Minneapolis Star and Tribune Article
Published: March 28, 1998
Section: NEWS
Page#: 06B A faith apart
By Martha Sawyer Allen; Staff Writer
The parishioners swear this is true: A cut rose lasted 3 1/2 months
in a vase on the altar at the Liberal Catholic Church of St. Francis
this spring.
"That's a pretty common time for flowers to last
here," said Richard Curney. And, indeed, flowers from services
of two weeks ago appeared fresh and vibrant on the altar of the
small church in south Minneapolis.
A spiritual energy flows in and around the little
congregation, its members say. They talk, with carefully chosen
words, about how during worship they feel the presence of those
who have gone before. They feel this is a holy place.
A statue of Buddha rests on a shelf near a statue of St. Francis
of Assisi and a statue of the crucified Jesus. All are symbols held
in reverence in this church.
But this is not a far-out, left-wing group of '60s
hippies blowing incense into the air. Although the church is filled
with the sweet smell of incense, outsiders might think they had
landed in the pre-Vatican II Roman Catholic Church.
The priest faces the altar, with his back to the parishioners. His
vestments are the traditional garb of the Roman Catholic church.
There is a kneeling rail for communion separating the worshipers
from the altar. Women cannot be ordained. The Tridentine mass, used
by the Roman Catholic Church for hundreds of years until it was
changed by the Vatican II Council in the early 1960s, is celebrated.
But the priest is a volunteer and can be married. When not in church,
Curney, a deacon who will be ordained in November, runs a sandwich
shop franchise operation and used to own a health-food store. The
Liberal Catholic Church is independent of the Roman Catholic Church.
Those who fit into the congregation are people with minds that "can
stretch around our religious conservatism and philosophical liberalism,"
Curney said.
The church's main doctrine is that it has none. Although it is a
Christian church, individuals are encouraged to pursue their own
spiritual paths. They believe that this is a place for those with
a mature faith, a faith that has been worked through, thought about,
wrestled with - not just something inherited from their parents
without question.
One thing most of them agree on is reincarnation. They believe that
it's a possibility and not in any conflict with Christian teachings.
Many members quote early Christian and Jewish mystics to prove their
theological points. Some have come from New Age churches and others
have wrestled with the precepts of Eastern mysticism.
Recently, the congregation's beloved pastor, the Rev. Craig Shurr,
died. After the funeral, Barbara Lee, a member, sat alone in the
church. "I felt a real peace," she said. "I felt
he was happy where he was." She says she feels a deep connection
with those who have died. "There's a lot of spiritual presence
in this church."
Reincarnation is the belief that souls move from body to body through
various lives until perfection has been reached. It is at variance
with fundamental Christian teaching of the resurrection of the body
and soul.
All of that doesn't bother Lee, who was raised as a Methodist, became
a Roman Catholic and now is a member of the Liberal Catholic Church.
"It's instinct more than anything," she said. Reincarnation
"is the only thing that made sense to me."
Liberal Catholic leaders say that reincarnation fits with teachings
in the first 300 years of the church.
There are only 40 members in this congregation, and only 2,800 in
the United States. Curney said he believes that the numbers are
small because the clergy is made up of volunteers and they don't
spend lots of time building up churches or proselytizing. He had
decided earlier not to become a priest, but when Shurr died, he
changed his mind because he feared the church might close.
Members say that many people come to the church thinking they'll
find New Age worshipers with unconventional services, but turn away
when they find conservative church practices. Others come to them
expecting to find the "old" Catholic church, but flee
when they get past the ceremony and find unorthodox beliefs.
But that doesn't bother the members. They speak affectionately of
the love and friendship they find in their group. They think of
it as a family.
"We all have favorite places where we like to sit," said
Pilar Rodriguez. "I like to sit behind Monica's sister, Peggy,
because that's where the sun comes in. We're not many people but
we sound like more when we sing."
They also speak frequently of the early Christian church and the
mystics, whose teachings were disavowed by the Roman Catholic church
centuries ago in many cases.
The church is a "vehicle to bring a spiritual energy into the
world," said Wallace Zick. "Here you're obligated to study
any idea. The whole idea of the church is (individual) spiritual
growth."
"There's an interesting energy field here," said Sue Knips.
"You go beyond yourself and get lost like you've never felt
before. There's a high-Catholic feel here, but I feel free to be
who I am. It's a bit of a paradox. . . . It seems like a holy place."
The church, at 3201 Pleasant Av. S., is an outgrowth of a breakaway
movement in the Netherlands. It was formed in England in 1916 and
retains its international offices there. It claims to have apostolic
succession from Jesus through the original popes in Rome.
Still, the Minneapolis congregation is not afraid of challenging
the denomination's structure. Parishioners wrote to the 33 other
parishes nationally this year, seeking support for the ordination
of women. The last synod of bishops discussed the issue but took
no action.
When the U.S. bishop visited the church recently, parishioners questioned
him again about women clergy. They said he was overwhelmingly in
favor of ordination, but they don't know when it will come. The
parishioners say they're sticking with their small church because
they don't want to desert a good thing just because they don't agree
with everything about it. "That would be like throwing the
baby out with the bath water," Zick said.
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