On Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Cathedral

While I was raised in a Catholic home, attended Catholic schools through 12th grade, had one cousin who was a Carmelite nun and another who was a Monsignor, when I was in college I wandered from the Church. It is a relatively common occurrence. In the past it was often part of the process of a young person working through doubts. The result was usually an adult faith based on one’s inner conversion, rather than simply accepting the heritage of religion that had been passed on to him by his family and community. This is what happened with me. 

I have written about this period of spiritual wandering, exploration and coming home in past Along the Way reflections. The reason I bring it up now is that we are celebrating the 70th anniversary of Mount Carmel Cathedral this month. I have felt a close affinity for the Cathedral ever since I came to the CNMI back in the mid-70’s as a Peace Corps Volunteer. It was renewed a few years later when I returned as an employee of the CNMI Criminal Justice Planning Agency. As a Peace Corps Volunteer, I was still in my wandering phase, but by the time I came back to Saipan, after a year on the mainland and a couple of years on Guam, I had returned to my Catholic roots. My faith had been renewed and my appreciation for the Catholic tradition had a new depth. I wanted to grow in my relationship with Christ and in my knowledge of the Faith. I was reading every book on spirituality I could find, as well as Scripture. I was even reading an occasional book on theology.

One habit that I tried to establish was to attend daily Mass. I would get up early in the morning (well, early for me) and head off to Mt. Carmel Church or to San Jose Church for Mass. After Mass I’d get a pastry and then go to work. Later in the day, if I had free time, I’d stop by church just to sit and pray. During the years of my spiritual wandering I learned to meditate using a method Catholics know as centering prayer. The quiet and cool atmosphere of Mt. Carmel Church was a perfect place for this type of meditative prayer. 

During those early years after my return to the church, Mt. Carmel played an important role in my life. It was a “sacred space” where I could focus my attention on God. I don’t deny that God is everywhere and that in a sense everyplace should be considered “sacred space”, maybe we would be more careful about the environment by recognizing the sacred character of all the Earth.  However, there are places that seem to have a “sacred” character, where the barrier between this dimension of reality and the spiritual realm seems thin and more permeable. Such places may have a sacred character because of historical associations, such as the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem. Others may have gained a sacred character from being a place where prayer has occurred many, many times, such as a place of pilgrimage. 

Still other places may gain a sacred quality simply from the beauty of the location. When I was younger, I would go to a state park about an hour from my home just to sit and pray. On a sunny day in the middle of the park, when the golden light broke through the leaves of the forest cover it was breath-takingly beautiful. The simple beauty of the sight underscored God’s presence and made it a “sacred” place. A famous theologian described this experience of overwhelming beauty as divine “charm” (God’s characteristic of attraction) revealing itself to us in the beauty. I’ve had similar experiences in the islands.

Mt. Carmel has been sacred for me not just as a quiet place for prayer but because it has been the location for many important events and happy memories in my life. I remember lying prostrate on the floor of Mt. Carmel sanctuary the evening 35 years ago, when I was ordained as a deacon. I remember the many people to whom I have ministered in that church over the years. I remember the many homilies that I have preached in Mt. Carmel Cathedral over the years. I also remember the many children that I baptized in that church as well, though most of them are grown up by now.

In recent years it has become the place where my friends and mentors are buried. Bishop Camacho in the cathedral sanctuary and Msgr. Ben Martinez in the Cathedral cemetery. On my recent visits I have tried to spend time at the gravesites of both  men.

When we speak of home we don’t necessarily think of the house in which we live but of the family that lives in the house. Any house is just a building until a family moves in and makes it a home through their lives being played out there. In a similar manner, I am the first to admit that the essence of a church is not the building but the people who make up the community of believers that gather in the building to worship God. However, over time the building in which they gather does take on the quality of a “sacred place” for that community, just as a house becomes a home over time. After 70 years Mt. Carmel Cathedral has taken on the character of a “sacred place” and a spiritual home for many of us; myself included.