DIOCESE IN TRANSITION: Parishioners face a period of change

ELYRIA — Two churches, one priest.

The situation is not ideal. Yet it’s the reality the Rev. Ed Gombak faces weekly as he serves as pastor at both Sacred Heart and Holy Cross churches in Elyria.

The responsibility makes for a hectic schedule.

On Sundays, the minister performs 9 a.m. Mass at Sacred Heart, where about 80 to 100 members await the weekly sacrament. As soon as the liturgy is complete, Gombak heads to Holy Cross for a 10:30 a.m. Mass.

Often, the priest is late for the latter, but members patiently wait until he takes the pulpit.

That’s because despite having longstanding ties to the community, the respective congregations are struggling under the weight of change.

They no longer are the Hungarian and Polish churches of the past, catering to the immigrant populations of their neighborhoods. Now they are the smallest of five area churches that — under the Cleveland Catholic Diocese’s Vibrant Parish plan — may soon find themselves closing their doors.

The plan includes a directive from Bishop Richard Lennon, who a year ago called for a mass reorganization of the diocese’s many parishes. As a result, parish clusters have been told to consolidate so that they are stronger together than they would be operating individually.

There are 231 parishes in the eight-county area of Northeast Ohio assigned to 69 cluster units.

The 34 churches in Lorain County account for nine of those cluster units. In Elyria, St. Agnes, St. Jude, St. Mary, Holy Cross and Sacred Heart form one cluster and have been told the area should be served by no more than three parishes by July 2010.

STEVE MANHEIM / CHRONICLE PHOTOS
Holy Cross Catholic Church, 1417 West Ave.

Sacred Heart Church, 162 Irondale St.

“It’s not like we’re sitting around thinking about it,” said 82-year-old Joann Eichenlaub, an active Sacred Heart parishioner for the last 40 years. “As long as we can keep enough people in the pews to pay the bills, I think we will be here at least for the next year or so. Until then, every Mass we have at Sacred Heart is just one more chance for us to celebrate.”

Rejoicing in the face of what some may see as a reason for sadness is the Sacred Heart way, Eichenlaub said. When the time comes for Sacred Heart to close, Elyria can rest assured its footprint won’t fade away, Eichenlaub said.

“We are going to change the face of the churches in Elyria,” she said. “We are not going to sit in the back row waiting to be acknowledged. We are not going to wait until someone else sings for us to celebrate. We are going to carry our gifts with us wherever we go.”

Looking toward Sacred Heart’s final days can’t be done without also looking to its past.

At one time, Sacred Heart was the place of worship for newly immigrated Hungarians. Mass was held daily in front of a thriving congregation, and all those who decided to settle within the city’s boundaries sought it out as a church home.

That is how longtime Elyrian Karoly Molnar found his way to Sacred Heart.

He came to Elyria at the age of 21 from Miskolc, Hungary, at the urging of other already-settled relatives. He barely spoke English and found comfort in the church with its Hungarian pastor who conducted Mass in his native tongue.

“Back then, they had a pretty good crowd,” said the 72-year-old. “The services were done in Hungarian, so that’s where all the Hungarians went.”

Molnar, who married his wife of 50 years, Dorothy, at Sacred Heart, moved from the area in search of a neighborhood where he could raise a family. That search led him to Windsor Drive, where he sent his three children to nearby St. Jude School and Elyria Catholic High School.

He’s not surprised by the turn of events that could send more Sacred Heart members to St. Jude.

“There’s just no such thing as a Hungarian church anymore,” he said. “They are only four or five Hungarians that go there, and that’s no way to keep a church going. St. Jude is a community church where everybody loves each other.”

Holy Cross also has strong ethnic roots in the Polish heritage.

From the statues of Polish saints St. Stanislaus and St. Casimir to a picture of Pope John Paul II that hangs in the church, and the Polish words “Idzcie W Pokoju” painted on the front of the choir loft for all to see as they leave the church, the Polish heritage is well represented.

It is that Polish foundation that helped grow the church in the early 1900s when a Catholic mission was formed to reach out to those who spoke only Polish or very little English. At first, the group met in the basement of St. Mary Church.

It was not until enough money was saved in 1914 that the church ended up at its current location. Back then, the south side was a beacon for Polish immigrants and the church was the main focal point that brought everyone together.

However, Holy Cross has seen its share of ups and downs.

Parishioners and priests came and went. A Catholic school was started but was forced to close in June 1973 due to declining enrollment. The Polish neighborhood of the early 1900s began to take on a different demographic as other minorities, mainly African-Americans, moved into the area.

Nonetheless, the church has tried to stay true to its Polish roots and pays tribute to its past by sometimes posting church bulletins in Polish.

Still, a telling sign of change remains.

Holy Cross is too small to have its own priest. There are no longer any nuns or deacons at the church, and on most days the parking lot is sparsely occupied.

Contact Lisa Roberson at 329-7121 or lroberson@chroniclet.com.



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