I began the day with a 6am Rorate Caeli, the traditional Advent sung Mass of Our Lady, with the altar illuminated by a hundred candles. I couldn’t see the hundred pilgrims in our dark and cavernous church behind me, but at Holy Communion a second priest appeared from the shadows to help administer the Sacrament. God sends assistance when and where it is needed, often without prior notification, and that has certainly proved true for our parish school.
By 8:30am, our school choir was preparing for the next Mass with Hassler’s Dixit Maria. I could hardly believe our rag-tag second and third graders could deliver one of the world’s apogees of Christian beauty with such precision! I wondered if I were in heaven or on earth.
Hassler put to music the words of Luke 1:28: “The Angel said unto Mary, behold….” And Mary said unto the Angel, “let it be done unto me according to every word God has spoken.” Christmas is the annual remembrance of that moment in history, when God stepped into time at the invitation of a maiden from Nazareth. Thus did Mary conceive a child and, after some months, bring Him into our world.
On Wednesday night our two classical schools—primary and secondary—sang their annual Christmas concert. Again, one can scarcely believe that poor children from the barrios can deliver the best classical music to our little school stage. The preschoolers, however, with their somewhat off-key lisping’s, legs and arms twittering about, got the most robust cheers for their guileless enthusiasm over the baby Jesus. The school Christmas concert must be the most delightful hour of the entire parish year, attended tearfully by atheists and believers alike, captivated by the gift of their own children.
Seven years ago my parish school closed, as have not a few in San Francisco over the years. I had to decide whether to let the school remain closed or try to restart it with a new vision. To reopen the school, after the trauma of its closure, would cost unknown hours of planning, marketing, and hiring, not to mention several construction jobs. It would cause me and others many sleepless nights and associated health problems. It would cost the parish, and ourselves personally, millions of dollars. I had to decide whether a Catholic school was worth all of that, and whether I was able to make a parochial school the single most important work of my parish. My closest advisor argued against it, saying simply “can any pastor or parish be expected to put this much into a project that will mostly benefit people from outside of the parish?” I began to think of the parish school as a missionary project, not unlike drilling a well in Burundi or building a road in Patagonia. Yes, I decided, my parish had the resources and inspiration to build a classical Catholic school in San Francisco.
By God’s grace, Stella Maris Academy is flourishing in its fifth year, but really, in its 116th year. When Fr. O’Ryan (from County Tipperary) opened Star of the Sea School in January of 1909, he was so discouraged by the initial enrollment (50 students) that he almost left the parish to become a miliary chaplain. But some convinced him to stay the course, just as some convinced me seven years ago to restart the school in 2021 with fifty-four students. Both Father O’Ryan and I have come to see that a Catholic school, after the sacraments themselves, is the parish’s most important apostolate. After teaching my first theology class on Wednesday to the seventh and eighth graders, I felt so elated that I wanted to leave the parish and become a teacher! But, of course, it is precisely in this parish that this school flourishes.
The patron saint of priests opened a boarding school for poor girls in his parish, which he called La Providence. St. John Vianney had not the necessary funds, but he trusted in God’s providence and named his school accordingly. That has been my experience as well: God has provided the money and energy to continue Fr. O’Ryan’s original inspiration (he opened Star of the Sea School within eight months of his arrival in 1908). The parochial school is simply the best project a parish can accomplish, the joy of its priests and parents, and we should not give up on our Catholic schools.
By 8:30am, our school choir was preparing for the next Mass with Hassler’s Dixit Maria. I could hardly believe our rag-tag second and third graders could deliver one of the world’s apogees of Christian beauty with such precision! I wondered if I were in heaven or on earth.
Hassler put to music the words of Luke 1:28: “The Angel said unto Mary, behold….” And Mary said unto the Angel, “let it be done unto me according to every word God has spoken.” Christmas is the annual remembrance of that moment in history, when God stepped into time at the invitation of a maiden from Nazareth. Thus did Mary conceive a child and, after some months, bring Him into our world.
On Wednesday night our two classical schools—primary and secondary—sang their annual Christmas concert. Again, one can scarcely believe that poor children from the barrios can deliver the best classical music to our little school stage. The preschoolers, however, with their somewhat off-key lisping’s, legs and arms twittering about, got the most robust cheers for their guileless enthusiasm over the baby Jesus. The school Christmas concert must be the most delightful hour of the entire parish year, attended tearfully by atheists and believers alike, captivated by the gift of their own children.
Seven years ago my parish school closed, as have not a few in San Francisco over the years. I had to decide whether to let the school remain closed or try to restart it with a new vision. To reopen the school, after the trauma of its closure, would cost unknown hours of planning, marketing, and hiring, not to mention several construction jobs. It would cause me and others many sleepless nights and associated health problems. It would cost the parish, and ourselves personally, millions of dollars. I had to decide whether a Catholic school was worth all of that, and whether I was able to make a parochial school the single most important work of my parish. My closest advisor argued against it, saying simply “can any pastor or parish be expected to put this much into a project that will mostly benefit people from outside of the parish?” I began to think of the parish school as a missionary project, not unlike drilling a well in Burundi or building a road in Patagonia. Yes, I decided, my parish had the resources and inspiration to build a classical Catholic school in San Francisco.
By God’s grace, Stella Maris Academy is flourishing in its fifth year, but really, in its 116th year. When Fr. O’Ryan (from County Tipperary) opened Star of the Sea School in January of 1909, he was so discouraged by the initial enrollment (50 students) that he almost left the parish to become a miliary chaplain. But some convinced him to stay the course, just as some convinced me seven years ago to restart the school in 2021 with fifty-four students. Both Father O’Ryan and I have come to see that a Catholic school, after the sacraments themselves, is the parish’s most important apostolate. After teaching my first theology class on Wednesday to the seventh and eighth graders, I felt so elated that I wanted to leave the parish and become a teacher! But, of course, it is precisely in this parish that this school flourishes.
The patron saint of priests opened a boarding school for poor girls in his parish, which he called La Providence. St. John Vianney had not the necessary funds, but he trusted in God’s providence and named his school accordingly. That has been my experience as well: God has provided the money and energy to continue Fr. O’Ryan’s original inspiration (he opened Star of the Sea School within eight months of his arrival in 1908). The parochial school is simply the best project a parish can accomplish, the joy of its priests and parents, and we should not give up on our Catholic schools.
Our preschoolers in this year's All Saints Pageant
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