I was first assigned to Saint Therese Little Flower (STLF) Parish, on Kansas City’s east side, in 1992. At that time, it had a parish school that served neighborhood children. One day I ran into the diocesan school superintendent there; she was walking the halls and visiting classrooms on her own (often when superintendents visit it is with an entourage of staff or with cameras and marketing personnel). She was Sister Anne Shepard, a Benedictine nun from Atchison, Kansas. When I asked what brought her there that day, she told me that when her job becomes stressful, especially because of unreasonable or demanding people, this is her escape place where she sees the happy faces of children, many whose families can’t afford tuition. She came there to share the joy of the children and get renewed in her vocation.
I thought of that scene earlier this week, when I swung by STLF to drop off food items for our senior center that serves meals to elderly neighbors who exist on very limited incomes. When I pulled into the parking lot, I met two deacons from Lee’s Summit who were delivering a truckload of groceries for the food pantry from their generous parishioners. I encountered BJ, pantry director, who assisted them with her usual sense of gratitude and interior happiness. A neighbor helped me haul my items to the parish hall where our seniors meet. When entering I was overjoyed by retired volunteer workers who had just completed a facelift to the entry way, a small but remarkable renovation that delighted the community. I didn’t get far before one dear woman wanted to show me a quilt she created for our upcoming anniversary celebration, a volunteer cook offered me something to eat, and our center director stopped what she was doing in her busy work to tell me about good things happening amidst the difficulties of those who frequent the center. Like a coffee shop or family reunion, the aromatic kitchen smells wafted in the background of jovial engagement and laughter. In that relatively brief visit, I was reminded of Sister Anne’s sentiment long ago, for I regained a sense of joy, got reminded of gratitude, and was renewed in my vocation.
Saint Therese Little Flower Parish is marking its one hundredth anniversary this fall. It is the only Catholic Church that remains east of Troost Avenue all the way to the Truman Sports Complex, south of 17th Street and north of I-435, where a dozen others have closed in the past half-century while more have been built in suburbia. Nearly four years ago, unfortunately, the diocese considered closing STLF because of low numbers: decreased census, declining Mass attendance, meager income, few contributions, insufficient numbers of baptisms, weddings, first communions, and confirmations, etc. It was charged to improve all categories. The good news is that it has improved substantially in each. People have come from all directions—not just to drop in but to become partners in ministry. And though Mass attendance has doubled in the past few years, it is still not sufficient. I don’t think our city or diocese can afford to close another urban parish. This one is far too important in a desert of Catholic presence.
The actual centennial anniversary is Thanksgiving Day—very appropriate for a parish community filled with appreciation. It has been an oasis of hope for many people throughout the century just as it was once for Sister Anne and is now for me when things get me down or people seem unreasonable. Consider joining us to celebrate the anniversary Mass there at 10:00 on Thanksgiving morning. The following evening, November 28, the community will gather at the KC Marriott downtown for a formal dinner that connects us to other feasts, including the first Mass (or Last Supper) and the last-future-eternal banquet in heaven. To learn more about or to participate in the festivities, visit the Saint Therese Little Flower website. And let us give thanks for places in our lives that serve as an oasis of hope.