|
Founded:
April, 1930
Location: 3705 Woodlawn
Ave., Los Angeles
Our Lady of the Angels
Region: Deanery 15
 In
an archdiocese of almost 300
parishes and more than 30
different languages, only one
church --- the only one west of
the Mississippi, in fact ---
offers liturgies each week in
German, Hungarian, Spanish and
English.
St. Stephen Church's
intriguing and unusual history
began rather by coincidence in
1925 when a Sister of Social
Service, Fredericka Horvath,
came to California for health
reasons and found a number of
Hungarian families who wanted to
pray in their native tongue.
Luckily she met a Jesuit
missionary on his way to China
who delayed his trip to conduct
the first Hungarian mission
here.
By
1927 the St. Stephen Society was
founded. The following year,
again by coincidence, Bishop
John Cantwell accepted the
recommendation of another Jesuit
to contact a Hungarian priest
visiting the U.S. in Connecticut
but on his way back to his
native land.
 That
priest, Father Mathias Lani,
received this telegram: "I
invite you to Los Angeles to
take care of my Hungarian
people. Bishop Cantwell."
In April 1928 Father Lani
arrived in Los Angeles and with
the bishop's permission placed
the new parish under the
protection of St. Stephen, the
ruler and founder of Christian
Hungary in the 11th century.
(St. Stephen was canonized in
1083 and is venerated as the
ideal Christian king; known as
the patron of kings,
stonecutters and those who have
lost children, his feast is
celebrated Aug. 20.)
To
erect a church, three lots were
purchased in 1929 and many
sacrifices were made during
those days of the Great
Depression to complete the
building. Finally, on April 6,
1939, St. Stephen Church was
dedicated for a congregation of
primarily Hungarian and German
parishioners, as well as Mexican
immigrants who spoke Spanish and
more established residents who
spoke English, all of whom
Father Lani welcomed warmly.
 The
Sisters of Social Service
contributed to the parish from
the beginning, and Father Lani
continued to build up other
parish groups --- such as the
Hungarian Ladies Society,
Council of Catholic Women and
Holy Name Society --- that
helped form a dedicated core of
support. He also led music and
coached soccer for youth.
The Hungarian pastor had been
a farmer, soldier, musician and
athlete, but his greatest
challenge was heading the
archdiocesan resettlement
program for displaced persons
from Europe following World War
II. The Catholic Resettlement
Council brought 5,000 refugees
here and Father Lani raised
$250,000 for Hungarian relief.
He worked tirelessly in helping
the refugees in every way ---
employment advisor, tax
consultant, housing agent,
budget advisor.
Father
Lani's early death in 1954, at
age 55, resulted in one of the
largest funeral processions in
the city's history --- 700 to
800 cars in the cortege to
Calvary Cemetery. A year after
his death, through the labor of
volunteer parishioners, a parish
hall was dedicated to Father
Lani's memory.
 For
the next three years, Msgr.
Edward Wade served as
administrator; in Europe, it was
the time of the Hungarian
Revolution, and again
parishioners helped to resettle
more new immigrants.
Austrian-born Father Arnold
Biedermann was appointed
administrator in 1957, pastor in
1959 and served at St. Stephen
until 1966 when he was named the
first pastor of Sacred Heart
Church in Ventura (where, now a
monsignor, he is pastor
emeritus).
In 1967 the multi-language
parish was placed under the care
of the Norbertine Fathers, a
community founded in the 12th
century in Magdeburg that, in
modern times, had a similar
history of religious
persecution. The refugee priests
first came to Santa Ana to teach
at Mater Dei High School.
St. Stephen's first Norbertine
pastor was Hungarian native
Father Benedict Horvath, a
college professor and pastor in
his homeland who had managed to
escape from behind the Iron
Curtain. He served the parish
for 23 years with a zeal and
commitment not unlike the
founding pastor's. Father
Horvath died in 1998 at age 97.
The present pastor,
Norbertine Father Hermann-Joseph
Rettig, began his ministry in
1990. A native of St. Louis, he
entered the community in 1976,
completing his theological
studies at the Angelicum in
Rome, and spent a year in
Hungary and Austria to develop
his language skills. At St.
Stephen he celebrates most of
the multi-language liturgies and
leads the parish in the annual
feast day homage to its patron,
on the third Sunday of August.
| Friday,
March 12, 2004 |
 |
| The
village church in South
Los Angeles |
|
| By
Sister Nancy Munro, CSJ
|
|
|
To understand St.
Stephen Parish is to
know the human heart and
its thirst for a home.
For more than 70 years
this South Los Angeles
church, between Main
Street and Woodlawn at
37th Street, has been a
refuge for its people
--- a home for those
countless whose primary
languages are Hungarian,
German or Spanish.
A large number of
today's parishioners
arrived at the doors of
St. Stephen's before
moving into apartments
or beginning work. They
received a hot meal and
a welcome to the United
States, and then began
to re-establish their
lives. Most often what
they created was their
own sort of
"village"
similar to those they
were forced to leave
behind.
The
story of St. Stephen
Parish is the story of
its people like
Elizabeth and Frank
Gasztonyi, Anna Voros,
Katie Wolpert, Liz and
Frank Schneider, Regina
Hefner Greger-Hight and,
more recently, those
with Spanish surnames
like Contreras and
Galdamez.
 "They
know me; I know
them," declared
Steve Schinko, a
Hungarian-German
parishioner for 50
years. "We're just
like family from a
foreign country ---
Yugoslavia, Hungary,
Romania, Austria,
Germany --- all mixed up
in one language. It's
family. One hand washes
the other; two hands
wash the face. And we
have lots of Spanish,
too."
St. Stephen Church
developed its unique
spirit as a Hungarian
parish under founding
pastor, Father Mathias
Lani, and it continues
today with the present
pastor, Father
Hermann-Joseph Rettig.
Father Lani, as a young
boy, lived in Modosch in
what was then Hungary
and later became
Yugoslavia. His
education was Hungarian
and his mother tongue
was the German dialect.
As pastor the
Hungarians of St.
Stephen Parish
considered him Hungarian
and the Germans
considered him German
--- welcoming and warm
hearted, as were his
parishioners. "He
melded the two as one
community
perfectly," says
Father Rettig of his
predecessor.
St. Stephen Parish
still has its St.
Stephen and St. Emery
Hungarian Societies,
Holy Name Society,
Hungarian and German
Choirs, a Spanish
language choir and
prayer group, and groups
of Hungarians and
Germans cook a hot meal
each Sunday for all who
attend Mass.
"I feel like
every time I come here I
am with God," says
Rosina Leinz. "It's
the priest, Father
Rettig, the people I
come to meet --- it's my
second home. It feels
like at home in the old
country."
To Father Rettig, St.
Stephen's "is my
whole life. These people
are my family. I cannot
imagine being closer to
anyone more than I am to
my people here."
They see him much like a
member of their
families, "like a
son, brother or
grandson," he says.
An extended family, and
then some. Parishioners
come for Sunday Mass
from Banning, Long
Beach, Santa Ana,
Hawthorne, and the San
Fernando Valley. Anni
Blasi, nearly 90,
travels an hour, one-way
via bus, from her duplex
in Mar Vista to Sunday
Mass. "It's no
sacrifice," she
says. "I like to do
it."
Conversely, a sick
call can take Father
Rettig to Palos Verdes
or Downey. About 600
families are very active
in the parish and
another 2,400 families
come at least once a
month or for special
feasts. About 300
children are in
religious education
classes, and 250-300
make their First
Communion each year. As
Katie Wolpert, 88, says,
"This is our home
now. I am every Sunday
here where your friends
are coming here. When I
die I want to be buried
from my church
here."
"I love the
church. I love the
church," says
Elizabeth Gasztonyi.
"This is a little
bit of Hungary for us.
It is so beautiful. I've
gone to other churches.
No matter where I go I
yearn for this one. This
church is close to my
heart. It is in my
heart, my soul, and it's
in me. I don't think I
could be without
it."
|
|
