for PAX’s 35th Anniversary, 2004
PAX HISTORY PART 1 – “THE WESTGATE EXPERIMENT”
The group we now know as PAX emerged in early 1969 in response to the challenges issued by the Second Vatican Council (1963 to 1965).
Among other imperatives, Vatican II called for a radically different approach to the Liturgy. The Council argued that, by reason of our baptism, we are called to be a “royal priesthood” – active participants in the liturgy. As Joan Urbanczyk recalls, “Catholics were charged with testing the true meaning of ‘Church’, not as a physical structure, but as ‘Community’.”
By 1969, changes to the liturgy had taken hold, but not uniformly, and not without resistance. Enlightened bishops and pastors were searching for ways to enrich the liturgy with more and more wholehearted involvement by the people.
At the time, St. Luke’s parish in McLean, VA was blessed with an open-minded pastor – Father Al Pereira – and with progressive parish priests and staff. Sensing a growing desire by some parishioners for a more meaningful faith life, Father Pereira challenged a group of leaders at St. Luke’s to try something new – to experiment with the liturgy and to push the boundaries of what it means to be active Christians.
In January 1969, St. Luke’s Director of Religious Education, Carol Sheldon, suggested a starting point : Organize a small group of parishioners who the pastor and staff knew were ready for a fuller commitment, and then try to make it spread within the parish. As Father Pereira recalled years later, “We came up with a list of some 15-20 names, discussed them, added some, crossed out some, then decided those we selected could invite others.” The initial group of approximately 40 adults and 40 children was to begin “experimenting” the first Sunday of Lent.
The group met for the first time at Tyson’s Corner Town Hall to celebrate mass with Father Pereira. It became apparent right away that the space would not be adequate, and the group soon moved to rented space at Westgate Elementary School. From that point, the group became known as “The Westgate Experiment.”
Despite a backdrop of conflict – turmoil over the Vietnam War, fresh memories of the bitter 1968 presidential election, and a widely known church-laity conflict in the District of Columbia – the St. Luke’s group was decidedly non-political. The prospectus for the early group described it simply as “a group of St. Luke’s parishioners seeking to find ways to make the liturgical experience more meaningful to the participants . . . “
The group’s desire to operate within the parish set it apart from two other experimental groups that had already formed in the area: “The People” a group of liberal, politically-active Catholics in D.C. who had been in conflict for several years with the archdiocese (and whose celebrations had been banned by the archbishop), and its equally dissident Northern Virginia offshoot – “Concerned Christians” – which later became known as NOVA.
In contrast, the St. Luke’s group was described by Buck Hennigan, one of the original members, as “one of the few experiments initiated by a positively-oriented ‘in’ group instead of by an ‘out’ group fighting the structure of the Church.” Indeed, the original members of the Westgate group were already active leaders in the St. Luke’s community, who saw the experiment as the next step in their commitment to the parish. The desire to serve as “leaven within the parish” remained a key element of the PAX community for many years.
The St. Luke’s liturgical experiment was meant to be different and innovative, to involve members in the planning and conduct of mass in a personal way. The initial focus was on liturgical planning and worship, and the ways in which participation in liturgy might transform the individual. Certain key elements of the celebration, many of which remain today, took root from the very beginning:
- Individualized, detailed and thematic Mass sheets;
- Seasonal planning performed jointly by members and the celebrant;
- Dialogue homilies that addressed the entire spectrum of the issues of the day;
- Children’s liturgy tailored to individual age groups;
- Prayers of the Faithful by everyone;
- Communion taken in the hand and under both species;
- Heavy involvement of women in the liturgy.
The Westgate Experiment continued through June 1969, and the experience proved to be deeply satisfying to the members. Many felt for the first time a real sense of Christian Community. In an April 1969 evaluation, one member of the group noted the “deepening awareness and understanding of the Eucharistic celebration as central to the spiritual life of the individual, family and community.” It appeared that the group’s original concept had legs . . .
With much excitement and a great sense of hope, the Westgate liturgical group suspended celebrations for the summer, with plans to resume “The Experiment” in the fall of 1969.
Some Original PAX Members:
- Carl and Elise Siebentritt
- John and Anne Duncan
- Harry and Betsy Schnibbe
- Bob and Marjorie Coates
- Buck and Alice Hennigan
- Bob and Nancy MacIntosh
- Mark and Carol Banfield
- Lou and Joan Urbanczyk
- Dave and Judy Grissmer
- Fred and Margaret Schellenberg
- Paul and Diana Keenan
PART 2: THE BIRTH OF “PAX” AND THE GROWTH OF A SPECIAL COMMUNITY
The Parish Center
After a summer’s respite, the Westgate group reconvened in the fall of 1969 to continue the liturgical experiment started the previous spring. As with most start-up ventures, energy and enthusiasm abounded. St. Luke’s pastor, Father Pereira, was anxious to continue the experiment, and granted the group permission to use the parish center for its worship and activities. The Community flourished as an extra Liturgy outside the general parish mass schedule.
Early PAX members recall that the parish center doors were left unlocked at all times, and members were free to come and go as they pleased. The PAX 20-year history document reflected on the early days: “The parish center abounded with diverse activity . . . The priests’ living room, dining room and kitchen were ours for the asking. The priest-celebrants – Al Pereira, Mike Hanna, Fred Feusahrens, Don Howard, to mention only a few from this period – were wholeheartedly committed with us . . . With little to worry about in the way of logistics, the energy of its members could be fully committed to the liturgical experiment. Mass planning was comprehensive and deep . . . the early theme sheets reflect an engagement with the message of the Scriptures.”
In the early days, the Community abounded with children. According to PAX historical documents, during the time the Community worshipped in the parish center (1969-1971), children made up two-third of its membership. Therefore, an early emphasis of the Community was to make the liturgy more meaningful for children as well as their parents. A children’s liturgy program was developed to allow the young ones to share in a Liturgy of the Word appropriate to their age group, apart from the regular adult liturgy.
The children’s liturgy program required an enormous commitment from the couples involved. The children were divided into groups – ages 3-5, grades 1-3, and grades 4-6 – and each group required its own preparation and direction. While the adult liturgy took place in the parish center chapel, the children’s liturgies were conducted simultaneously in various spaces elsewhere in the center. All would come together for the Liturgy of the Eucharist, usually preceded by a procession of the children to join their Community.
Building Community
During the fall of 1969, the temporarily-named “St. Luke’s Liturgical Group” was bustling with activity. In addition to the greater tasks of planning and evaluating the liturgies and dialogue homilies, establishing a leadership structure and committees to handle various functions, and liaising with the St. Luke’s parish, there were many small but necessary tasks. These included making name tags, organizing refreshments for after mass, creating a phone chain, writing newsletters, arranging babysitting for infants and toddlers during mass, etc. During that period, there was ongoing discussion of the need for a permanent name for the Community. Throughout the fall and winter, notices asking for name suggestions were printed in the newsletter and posted on the parish center bulletin board. In the spring of 1970, the Community adopted PAX (Pilgrims After Christ) as its official name.
The focus was heavily on the Liturgy, but from the very beginning there was an emphasis on development of community, and efforts were made to get to know all the PAX members. Nearly everyone stayed for coffee and refreshments after the mass. PAX members also reached out to the parish at large, issuing invitations in St. Luke’s parish bulletin for others to join in their effort to deepen an awareness and understanding of the Eucharistic celebration.
Besides getting to know each other through worship and related activities, the PAX members started coming together for social gatherings. On January 25, 1970, members gathered at the Siebentritt’s home for the first “pitch in” dinner, which was the forerunner of many pot luck gatherings. Other social activities included picnics, Easter egg hunts, baptisms, First Communions and weddings.
Spring of 1973 found the Community acting as “family” for Rosa Venegas, as she prepared for her marriage to Ben Scott. Since Rosa’s family lived outside the United States, PAX members became her surrogate family. They helped to plan all parts of the wedding including bridal showers, photographs, and the reception. On April 7, 1973, PAX rejoiced with Ben and Rosa at an ecumenical liturgy celebrated by Father McClosky and Reverend Smith. These gatherings all served to widen and deepen the friendships and fellowship within the PAX community.
At the same time, the PAX Community’s link to the general parish remained strong, and an important part of the group’s formative years. During the early 1970’s, most of the major activities at St. Luke’s involved PAX people, and PAX members continued in leadership roles in the parish. At one point, 40% of the parish board were members of PAX. The co-chairpersons of St. Luke’s religious education program were from PAX, as was the chairman of the parish school board. St. Luke’s social action committee, first named Community Concern and later renamed Human Development and Justice, was always headed by a PAX member. And the parish Liturgy Committee was predominantly composed of PAX members. All the while, Father Pereira continued to view PAX as the vehicle by which to lead the rest of the parish to a more meaningful liturgical experience and faith-life.
Growth
PAX membership grew rapidly. By Spring of 1971 there were 167 PAX members – 26 couples, 10 single persons, 105 children – plus 9-10 alumni. PAX soon needed more room to celebrate the liturgy. This dilemma, coupled with the pastor’s desire for PAX to inspire and lead the greater parish community, led Father Pereira in the spring of 1971 to request that PAX take on responsibility for the parish 9 a.m. Mass. This would require a move to the main church building.
There were some misgivings within PAX about this proposal. Some members were concerned about whether the intimacy which made PAX so unique could work in a much larger physical structure. They also worried whether or not PAX could truly “leaven” the general parish community from within a larger congregation. On the other hand, the larger space might allow for wider experimentation with the liturgy, such as more expansive physical expressions of prayer and praise, liturgical dance, use of banners, etc. So, after several months of planning and with fingers crossed, the PAX community celebrated its first mass in the main church building on September 19, 1971. This move would mark the start of a new phase in the history of this very special community.
PART 3: SOCIAL OUTREACH AND THE SEEDS OF CONFLICT WITH ST. LUKE’S
Celebrating in the Main Parish Church
After PAX moved its liturgical celebrations from the St. Luke’s parish center to the main church in September 1971, it didn’t take long for the symptoms of incompatibility to appear.
PAX members quickly became frustrated at both the time and space constraints placed upon its 9:00 a.m. Sunday liturgy. Rooms in the adjoining school were unavailable to PAX because the parish used that space for its Sunday morning religious education program. As a result, PAX was unable to continue the practice of sharing refreshments and extended discussions after mass, and the PAX children’s liturgy had to be discontinued due to the lack of separate but proximate facilities where children’s liturgies could be held simultaneous to the adult liturgy.
Spatial issues also proved to have a significant effect on the PAX liturgical celebrations. The acoustics in the main church were bad, gathering around the altar was awkward, and the dialogue homily lost much of its spontaneity. A critical event came when the doors that divided the church space from the gymnasium were opened permanently. The result was a drastic disjuncture in the spatial relationship and a palpable further loss of intimacy and warmth. Mass attendees were now able to sit out the service in the rearmost sections of seats, adding a physical separation to the intangible division between those actively participating in the liturgy, and those present but not wishing to fully engage in the service.
The liturgy itself best resisted the changed atmosphere. Some of the most enlightened and meaningful liturgies in PAX’s history occurred during this period; among them a memorable series on women, on Christian ethics in the marketplace, and on the political Christian, as well as some creative children’s liturgies celebrated by associate pastor Father Hortum.
Emergence of Social Consciousness
Participation in liturgies that were focused on living Christianity, and immersion in Mass planning where the Scriptures were read and examined from many angles to see how they applied to daily life, eventually had the effect that the apostles preached: PAX members were being transformed. Gradually they began to feel moved to reach out and help those in need.
One of the earliest examples of outreach by PAX was to one of its own – Betsy Schnibbe, a founding member of PAX and the Community’s first treasurer – as she struggled with diabetes during the early and mid-1970’s. Initially, PAX members offered help to the Schnibbe family in the form of driving, shopping and preparing occasional meals. Then, as Betsy’s condition worsened, a core group of about a dozen women from PAX organized a schedule to provide round-the-clock assistance – including feeding, bathing, giving injections, and other forms of support – which they continued throughout the 18 months leading up to her death in 1975.
Gradually, PAX members began to focus on broader social issues outside the Community and the general parish. PAX members became heavily involved with Network, the Center for Concern, S.O.M.E., and Zacchaeus. Joan Urbanczyk, Marie Grosso, and Margaret Schellenberg formed an organization called the Center for New Creation and began to develop programs and activities and to participate in actions which they saw as truly living out the Christian faith.
PAX’s increasing reliance on outside celebrants during the 1970’s played an important role in the sharpening social conscience of the Community. In the early years, celebrants were mainly St. Luke’s parish priests. But as the parish grew and its priests became increasingly busy, PAX came to rely more and more on outside celebrants. Presiders were tapped from the Theological Union, Georgetown and Catholic Universities, the Glenmarys, Missionhurst, Catholic high schools in the area, and the many national and international Catholic organizations headquartered in the Washington D.C. area. These celebrants helped to generate awareness of contemporary issues and trends in the Church, and shared the insights that they had developed from involvement in their specialized fields.
In 1974 the PAX Steering Committee prepared a “White Paper on Social Justice Program” which recommended that social justice become an integral part of the PAX community. The community adopted the proposal soon thereafter. Three years later, the Community decided to shift from requiring yearly “dues” to asking individuals to respond from time to time as needs arise, to avoid accumulation of money, and to maintain a spirit of poverty.
This attitude of Christian sharing of resources was reflected in 1978 when Myrtle Hendricks, a PAX member on the St. Luke’s board and chairwoman of the Human Development and Justice Committee, led the parish board to charter a study of parish help for others. The study, directed by a PAX member, led to the St. Luke’s Outreach program, by which 5% of the parish Sunday collection was earmarked for needs outside the parish.
PAX continued through the years to struggle with whether it should support individuals in their actions, or engage in social action as a community. The Community determined that it should not be wed to specific causes but would continue to support individual efforts and specific needs as they arose, a position it maintains to this day.
Tensions with St. Luke’s Parish
Almost from the beginning, some member of the St. Luke’s general parish expressed concern about certain elements of the PAX liturgy – communion-in-the-hand, dialogue homilies, and involvement by women as readers and communion distributors. Parish pressure on PAX to begin its Sunday morning service on time and to contain its length contributed to a low-grade but nagging sense of discord between PAX and the parish.
Nevertheless, during the 1970’s, the PAX community continued its efforts on behalf of the parish by assisting with the planning of major liturgies such as the Easter Vigil and participating in leadership roles on the parish board and committees. But as individuals, chiefly PAX women, began turning outward to address concerns of poverty, the arms race, defense spending, the Vietnam War, and other topics of the day, they increasingly felt compelled to reflect those wider concerns in the liturgy. Contemporary readings were sometimes added to assist with the development of those themes, a practice which was not wholly supported by members of the general parish.
According to the PAX 20-year history document, a powerful moment came in a mid-1970’s liturgy when the U.S. had left Vietnam and many young men who had gone to Canada to avoid the draft were seeking to return home. In a dialogue homily, the wife of a naval officer stood up, and with tears on her face and a shaking voice referred to the gospel of the day. She said that as believing Christians we should listen to the parable of the prodigal son and welcome back the boys who had been lost when they went to Canada. Positions such as these were considered somewhat radical by some members of the larger parish, adding further strain to the PAX-St.Luke’s relationship.
Looking back, not everyone sees the friction with the parish as a negative thing. According to Judy Grissmer, who was an early PAX member and remains an active member of the Community today, “there was always tension between the more traditional and the more progressive elements, but mostly it was a creative tension.” She concedes, however, that as PAX grew and evolved during its first decade, the politics of maintaining smooth relations between PAX and St. Luke’s began to take up an inordinate amount of energy.
Soon, structural and personnel changes within the diocese, as well as two significant events at the parish, would lead to outright conflict between PAX and St. Luke’s, and put PAX in a struggle for its very survival.
PART 4: TIMES OF TURMOIL: PAX STRUGGLES FOR ITS SURVIVAL
Growing Conflict with the Parish
Throughout the early and mid-1970’s, St. Luke’s pastor, Fr. Al Pereira, continued to be totally supportive of the PAX community within the parish. During that time, PAX thrived as a unique community of faithful, devoted to celebrating meaningful liturgy, living the message of the gospels in their everyday lives, providing active leadership in St. Luke’s, and engaging in social outreach outside the parish. As the 20-year history document recalls of that period, “the PAX liturgical focus had consistently produced a celebration worthy of its name, a liturgy that reflected the involvement of the people with the celebrant, that addressed the spiritual, ethical and social issues of the weekday lives of its members, a liturgy that touched the spirit of its congregation.”
However, two events occurred in the mid-1970’s in which the values and goals of PAX appeared to be in conflict with the general parish. In the first instance, the parish board called a general meeting to address the financing of St. Luke’s elementary school. Like most such schools, the general parish had to subsidize the school heavily. The purpose of the meeting was to determine if the subsidy should continue or the school should be closed.
Throughout the long meeting, most speakers supported funding the school. However, a small number of speakers opposed funding the school, primarily on the basis that the funds should be spent where the need was greater – on the poor in the District of Columbia and on the needy elsewhere in the world. Some of the opponents argued that if the school were to remain open and subsidized, the relatively well-off St. Luke’s parishioners should pay their children’s way in full. These speakers noted that if the parishioners chose not to pay, their alternative, the Fairfax County public school system was quite good. The subsidized spaces at St. Luke’s school should be allocated to the poor, particularly poor blacks in D.C., whose neighborhood schools were substandard.
While supporters of the school funding included many PAX members, many in St. Luke’s were quick to point out that all of the opponents (except for one) were members of PAX. The lessons of the liturgies had led the PAX opponents to identify publicly what they saw as a misallocation of resources, failing to be a good steward.
A second event that brought PAX into conflict with the general parish was the parish decision to build a new church. In this instance, the funding campaign was led by a PAX member, and many of the neighborhood fundraisers were members of PAX. Some members of PAX supported building a new church. However, many did not. Twelve PAX members felt called upon to put an insert into a Sunday bulletin distributed at all masses in which they sorrowfully protested the use of so large amount of money for a physical structure, while so many people were needy. Clearly, years of liturgical formation had shaped the social conscience of these individuals.
New Bishop, New Pastor
By the middle of the decade, significant changes to the diocese and parish occurred that would affect PAX in a profound way. In the summer of 1974, the Catholic Diocese of Richmond was split in two when the Diocese of Arlington was formed. The Rev. Thomas J. Welch was installed as the founding bishop of the newly formed diocese.
The result of the diocesan split was a reshuffling of personnel. Most of the progressive priests were relocated to the Richmond diocese, and a new wave of conservative priests was moved into the new diocese. Also during this time, a new pastor, Father Jack Hughes, was installed at St. Luke’s.
The first conflict with the new church leadership arose in early 1976 when Bishop Welch banned the practice of communion-in-the-hand – the norm at PAX masses. A group of PAX members met with the bishop to urge him to reconsider his position. The bishop was gracious but refused to support the request. Father Hughes appealed to the bishop to allow PAX to continue the use of communion-in-hand, but again, the bishop refused.
At a tearful, tense, and lengthy meeting in the basement board room of the parish center, Father Hughes left it up to PAX to decide. He said he would not force PAX to change, but described some of the sanctions the bishop might impose. To keep from afflicting the parish, PAX agreed to stop using communion-in-the-hand during the parish masses.
It also soon became clear that the most that PAX could expect from the new pastor would be tolerance. Except for one emergency appearance, he was never to celebrate a Sunday liturgy with the PAX community. PAX was continually exhorted to speed up its liturgy so as to clear the parking lot for the 10:30 parish mass. The parish center’s living spaces were put off bounds, forcing use of the board room and downstairs office spaces for meetings, para-liturgies and other gatherings. Even that was dampened as the center’s doors were locked earlier and earlier. The front doorbell was answered reluctantly.
Joan Urbanczyk recalls inviting the new pastor and a group of PAX members to meet at the Urbanczyk home to get to know one another. “All night we talked about what we had learned, what we’d like to do for the parish, and so on. At the end of the evening, Carol Banfield suggested that we all hold hands and pray the Our Father together. Then one PAX member turned to Father Hughes and said ‘We’ve all been talking, now tell us, what would you like us to do?’ He responded with one word: ‘Disband.’”
Outright Opposition from St. Luke’s
Starting about 1979, whether from personal conviction or because of pressure from parishioners who for one reason or another considered the PAX liturgy unacceptable, or the Community “elitist,” the pastor’s previous attitude of reluctant tolerance became one of outright opposition.
By early 1982, pressure to shift the PAX mass to a “non-prime time” slot increased, and other demands were being made of the Community – including that PAX stop gathering around the altar, reduce the length of time spent on the sign of peace, use no more than three celebrants a year from outside the parish, discontinue the practice of communion under both species, and not allow children to take up the Offertory collection. These demands went to the very heart of the PAX liturgy. As the demands were being debated, a great deal of the Community’s energy was being expended on the PAX-St. Luke’s relationship, to the detriment of the liturgical planning. Members tried talking to Father Hughes about the issues, but he wouldn’t budge. As offers to compromise seemed to be met only by further demands to gut its liturgy, PAX members began to worship elsewhere.
In the fall of 1982, PAX made one last valiant effort to make its liturgy work, at a new time, 6:30 p.m. on Saturday – the only time slot the pastor made available to PAX – and within the norms dictated by the pastor. However, many members concluded that the new mass time and the restrictions were designed to destroy the Community. The new time slot was difficult, particularly for small children. For these and other reasons, many PAX members began to worship elsewhere, and participation continued to drop. Nevertheless, a core group of the Community persisted in trying to prepare and celebrate meaningful liturgies.
In early 1983, the parish moved into the new St. Luke’s church. The new church was cold in appearance, with an unfriendly atmosphere. In addition, because of reductions in the building budget, acoustics were poor and the building acted as a large echo chamber. This created a major problem for people for whom mass participation had been more than that of being passive spectators. Regular PAX attendees dwindled to a handful. The Community was dying in its attempts to stay within the parish.
Despite this adversity, the PAX spirit survived in special liturgies. An annual Easter Sunrise Mass was held outdoors at Missionhurst, and the Christmas Eve family pageant was established. Today, these remain some of the most beloved occasions in the liturgical year. Other special holidays and events were celebrated in members’ homes. Members who stayed away from St. Luke’s often rejoined these special moments of fellowship.
PAX Ponders Its Future
During this difficult period, PAX members began to pray very hard for the wisdom to decide the next steps. They received much encouragement from their outside celebrants – in particular from Vince Cushing, Jim Hug and Joe Nangle, who urged “You must continue as a community.”
During early 1983, PAX members held a series of meetings was held to determine a course of action. Most attendees agreed that remaining a part of St. Luke’s parish was no longer a viable option. However, the Community made one last attempt via a formal request that the parish allowed PAX to return to its previous liturgical practices and give PAX a time to celebrate on Sunday mornings. The pastor was not receptive, and did not appear to be at all concerned that PAX was failing.
Much of the summer and fall of that year were spent in last ditch efforts to salvage the Community within St. Luke’s. PAX appealed to the newly appointed bishop, John Keating. But he ultimately ruled that the matter should be left to the pastor to decide. Consequently, in an October 1983 meeting, PAX decided to find worship space outside of St. Luke’s parish.
PART 5: THE SEPARATION FROM ST. LUKE’S
The Separation – A Time of Pain and Confusion
The decision to leave St. Luke’s was wrenching, as well as divisive, for the PAX members. Some were deeply hurt by the insensitivity of the pastor and vowed not to worship at St. Luke’s again. Some who chose to go with the PAX community viewed the rupture as temporary, and looked forward to PAX again celebrating at St. Luke’s. Some felt they could not leave the parish, so they ceased celebrating with the PAX Community. Still others, badly scarred by the experience, left both PAX and St. Luke’s.
There were also those who believed that PAX as a community could remain within the parish, and for a while it seemed possible that PAX would split into two distinct groups. Reflections from a journal by one PAX member at that time show the depth of one individual’s struggle, while also reflecting the larger collective quandary:
“A few ideas are coming clearer for me – that the community must respond somehow as community to those who for years have found that the parish was stifling. We have essentially told them that we hated to see them go but that the community was staying put – if only by its failure to reach a consensus to do anything else. For them there has been either a quiet, sometimes painful, drifting or walking away or a swallowing down of their concerns and a walking along with the community in patient waiting for a change of heart and mind. But we have not met their needs and because we cling to them so desperately it is our needs that we are serving. We must free them to move on, letting them go with a blessing, welcoming them back whenever, maintaining our links with them and waiting to see what will happen.
Perhaps the parish-based group will prove strongest, most committed and most able to endure because the practical necessities of a weekly liturgy . . . But maybe the reverse will be true – that those who strike out courageously into the unknown will create a new home that is more nurturing and that its appeal will be so strong that those whose fears are stopping them will finally be able to make the leap. Always they are asked where they will go but never have they been able to model a form that meets the demands of their imagination because they’ve been held back from doing anything to fragment the community.
But I do know that a group – or a home – that won’t let go becomes a smothering rather than a liberating force in people’s lives. Letting go when people are ready to go is still for me among the hardest things to do. Throughout all this, I’ve used “they” and I’m not sure but that I’m one of “they” . . . . Anyway since it doesn’t seem likely that anytime soon we’ll all be of one mind and be able to act together, we must stop trying to fit everyone into one mold or another. Someone said that those who leave will never come back, but if that’s so won’t it mean that they will have found something better? . . . Anyway, it seems to me that we have to decide and move on.”
“Out in the Desert”
In November 1983, the PAX Community was incorporated under the laws of the Commonwealth of Virginia as a not-for-profit organization. On the feast of Christ the King, PAX celebrated its first liturgy at its new location, Franklin Sherman School in McLean. The Mass was celebrated by Jim Hug, S.J., who also had celebrated the last PAX Mass at St. Luke’s. This provided a sense of continuity during this very difficult time.
The loss of fellowship of friends and of their parish home deepened the sadness for those who chose to undertake this “pilgrimage”. Adding to the emotional toll created by the separation were the logistical demands of the now-independent community, which were enormous. For the first time, members had to take care of all the preparations for the liturgies, including Mass linens, vestments, bread, and wine. Moreover, worshipping in the school’s all-purpose room, with its hot dogs and pandas-and-bamboo murals on the walls – a distinctly unliturgical setting – required that much greater attention be paid to liturgical design. As one early PAX member recalls “We had no altar, no church, no pews, no rail for communion . . . We were really out in the desert . . . “
The duties of the treasurer increased substantially because large amounts of money had to be collected to pay the rent. Members gave sizable donations to the Community, but the funds had to be used to support the basic needs of the group: rent, stipends to celebrants and the like. Members found after the split that on the one hand, there was more freedom to experiment, to express oneself without the strictures of parish rules. However, that freedom was tempered in part by the additional work that comes from the lack of administrative support from a parish.
After the separation, PAX members worked hard to stay close to one another. Many of the activities that started within St. Luke’s continued after the separation, including the traditional Epiphany and Mardi Gras parties and at least one family picnic during the summer.
The liturgical format and norms were returned to the pre-1982 model. Some individuals who had left the Community immediately returned, and new families appeared almost every week. The sense of camaraderie deepened, as it often does among those who find themselves in a collective state of displacement.
Lingering Ties, Lingering Hopes
PAX made it clear to its members and to those outside PAX that although the circumstances forced PAX to celebrate its liturgies outside the parish, PAX members had not withdrawn from the parish in which they were registered members. Many kept their St. Luke’s roles as lectors, committee members, Eucharistic ministers, and financial supporters (although the pastor later withdrew these opportunities one by one).
A new pastor was appointed to St. Luke’s in the summer of 1984. The new pastor was approached in late 1985 by representatives of those PAX members who wished to return to St. Luke’s. In March 1986, the pastor celebrated a PAX liturgy at the home of George and Diane Stevens, and then participated in a long and frank discussion. The gist of his message was that he would welcome any and all PAX members into his parish as individuals. However, he could not accept PAX as a community. This exchange made it clear once and for all that PAX would have to provide for its spiritual needs on its own.
And so it has . . .
PART 6: THE LATER YEARS
Settling Down
PAX worshipped in the cafeteria at Franklin Sherman School in McLean after the separation from St. Luke’s parish. Early PAX member Mariano Gowland remembers this as a time of “settling down” after the protracted, emotional upheaval of the St. Luke’s experience – a time of “getting back on our feet.”
Myrtle Hendricks recalls that being an independent worship community required much more energy than being parish-based. But what she remembers as most significant about that time was that “even though we had to be focused on facilities, the outreach did not stop. We didn’t lose the vision of a world of peace and justice. During a time we could have been very inner-directed, we weren’t.” In fact, despite the separation from St. Luke’s and its destabilizing aftershocks, or perhaps because of it, the years that followed were marked by a dramatic recommitment to the social outreach and activism in which many PAX members already had been engaged.
Political and Social Activism
In March 1986 the Community approved support for the formation of Mission Groups as “a means for PAX members to strengthen both their ministry to those in need and their prayer and community life.” The first to be established was the Central American Mission Group, whose founders included Myrtle Hendricks, Marilu MacCarthy, Elise and Carl Siebentritt, Dan and Sarah Mulholland, Mike and Amanda Messinger, and Elaine O’Regan. This group was charged with educating the PAX community on issues of concern in Central America, placing particular emphasis on the civil war that was raging in El Salvador and related U.S. government policies. One of the group’s accomplishments was to establish a relationship between PAX and the Santa Marta Community in El Salvador. Over many years PAX exchanged prayers, letters and pictures with its sister community, and provided financial support through individual donations collected by the Mission Group. When 4,000 Salvadorans who had been living in the overcrowded Mesa Grande refugee camp in Honduras for seven years wished to return to their native country, Father Joe Nangle traveled to Honduras, held Mass in the camp and accompanied the refugees to the Salvadoran border.
Around the same time, Myrtle Hendricks and other PAX members were busy founding Rachel’s Women’s Center, a day sanctuary for homeless women in D.C. Myrtle recalls the struggling early days of the center, and the Sunday when she asked PAX members for financial help to keep the center afloat: “I walked out of there with $2,000, which helped pay the rent for 2 ½ months and kept us going” until Rachel’s received a large grant from Catholic Charities.
In 1986, Dr. Charles Schehl informed PAX members about one of his patients – Emma Shirley – who was in trouble and needed help. Emma was an elderly woman who could neither read nor write. She lived on $245/month plus food stamps, and faced eviction from the one-room apartment in which she had lived most of her life because she could no longer pay the rent. A group of PAX members responded, contributing funds to pay Emma’s rent and even taking care of her dog and pet bird. This support continued for four years, until Emma passed away.
Joe Nangle was the driving force behind much of the political and social activism of PAX members during that time. Having been a missionary in Peru for 27 years, Joe understood first-hand the needs and struggles of the poor and the disadvantaged. His passion for peace and justice served as a constant call to action which infected and inspired the entire Community.
The Center for New Creation – founded by Joan Urbanczyk, Margaret Schellenberg and Marie Grosso – also drove much of the activism during that time. In 1985 this group organized the Ribbon Around The Pentagon – an area-wide movement by people of all faiths from some 40-50 churches – to protest nuclear proliferation. Carl Siebentritt recalls how inspired he was to be standing shoulder-to-shoulder with thousands of like-minded citizens holding flags and ribbons and banners, forming a human chain that extended around the Pentagon and beyond.
In the spirit of that time, PAX adopted in the general meeting of October 20, 1985 the policy of non-accumulation of funds. As a result, PAX agreed to divest all Community assets and go to a zero cash balance each year by giving away all collected funds to the poor and the needy. This policy remains in effect today.
Some Dissenters
Early PAX members interviewed for this article were quick to point out that not all PAX members were happy or comfortable with this degree of activism. Even married couples did not always agree on the appropriate degree of action to take on a particular issue. When Joan Urbanczyk, Margaret Schellenberg, and Myrtle Hendricks picketed in front of Va. Congressman Frank Wolf’s office in the mid-1980s to protest U.S. government policies in El Salvador, it caused some discomfort for their husbands; at that time Fred Schellenberg was a high-ranking CIA employee, Lou Urbanczyk was a prominent Washington attorney and Bill Hendricks a senior Justice Department official. Myrtle recalls their husbands admonishing them “If you get arrested, don’t call us!”
Minutes of the Steering Committee from September 1984 evidence the differences of opinion within the Community: “The Committee then took up the topic of “concrete” PAX social action . . . The Steering Committee is receiving many comments from members of the community concerning this issue. These comments are on all points of the spectrum ranging from those who believe that PAX may already be straying over the line into undesirable activities, to those who are pleased with the current status quo, to those who feel the need to move PAX into a more aggressive social action posture.”
During this time, PAX often revisited its policy of supporting individuals in their various pursuits but not adopting official Community causes or positions. Each time, the Community voted to maintain that policy. It has worked well during those times and still today, allowing members to garner spiritual and financial support for their individual causes from those who wish to participate, while allowing those who do not wish to do so to abstain comfortably. Many believe that this structure is one of the reasons PAX has survived, why, as Mariano Gowland noted, “PAX was able to remain intact as a community while people were doing some fairly radical things on their own.”
Generational Changes
Some early PAX members recall the years after St. Luke’s as a time when the Community began to experience the death of some of its members. Mariano Gowland remembers: “We began to lose a lot of first generation PAX people.” And because the Community had been so close and had been through so much together, “each case was significant and traumatic.” At the same time, PAX felt the influence of new members joining the Community. Cathy and Jim Pfister, as well as a number of others, crossed over to PAX from St. James parish in Falls Church in the mid-1990’s after a string of “tyrannical” pastors there turned many people off. PAX also gladly welcomed other area Catholics seeking stronger commitment to social justice and a greater degree of intimacy in worship than what they were able to get from their local parishes.
Also significant during the period after St. Luke’s was the rising up of the second generation PAXers – the children of the earliest PAX members, who were now young adults and who began taking on leadership roles in the Community. Myrtle Hendricks reflected on this: “We had been preaching to our children for years that in order to make this a just world, we need to start doing something about the injustices in this world. Then suddenly our children started taking us seriously, and taking on the dangerous work.”
For example, Carl and Elise Siebentritts’ daughter Gretta was so disturbed by the suffering in El Salvador during the 1980’s that she moved there to assist in the humanitarian crisis. During her stay, she reported regularly to the PAX Central American Mission Group regarding American and Salvadoran government activities there, and assisted Salvadorans who were forced to return to that country after their requests for political asylum were rejected by the U.S. government. When Joe Nangle accompanied the Mesa Grande refugees from the Honduran camp to the border, it was Gretta who greeted them on the Salvadoran side and accompanied them safely to their home villages. Gretta would later write a book on the Salvadoran refugee experience.
Original PAX members Bob and Nancy MacIntosh’s son Jim was so influenced by the teaching and living of the gospels during his childhood in PAX that he devoted his entire adult life to service to others. Brinton Brown recalls with a chuckle the first time he participated in mass planning after joining PAX, “I found myself mass planning with Jim MacIntosh, who was still in high school!” As a young adult, Jim helped Joe Nangle found the Assissi house in Washington, D.C. a residential spiritual community devoted to promoting human rights around the world, with special emphasis on Latin America. Jim later ran a shelter for homeless men in the District and eventually was ordained as a Franciscan Brother. He now lives and works as a missionary in Lima, Peru.
Despite the trauma of going it alone, the PAX Community was and remains today sustained and strengthened by the shared vision of a just and peaceful world for all people.
PART 7: FINAL INSTALLMENT
On The Move . . . Again
PAX had no sooner settled in to its new worship space at Franklin Sherman School, when changes in rules for the use of Fairfax County schools meant that the cost of rent at Franklin Sherman would increase substantially by November 1988. So in September 1987, PAX established a committee to look for alternative locations.
As one early PAX member recalls, “It was a real struggle to find a place we liked.” The decision about where to worship had to balance the needs of geographic accessibility and convenience, quality of the worship space, adequate parking, affordable rent, decent available time slots for Sunday Mass, and availability of the space for other occasions of gathering and worship. Needless to say, this was no small task.
After a lengthy search, the PAX Community moved to Williamsburg Junior High School (now Williamsburg Middle School) in Arlington on December 4, 1988. PAX would remain in that space for almost a decade. Carl Siebentritt recalls fondly the time spent at Williamsburg, saying in his usual understated way, “Those were good times.”
Finding a Permanent Home
During the nearly ten years that PAX spent at Williamsburg Middle School, rent for the space increased steadily each year. In 1994, PAX determined that it was no longer viable to continue in that space, and again began to search for something more affordable.
After nearly four years of searching and with the help of Ken Melley and others, PAX finally negotiated a lease for the current worship space at St. Luke’s Serbian Orthodox Church. PAX began to worship there in the summer of 1998. The move to St. Luke’s was an important one, according to many members who lived through the previous moves. One member described it as “a great relief” and another as “a big change.” According to another early member, “none [of the places] felt permanent until St. Luke’s.” Yet another member was amused at the irony of starting at one St. Luke’s (Catholic) and ending up at the other St. Luke’s (Serbian), right down the road. What is clear is that those long-time PAX members greatly appreciate the current space – for its aesthetics, its convenient location, for the kind treatment we receive from St. Luke’s members and staff, and for finally providing what feels like a true home for the PAX community.
A “Legitimate”Catholic Community?
PAX continues to be a haven for Northern Virginia Catholics who are looking for less structure and more meaning in their faith and worship life. However, one question that is often asked by visitors, new PAX members, and skeptical relatives is: “Is PAX a legitimate Catholic community?” It is often amusing to hear stories about prospective members “investigating” PAX before joining. Some have confessed to calling the diocese or asking priests from nearby parishes to “check out PAX” and to find out the “real scoop” about this unique community.
The answer to the legitimacy question is, of course, “Yes.” The community is recognized by the Arlington Diocese. PAX presiders are all ordained Roman Catholic priests with the authority to say Mass, distribute Communion and confer sacraments. All preparations for sacraments conform to diocesan standards and requirements and follow the Catholic Rites. Because we do not have a “parish” per se, sacraments are registered at local parishes for administrative and record-keeping purposes. We do not, however, receive financial support from the diocese. And our operation outside of a parish structure affords us tremendous flexibility in how we worship and express our faith.
One of the greatest blessings of the PAX community is the amazing presiders we have. Brinton Brown’s records show that as of 1994, PAX had been graced by 135 presiders. That number has surely topped the 150 mark by today. (See “Historical Listing of PAX Celebrants” at the end of the page Pax History Documents). They come from all over the Washington area, and include Franciscans, Jesuits, Benedictines and others. Our community benefits from their diverse experience and the insights they bring from their various fields of study. It was with great delight and a wee hint of mischief that Joan Urbanczyk recently asked “How many parishes do you know that get to hand-pick their priests?”
Societal Changes
Many of the subtle changes in the PAX community over the past several decades reflect changes in society at large. For example, the PAX 20-year history document, written in 1989, notes that “many members are now 20 years older and at senior career positions. Given the standard 12-hour work days in Washington, they simply do not have the time for as many planned activities. As a result, there has been a change in the intensity, frequency and manner in which programs and projects are undertaken. [Nonetheless,] the commitment and love of community remain.”
Myrtle Hendricks recalls that “in the old days, most of the work [of PAX] was done between nine and five during the week.” She was referring to the many stay-at-home mothers who poured enormous energy into PAX administration, planning for masses and other events, and community service and outreach. She remembered how she and other PAX women would take their kids in strollers when they would go to their various protests and marches. “Things are different now” she continues, “More women are working outside the home. In some ways it takes a lot more energy to be PAX now. But that’s a good thing.”
PAX Today
PAX history has been a colorful one, filled with ups and downs, disappointments, trials and struggles, and many successes and accomplishments. What remains today, after nearly three and a half decades, is a community blessed with a diverse, talented and committed membership, which remains devoted to living the message of the gospel in community, and reaching out to make ours a more peaceful and just world. As Judy Grissmer stated in my first interview for this series, “There must be something very special for it [PAX] to have lasted this long.” I couldn’t agree with her more!
Epilogue
As the author, I couldn’t end this series on the PAX history without sharing what a joy the experience has been for me.
My initial goal in writing this series was to assuage the curiosity of newer members, like myself, who have been intrigued by the bits and pieces of stories we hear about the early days at PAX. They seemed like such exciting times, and I had often hungered to know the whole story from inception to the present. Of course, much of my fascination was rooted in my “awe” of the early PAX members, whom I regard as much superior to me in terms of their faith and devotion to community.
Despite my target audience, it turns out that it was the older members, more so than the newer ones, who have been energized by the retelling of the PAX history. In the six months since I started this series, I have received so many “great jobs” and kudos, and almost exclusively from those members who lived through the events I was retelling. It almost seems as if remembering where they had come from and the journey they took allowed them to really see in clear terms what they have been able to accomplish. The fruits of their labor thrive today in the incredibly special community we now share.
In the beginning, I expected that I would find the early PAX members reminiscing and pining for the old days, when things were new and there was great drama in the everyday happenings of the Community. Again, this was part of my “newer member inferiority complex.” I thought, surely these early members must find things pretty dull these days, compared with the excitement of the early days. What I found was the exact opposite: the early members have as much enthusiasm for and commitment to PAX today as they ever did. Not once did I pick up the slightest hint of regret or longing for the old days. On the contrary, the early PAXers made it very clear to me that they think PAX is as exciting and meaningful and special today as it ever was before.
As an example, after an interview with Myrtle Hendricks in which she recalled the days when she and other PAX women participated in protests and marches in front of the IMF, the Capitol, and the offices of local politicians, I confessed to her that I feared my generation of women seem like “slackers” compared with hers. Her response to me was remarkable. She said: “But Lisa, you have to remember that marches and protests don’t have the same impact today as they did then. So now, we find new ways to make a difference.” She was letting me know very clearly that she in no way sees us newer PAX members as lesser contributors. We just all contribute in different ways now.
I was a bit nervous about taking on this project of retelling the PAX history. It is always a risk to try to retell a story that you didn’t live through yourself. But I am grateful to the many PAX members who gave of their time, their memories, their recorded facts, dates, etc. in order to make this history possible. It has been the greatest joy for me to hear their story, to relive it with them, and to share it with the rest of the Community. – Lisa Schwartz.
written 19 January 2016