would recommend a visit to this parish to anyone looking for a boost in their life of worship.

Tailgate:

I followed Amazon Avenue to Mission, where I turned north and headed homeward, looking for the first opportunity to sit before a meal or adult beverage and record my still-fresh impressions of Mass.  Mission Street is a kaleidoscope of international fare, and I passed by a few gems of opportunity before parking my dogs at “Joe’s Cable Car”, where Joe, according to multiple signage, “grinds his own chuck daily”.  I’ve passed by this place on the bus and wondered what lies within, and this was finally my chance to drop in.

"Joe Grinds His Own Fresh Chuck Daily"

(So that was him in the confessional tonight?)

Exuberant kitsch overload.  Gawd, I love it!

The bulletin insert was part of a study series on the Epiphany; what a great idea.  Kudos to the pastor on this one.

The place was decked-out in a Christmas-Past that Charles Dickens had never dreamed of.  The background décor is kind of Barney’s Beanery of L.A. meets Buca di Beppo at a 60’s drive-in burger joint, and ‘rumbles’ like the Sharks and Jets in a New York parking lot.  I was greeted and served by two waitresses, one in a mammy-wrap head scarf, the other sporting more piercings on her face than Our Lady of Sorrows has through her heart, and both of them endearing.  The food was good, the wine good, the atmosphere off the charts.  There was even a special “Epiphany Message” on the chalkboard in the Men’s Room, recording an alternate opinion from mine.

A Little History:

The Church of the Epiphany was founded nearby in 1911, and rebuilt at this location in 1950 to house an ever-growing congregation.  The racial demographics here have changed over the years, but the people’s love for their parish and the parish’s love for its people seemed to have remained a constant.

Cute little cul-de-sac in the Crocker-Amazon

Virgin Cocktail?

I walked for over three hours under this mystifying Dreamworks Moon

City Hall is all dolled up in the 49ers Team Colors.  I love the irrepressible spirit of this town. 

*   *   *   *   *

My “Hurricane-System” of Homily Ratings H5: Transformative The priest said or demonstrated something which altered my perspective so profoundly that I leave the church a different person than when I entered, and remain so.  The priest has not only challenged me toward growth but provided me with the tools or information I needed to accomplish and sustain that growth.  I have heard just a few such homilies in my life, so don’t be surprised if there aren’t (m)any times you see this rating come up. H4: Challenging The priest has made it clear that we are not complacently at the end of our journey, but in need of Christ to bring us closer to where He is calling us.  I feel challenged and encouraged to move beyond where I am now. H3: Inspiring This is a category of many beautiful and moving homilies, in which the priest has painted with words an image of spiritual fulfillment toward which we are all striving, but not necessarily mapped out the process for me to get there. H2: Feel-Goodie Everybody wants a homily that makes us leave Mass feeling good about who we are, but we’ll never grow in faith if all we get is a spiritual pat on the back and a candy bar.  Typically, these homilies ignore our church teachings by blithely side-stepping them, rather than outwardly contradicting them. Happily, I have heard very few homilies of this nature in the city of San Francisco.  H1: Negative The only thing worse than a priest making me feel good about being the unrepentant sinner that I am is a priest who makes me feel bad about it.  Gladly, I have heard so little fire-and-brimstone negativity in my lifelong practice of Catholicism that I can honestly expect not to use this rating at all. H0: Heretical Let’s hope that this is another category I can safely expect not to use.  I have, in my travels, heard views from the pulpits of Catholic churches which contradict Catholic teaching, but I don’t expect to happen across any contrary teaching here in my City and County.