The Men's Club

01.03.2008

I remember 1978 as the year of the three Popes. Pope Paul VI died and was succeeded by Pope John Paul I who died unexpectedly after only one month in office. Then the long Pontificate of the late Pope John Paul II began. I also remember 1978 for a different and more personal reason.

I was in my fourth year as pastor of the parish of Hwa Yang Dong in Seoul, South Korea. It was a fast- growing parish where our parish plant had already become inadequate for our needs. It had been an old factory where glass was manufactured. We used the main building as a church, the office as a presbytery, and a store room as a convent. The main building could seat only 300 people. The walls were cracked, the ceiling was low, the tiled roof was too heavy and in danger of falling in.

After much discussion we decided that we would tear down the old buildings and build a brand new parish plant. By Easter in 1978, all the necessary preparations were made and the wrecking crew was on its way. It was time for our last scheduled Mass in the old church.

Before Mass began, the Church was full and a distinct air of excitement was in the air. I proceeded with Mass in the usual manner. Only at the words of consecration did the enormity of what we were about to do strike home to me. Here I was uttering the words of consecration for the last time from this altar, in this church.

Within the hour, the altar, the tabernacle, the large crucifix, the statue of Our Lady and the pews would be gone from this church. Before evening came, the church might be gone.

As I proceeded with Mass I became more and more distracted. My mind wandered back to the day I arrived and the formal reception given to me by the parishioners. I remembered the Christmases, holy days, sundays and weekdays we had celebrated there.

I thought of all who were baptised, made their first communion and were confirmed here.

I thought about the weddings, the funerals and the thousands of confessions. Twice the church had been used by newly-ordained priests as the venue for their first Mass.

I remembered all the good times- this church was a friendly place. Thousands of people had come here in prayer to meet Jesus and they had met Him. He gave them words of hope and consolation right here. And now we were about to tear it down.

While distributing communion I noticed a lot of people with tears streaming down their cheeks; I knew they were feeling the same emotion as myself. After communion, during a moment of reflection, I could hear sniffles coming from the congregation. I decided to move quickly. I stood up to read the final prayer, but to my horror, my voice broke with emotion. I came to the end of the prayer and with a big effort I was able to say, "The Lord be with you."

After that I could say nothing more.

I could not raise my hand or utter the final blessing. After a short hesitation I just bowed to the people and quickly walked to the sacristy. For the next 10 minutes everybody cried.

Knocking down the old church was something we had planned and even looked forward to. But when the moment of truth arrived we were unprepared for the sadness, emotion and pain that welled up within us. Thirty years later I still remember.

Fr Thomas Cleary is presently at St Columban's, Essendon.

Read more from The Far East March, 2008