Moving Ceremony

Amid the hiss of a welder’s torch and the deafening whir of a leaf blower, Msgr. Gary Bauler smiled as he passed a group of parishioners and offered a morsel of advice:

“Try not to think about the pressure.”

But doing so proved easier said than done as crews of workers and members of St. Peter Claver Catholic Church in Simi Valley spent Friday scrambling to put the finishing touches on their new church before its dedication today.

“It’s amazing how many details just seem to pop up at the last minute,” said Jim Carper, who headed planning for the dedication. “It’s kind of one thing after another, but it will all get done.”

After three years of planning, more than 1,000 members of the church will gather to witness and celebrate its dedication with a special Mass and religious anointing.

Cardinal Roger M. Mahony of the Los Angeles Archdiocese is expected to attend and break the church’s “seal,” officially opening it as a place of worship.

Though work crews and parishioners had been busy throughout the week tending to a seemingly endless list of preparations, Friday’s last-minute activity took on added meaning--and not just because the clock was ticking.

It was also the final chance for the members to worship in their old church, just across the courtyard.

“It was a bittersweet moment,” Carper said of the final Mass, which attracted about 50 people. “It’s sad to leave a place that has so many memories, but we’re all happy to be moving to our new church.”

Established a quarter century ago, the congregation of St. Peter Claver’s first met to worship at Simi Valley High School until the church moved 20 years ago to a large building at the corner of Cochran and Stow streets.

Though the building was boxy and lacked such common church accouterments as a steeple, it served the parishioners well for 20 years.

However, as the congregation grew, space for worship began to dwindle until church elders began considering building a new church three years ago.

“We were bursting at the seams,” Carper said. “Sunday Mass was always so crowded that we had chairs in the aisles. . . . So building a new church became important; we needed it.”

Though the church had money already earmarked for construction, members still had to raise the bulk of the $3.2 million needed for the project.

They held fund-raisers, took collections, made donations and played a lot of bingo. But members said the effort created an even stronger bond within the church community.

“It’s a real milestone for the church,” Bauler said.

Ideas for the appearance of the church varied, but the congregation finally agreed on a Spanish mission design because it reflects the flavor and history of the Simi Valley area.

With room for about 1,000 worshipers, the new church is cavernous, though not intimidating.

Its polished wood altar, doors and support beams at the ceiling radiate warmth.

Instead of being arranged in straight rows away from the altar as they traditionally are, the pews fan out in a semicircle--a setup that will allow the congregation to cluster around the altar for services.

“The church is a family, and the way it’s designed, I think, reflects that,” Carper said.

The church also includes a gurgling granite font, which will be used for baptisms, and a shallow bowl containing holy water.

Behind the altar is a small sanctuary for private meditation and prayer. Above the door is an old Russian icon illustrating biblical scenes. It was given to the church by a donor who wanted to remain anonymous.

The donor told church officials that his father smuggled the icon out of Russia in the tumultuous days following the 1917 revolution, when bands of Communists began sacking churches in the name of an atheistic state.

On his deathbed, his father made him promise to return the icon to a church.

“It’s such a beautiful story,” said Parish Council President John Elotson. “And it was something we were happy to put in our church.”

However, as parishioners began removing items from the walls of the old church, many couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness at closing the doors on a place that has been center stage in their spiritual lives.

As they readied the candelabra and gilded chalices for the religious procession to their new quarters, they commented on how strange the old church looked with its walls bare.

Before cleaning the crucifix with a soft rag doused in paint thinner, Vladimir Fofanoff glanced up to the spot where it had hung for the past 20 or so years.

“It’s getting pretty empty in here,” he said to another parish volunteer who was cataloging sacramental objects.

“Some of this is hard,” Bauler acknowledged. “But this is a new beginning for us, and one that I and everyone else is looking forward to.”