The house that dedication built
Thursday,
March 17, 2005 Story and Photos by Pauline Vu (Nguoi Viet
2 Online)
|
ALLELUJAH: Parishioners gather for a Mass, above, at a church
whose seeds were planted when 20 members decided to get a loan
from the bank to buy land in the seventies.
A statue of the building’s namesake, the Holy Martyrs, graces
the grounds outside.
The congregation has a website that lists the names of all 117
holy martyrs with some of their histories and participants of all
ages gather each year on Nov. 24 to feast in their honor.
Inside, a picturesque window illuminates the tranquil decor.
PLANTING, GROWING: The young are a priority for church leaders
and organizers, who encourage them to volunteer their services as
well as work closely with their elders to strengthen the parish’s
future. |
ARLINGTON, Va. —
It’s a simple brick building, and it doesn’t look important, but it’s
proof of how far Vietnamese Catholics have come in northern Virginia,
when three decades ago- they had no place to call their own.
Thirty years, 1,750 families and more than 7,000 parishioners later,
the Holy Martyrs of Vietnam Parish is its own thriving community, the
oldest such parish for Vietnamese Catholics in their new homeland. Its
pews are packed for services. Every parking spot is filled, along with
the lanes between and behind the cars.
After last month’s Tết Mass, hundreds swarmed into the auditorium to
eat and cheer on performances. It’s hard to imagine this suburban
church once struggled for its existence.
Yet it was a long road to get to this point.
In 1975, after the Vietnam War ended, about 50,000 refugees settled in
the northern part of the state. Some of them met with the then-bishop
of Arlington, Thomas Welsh, about a congregation for them to worship.
The diocese of Arlington decided to have a Vietnamese Mass at a
different church each week so that Vietnamese all over Fairfax County
could attend at least one service a month. But things didn’t work out
so well.
“We had no car, we didn’t know how to drive. Many times we did get to
the church and the Mass was over. It was terrible,” recalled Thư Hữu
Bùi, 70, chairman of the parish council and one of the church’s
founders.
Welsh eventually allowed the Vietnamese to have Mass at St. James
Church in the city of Falls Church, nearby, but there were problems
with that, too. They held the service in the auditorium, not in front
of the actual nave. And that service started at 3 p.m., then at 4 p.m.
they were promptly kicked out. With no gatherings or activities “or
even a place for the choir to practice,” Bùi remembered that the
situation was tough.
Then in 1979, the community borrowed a loan and bought a former
Salvation Army store in neighboring Annandale. It stood in an
abandoned lot with neck-high grass and rats and snakes. Still, it was
theirs.
By August of that year, the church had its dedication ceremony,
honoring the first Vietnamese Catholic parish in the country, the
Blessed Martyrs of Vietnam Parish.
The people with debts paid them off in six years. To celebrate,
worshippers burned the mortgage papers at a ceremony in front of
Bishop Welsh.
But already the parish was outgrowing its own space.
In 1985, the congregation moved into its current home, once called the
Barcroft Bible Church. Another significant change followed. Pope John
Paul II, in June 1988, canonized the church’s namesakes, the
Vietnamese martyrs who were persecuted in the 19th century. The group
soon switched its name from Blessed Martyrs to Holy Martyrs of
Vietnam.
The parish property expanded along with the congregation. Parishioners
bought a house for the priests and later a three-story building for
its education center. In front of the church they set up statues, made
in the country of their birth, of the Holy Martyrs.
Bùi pointed out with pride that before, they had one choir; now, they
boast eight. Before, volunteers organized five separate church
organizations, a total that’s climbed to 18, spanning scouting troops,
and groups representing young professionals, mothers and seniors
group.
More than 250 students signed up for the church’s Vietnamese language
class.
There is something for everybody at Holy Martyrs, and the social
groups form the heart of the church. The one for the elderly, for
example, meets every Sunday after the noon Mass for a traditional meal
and fellowship. Some members are nursing-home residents who need a
ride to and from services in the church’s 15-seat van. The parish,
indeed, is one of their only connections to the outside world.
“For these Vietnamese seniors, they have a place to get together,”
said Mai Bùi, 63, Thư Bùi’s wife as well as group participant. “Some
of them cannot cook and they have to eat American food.”
Here, “it’s a chance to socialize,” she added. “It has a spiritual and
communal dimension, the way we pray and the way we take care of each
other.”
The aging men and women doesn’t just pray together, however; the
church organizes picnics, as well as trips to Canada, Missouri, and to
Virginia’s popular Luray Caverns. The church attracts even local
Vietnamese who weren’t raised Catholic.
Văn Hong Ngô, once a Buddhist, converted to Catholicism in 2000 when
he married his Catholic wife. But he had come to Holy Martyrs prior to
his wedding to join a Christmas gala.
“It seemed to be pulling me to Catholicism,” said Ngô, 37, who serves
on the parish’s financial council. He goes “to worship God, and
whenever the church needs help, I’m there to help others and God.”
Ngô also discovered that after graduating from George Washington
University, where he was vice president of the Vietnamese Students
Association, he didn’t have many opportunities to meet other
Vietnamese. Holy Martyrs changed that.
“I guess the church is the only way for me to join the Vietnamese
culture,” he said.
When the Rev. Bình Minh Đòan, the parish vicar, first arrived in 2003,
he quickly noticed the congregation members were eager to do whatever
it took to help their church thrive.
“Many people volunteer, try to help out, not only (with) their
enthusiasm, but (with) their skill,” Đòan explained. Parishioners who
were licensed contractors re-paneled the wood in the church, charging
only for materials. The men would come after their day jobs ended, he
said, and work long into the night.
Another fellow, “without being asked to,” recently re-tiled Đòan’s
office with marble.
He figures the man’s generosity allows them to take more ownership of
the church.
“It’s very much the mentality of Vietnamese people. They want to
contribute something to the church,” Đòan said. “If you build
something, it’s yours.
And “they want to give a part of themselves to the church.”
Holy Martyrs is now in a position to help others, Bùi noted. The
church often provides Vietnamese immigrants who are unprepared for an
East Coast winter with warm clothes, along with furniture, utensils,
and maybe a few bottles of nước mắm.
Volunteers don’t draw the line at aiding only Vietnamese immigrants.
At one Mass, a Mexican couple needing help to pay the rent waited
while the seniors group passed around a basket. They collected $70,
which Bùi gave to the couple as he wished them, “Mucha suerte,” for
good luck.
The church continues to grow and modernize. Bùi posts an audio file of
each week’s homily on the Web site, at www.cttdva.net, which has
gained more than 100,000 hits since 2000. Holy Martyrs’ size even now
amazes him.
“I had many concerns and many questions whether we would still be here
after 20 years,” he said. “But as I went around to talk about the need
to have a place for the Vietnamese, I now strongly believe that it
will be here to stay.”
|
| 
