When the first Irish Catholics trickled into this area in the mid
1850s they were influenced by two overriding memories.
• After centuries of persecution a certain modicum of religi=
ous
freedom had returned to Ireland and the Church was gradually re-exerting it=
self
– for the first time there was hope.
(Catholic Emancipation had come in 1829 led by Daniel O’Conn=
ell:
new churches were replacing the old Mass houses, etc.)
• The hope was dashed by the reality of the Great Irish Fami=
ne
(An Gorta Mór, the
worst year was 1848); a natural disaster by which 30% o=
f the
Irish population either died or, to save their lives, were forced to
emigrate.
Those who came to Cameron were probably from the latter group and =
they
tended to travel together for security and mutual support. They came from
County Limerick and were most likely joined by some of the hundreds of Irish
railroad pioneers who became unemployed when the regional railroads had the=
ir westward
progress halted by the Missouri River. The pause allowed spur lines to link
cities and towns north and south of those running east and west.
The Hannibal-St. Joseph line was finished in 1859 but a line, pass=
ing
through Cameron, was constructed to link up with Kansas City. Cameron becam=
e a
junction and began to grow as a town.
The Limerick people had a great affection for their patron saint <=
span
class=3DSpellE>Munchin which was fortified by the resentment generat=
ed by
the fact that their ancient St. Munchin’s
Cathedral had been appropriated by the Church of Ireland, the official bran=
ch
of the Anglican Communion, which they had been forced to support for
generations. I can assure you that as far as the Catholics of Limerick were
concerned Munchin was a “good Catholic=
221;
who founded an Abbey a few miles to the west of the future city about 620 A=
.D.,
many years before the Reformation Churches became a historical reality. As =
the
Catholics of the city by the Shannon rallied to reclaim their saint by buil=
ding
a new St. Munchin’s Church, those who cam=
e here
decided to do the same. (Selecting the name “Mun=
chin”
was probably also influenced by the fact that there were, up and down the
Missouri, already no less than 11 small churches dedicated to St. Patrick a=
nd
four named after St. Brigid.)
The official historian of the Diocese of Limerick calls Munchin “a shadowy
figure” precisely because we know very little about him. His
establishment at Mungret was not a small abbey;=
at
one time it numbered 1500 monks and students. When Mun=
chin
retired he moved to a tiny cell which became known as
“CILL-MUNCHIN” and it, in turn, became the nucleus of the city =
of
Limerick. We believe he had two sisters, both of whom became religious, Ros=
e of
Kilrush and the better-known Lelia
of Killely, also honored as a saint in the Irish
calendar on August 11. All three built churches so, we might say, “it=
was
in their blood” and it is worth while recollecting that Bishop Hogan,=
the
founder of the now hyphenated diocese of St. Joseph and Kansas City, was al=
so
from Limerick.
I have, at some length, deliberately given you some insight into y=
our
roots as a parish community.
These were your parochial ancestors who built your first local
Catholic church in 1868 (the year the Diocese of St. Joseph was established=
),
enlarged it in 1871 and replaced it with the current brick church which was
dedicated 23 years later in 1894.
My deliberation was determined by the fact that this secular histo=
ry
of church building here in Cameron is paralleled in the sacred liturgy of
dedication which also looks for roots in tracing the many interventions of =
our
God in his inspiration of his faithful followers to set aside human
sanctuaries. These serve, as far as is humanely possible, as places were we=
can
get to know our God, all in anticipation of the face to face encounter we
expect to have with him on the other side of the grave. All the limitations=
of
our humanity impel us to select these sacred places where expressive buildi=
ngs
fashioned by our hands serve to articulate the inexpressible; where our hum=
an
voices can seek the consolation of divine comfort and where we can discover=
a
many-dimensioned meaning for our earthly existence. Our nature cries out for
God and through the life and sacrifice of his Incarnate Son, so intimately
linked to the altar, we are introduced to a friend whose interest in our
welfare is totally beyond our comprehension.
In our first reading we share in the experience of Jacob who, at
God’s bidding, anoints his stone pillow to be his altar. God asks and=
he
responds. His gratitude and amazement knows no bounds – ‘how
awesome is this shrine!” he cries out, “it is now an abode of G=
od
and the gateway to heaven.”
Sometimes I wonder why a homily is required at a Mass of Dedication
because, if you follow the rite closely, you will soon realize it is a homi=
ly
in itself.
Following on our sharing in the experience of Jacob you will find
mention of three great community builders or restorers in the Old Testament
– Noah, Abraham and Moses. They led God’s people back to him and
each of them knew suffering in their own lives, in many ways, a foretelling=
of
the great sacrifice of Christ to be liturgically repeated again and again on
your new altar, the marriage of the meal of institution sealed in the blood=
of
the cross. By reciting the Litany of the Saints we beseech all of these =
220;Church-builders”
to be witnesses to the pledge you are making to God to enliven and refresh =
your
devotion to his saving sacrifice.
The Preface announces that this altar is truly a “sacred
place” and it enumerates all the blessings which flow from the altar =
the
sacrifice of Christ which guarantees redemption, the table of nourishment f=
or
all of us and our children and the power of the Spirit which enables us to =
live
lives of courage worthy of Christ.
The altar is blessed and then anointed. It is thus consecrated and=
set
aside from secular use to be a fitting place for the Eucharistic Christ to
visit and feed his people. He comes to you that you may find it easier to f=
ind
him wrapped, not in the swaddling clothes of Bethlehem’s infant, but =
in
the mundane simplicity of bread and wine. This new altar achieves its beauty
and its sacredness because of its association with the promise and the lega=
cy
of Christ. We can truly say – “Christ has died, Christ is risen,
Christ ‘has’ come again.”
Let us ponder the message of our gospel narrative. Christ
met a woman at the well in Samaria and they discussed where best to meet God
– the local mountain sanctuary or within the temple precincts of
Jerusalem, the Holy City? If Christ were to stop in Cameron this eve=
ning
he would surely repeat, “the hour is coming, and is now here, when you
will worship the Father in Spirit and truth” and you will do so every=
time
you repeat my sacrifice upon this altar and within these walls.
AMEN