Ash Wednesday

In 1733, Fr. Joseph Greaton, SJ, erected a small chapel in an alley at 4th and Walnut. (In Philadelphia, Pa.) The building—and its location—was inconspicuous, but it drew the attention of Pennsylvania’s Provincial Council, where it was reported that there was "no small concern to hear that a House lately built in Walnut Street was sett apart for the Exercise of the Roman Catholick Religion and it is commonly called the Romish Chappell, where Mass [is] openly celebrated by a Popish priest, contrary to the Laws of England."  The public practice of Catholicism was at that time contrary to the laws of England, but the council deferred judgment against Greaton to the governor, who chose not to notify the king. By deciding not to decide, the governor made Old Saint Joseph’s the only place in the colonies where Mass could be celebrated legally.

Not only did this church escape the pressure of the King of England in the eighteenth century,, it also was spared from the Know Nothing rioting mob of the mid-nineteenth century who burned several churches on their way down 4th Street. In the above photo the priest is distributing ashes on Ash Wednesday to parishoners.  The phrase he recites reminds us of our mortality which I think of daily.

On a personal note, my bride-to-be and I visited Old St. Joseph's the day before our wedding. I haven't been back since but not because of the  penance doled out by that old Jesuit priest.

Mea Culpa!
tjs
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