Will the Bells Cease to Peal?

The recent news that two venerable churches that have played an important role in Concord's Catholic Community for many years may be closed, filled me with an unexpected sadness. I had not seen it coming and was instantly filled with a lot of memories - some good and some rather unsettling.

St. Peter's Church on North State Street and Sacred Heart (Sacre Coeur as it was known by many), on Pleasant Street, had become, on paper at least, part of the Christ the King Parish which also encompassed St. John Church on South Main Street. Like many in the community, I had hoped that the changes in the make-up of the city's Catholic Parishes would go no further. Unfortunately that does not appear to be the case. Both churches are expected to be sold and rumors have long circulated that the federal government may purchased Sacred Heart and demolish it to make room for a parking lot for the federal office buildings that sit across the street from the beautiful building.

The Catholic Community in Concord was once a strong and devout group, comprised of thousands of locals who worshipped within the walls of the three downtown Churches. Penacook had Immaculate Conception and in the 1950s, Immaculate Heart of Mary sprung up on Loudon Road at a time when the area was virtually deserted.

Our family attended St. Peter's Church - initially on the corner of Bradley and Walker Street, when I was barely learning to walk and then in the newly built church on North State.

The old church was connected to the school where the Sisters of Mercy taught grades 1-8.

St. Peter's was comprised of many Italian and Irish families and was an amazingly close-knit Parish. Hardly a month went by in which there wasn't a Church Supper, Church Fair, Bingo Nite, Raffle, a Christmas Fair that truly exemplified the best of what a fair should be, and the annual St. Patrick's Day Show.

At St. Peter's, you didn't need to be able to sing or dance to be in the show, you only had to have enthusiasm and a willingness to go out on stage in front of 800 people and smile. For years this annual event would pack Concord's City Auditorium for two performances. While it raised money for the Parish, the biggest plus was the involvement of practically everyone in the parish and the joy they had in working together.

The Nuns who taught at St. Peter's School lived in a large convent on North State Street and walked through the North Cemetary each morning to reach the school.

On my first day as I saw the black garbed Sisters making their way through the historic cemetary, a classmate told me that the Sisters "slept in the cemetary in a crypt and rose each morning to come to school...."  I had no reason to not believe that at the time.

I was a very religious child, often stopping at the church on my way home from school to light a candle and say a prayer. There was comfort and a sense of security within the confines of St. Peter's and the smell of incense and the rich sounds of the organ on Sunday, only added to that fervor. In those more safe times, the church was unlocked all day and welcomed anyone who sought a place to be contemplative.

While some may say that a church is more than just a building and I would agree on many levels, there is still something remarkable that occurs when you enter a church that has been a part of your life forever. That sense of peace and solemnity not to mention familiarity can instantly transport you to the place you need to be to get the most out of your worship.

When I was sent to Camp Fatima, the Catholic-run summer Camp in New Hampshire, my faith took a major beating. The camp was a veritable school for pedophiles and pedophiles in training, a nightmarish experience that many still hesitate to discuss or have buried the experience so deep in their sub-conscious, they're convinced it never happened.

Sure, some escaped unscarred. But for some who became prey to something far darker than the Hell described in the Baltimore Catechism that we studied in grammar school, it forever changed the way we thought and felt about the Catholic Church.

When I begged Msgr. Sliney at St. Peter's to do something about it, he accused me of lying and told me I would spend "eternity in the damnation of Hell's fires...."

My familiarity with Sacred Heart stemmed from my years of working at Concord's Concord Theatre. Theresa Cantin, the owner, began every day with Mass at Sacred Heart and like so many Parishioners, took immense pride in the joy of attending Mass in that Church.

Twenty years ago, I rediscovered my faith while living in Los Angeles and working at CBS Television City.

St. Ambrose, a lovely Church on Fairfax, just blocks from the network, became my regular hangout. I went because I wanted to and not because to not go would be a Mortal Sin.

In the 1960s, it seemed the Catholic Church was beginning to evolve in many positive ways, recognizing that some change was necessary and good if the Faith of the People was to be sustained. Unfortunately that progress seemed to halt and almost seem to backtrack in the 1980s and the years since.

The refusal of the Church to explore options from allowing a Priest to marry or a woman to become a priest has driven many to try other Churches where there seems to be a more welcoming environment.

I still pray that the Catholic Church will find its way back but it may be too late to see a day when St. Peter's and Sacred Heart are once again filled with the faithful. Their closure may be a bigger loss than anyone can comprehend at present.