Saint Benedict Parish for the Deaf at Saint Francis Xavier Church, 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 III

St. Benedict Parish for the Deaf

at St. Francis Xavier Church

1801 Octavia Street (at Pine Street, in Pacific Heights)

Visited 12 Jan, 2014, Feast of the Baptism of Our Lord

ARCHITECTURE:

Korean Missionary

Strong Point:  Screens behind Altars, Franz Mayer Stained Glass Windows

Weak Point:  70’s-style Banner behind Altar

MASS:

Liturgical Style –  Simple, Joyful Reverence

Music –  Simple

Homily – H4 (see below) 

“Medicine for the Soul”

I woke up sick as a dog yesterday.  Whatever happened, it happened swiftly over the course of the night, and today’s ambitious plans for a long pilgrimage across town were therefore re-configured.  I am also still limping on a badly-injured foot, so I wanted to be close to home, away from crowds, away from germs.  My nearest church would be St. Boniface, lying squarely within the squalor of the Tenderloin.  In my quest to steer clear of germ warfare, I can’t see myself stepping over diseased crackheads on my way to church today, so I looked at the churches in the near vicinity and came upon a brilliant idea: St. Benedict’s Mass for the Deaf (in American Sign Language).  Just what the doctor ordered: a small crowd at a silent mass close to home, and if nobody’s talking, then nobody’s breathing on me.

Understandably, I have never been to Mass at this church which holds services only in Korean or American Sign Language.  It’s a lovely little church which would look perfectly at home in a Japanese fishing village or Korean mission, and all the lovelier on this warm, sunny January day.  I had taken some pictures of the exterior and was beginning my ascent up the steps, when I heard the unsettling sound of loud moanings from the vestibule – a sobering reminder of the sufferings of those who are born without the gift of hearing.  My mood sank down to my broken feet as an empathetic cloud of darkness formed over my sunny day.  But I had barely climbed three more steps before my sense of humor came to my rescue.  The continued moans did indeed sound like angry muppets recording a radio ad for “Pizza Orgasmica”, I mused, as I entered the church with a guilty smirk on my face to soften the riveting compassion I was feeling for the deaf.  And reaching the top of the stairs, I came to a place of sincere gratitude to God for a gift of hearing which I had taken so much for granted.

I was welcomed warmly by the usher, and took a few photos around the church (I was especially impressed by the seamless marriage of Asian and Christian sensibilities at the altars) before taking my seat while the projector screen was lowered behind the pulpit.  A parishioner in full-on 49’ers regalia approached me with a greeting of welcome in a soft, kind voice.  It had taken me all of three minutes to make a friend in this warm-hearted parish.  As the processional began, the priest greeted me from the sacristy doorway with a genuine smile, which instantly disposed me toward a positive experience of this Mass.  More noteworthy than the processional hymn itself was the experience of seeing it performed in sign language by twins in matching 49ers scarves as the priest approached the altar.  The entirety of the Mass was spoken in English, while being simultaneously signed in ASL, as the words were projected onto the screen behind the pulpit.

Musically, I would say the highlight of Mass would be the drumbeats during the Alleluia, which reinforced the harmony of Christian and Korean influences already represented in the décor of the church, in a way which conveyed a profound sense of wonder and mystery.  The homily was brief and simple without lacking anything in depth or meaning.  On this feast of the Baptism of Our Lord, we were reminded of how the benefits of our baptism are balanced against a responsibility on our part to live up to the gifts we receive therein, in order to fulfill the work to which Christ is calling us. The pastor, Father Paul Zirimenya, was kind and encouraging in tone, with the concern of a loving father for the spiritual well-being of his family.

Along with the processional and Alleluia, the recessional was the only other music I recall from Mass, and again beautified by the twins signing the lyrics in graceful unison.

I left St. Benedict’s little church feeling like a member of the parish, as if this community had found me, rather than the other way round, for which I thank the priest for instilling Christ’s message of love into his parish family, and thank that family, for hearing and living this message.  I came here in search of a place to incubate while my body recovers from flu, and found a place for my soul to recover from its spiritual deafness.  I would recommend this parish, of course, to anyone deaf or hard of hearing, but also to anyone seeking a tight-knit sense of community with their parish, and anyone longing for more a more immediate sense of fatherly leadership from their pastor.  There is simply not room enough at the top of Fr. Paul’s homework paper for all the stars I’d give him.  Thank you, Father, I love you and your parish family dearly, and long to return.

Franz Mayer's signature motif is the stylized halo.  Beautiful, isn't it?

I love these Stations of the Cross.  What a symphony of eastern woodwork and western sculpture.

(if we must artistically sell our soul to the 70's, could we pick the 1870's next time?)

Tailgate:

I enjoyed a sunny walk home down the slopes of Pacific Heights, admiring the gracious Victorian homes, and paused at the heaving stone bulk of Trinity Episcopal Church to poke through the open doors and sneak a glimpse of the interior I’ve always wondered about. From there, I turned to the traffic corridor of Van Ness Avenue/Hwy 101, which was enlivened by red geraniums bursting into bloom in this enduring midwinter heat wave.  Later in the afternoon, a dear friend emerged from over a year of hiding and accompanied me back to Japantown for a shopping spree and a hearty dinner at a second-story Ramen house perched along Buchanan Street’s outdoor mall.  Authentic Japanese “Ramen-House” ramen was a new discovery for both of us, and a world apart from anything you’ll ever find in a supermarket.

The old Cadillac showroom is now a cineplex with the snazziest lobby in town.

Parish History:

St. Benedict’s occupies the site of a Pacific Heights Mansion, parts of which I’m told are still in use as the rectory.  This is not a geographical parish belonging to those living within boundaries drawn onto a map, but a parish belonging to those throughout the archdiocese who are deaf.  It is a double parish, in fact, also holding masses in Korean.  I might guess that the lengthy name of “St. Benedict Parish for the Deaf at St. Francis Xavier Church” reflects its double status as a parish for the deaf merged with a parish for the Korean-speaking.  It is in fact located on a flank of Pacific Heights which borders Japantown and the Korean community.

Geraniums going abloom in mid-January.  Says the chalkboard in a San Francisco Bar: "If you live in San Francisco, don't forget to remember how lucky you are."

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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.