Bottomless Mine of Motherly Love

It was in 1902 that the Passionists, the religious order dedicated to Christ’s crucifixion, purchased 10 acres of high ground overlooking the northeastern Pennsylvania city of Scranton.

Before laying the cornerstone, the order chose St. Ann patron of its projected monastery. The mother of the Blessed Mother, they noted, “will take care of her own.”

There’s a thought worth prayer and contemplation on Mother’s Day.

Early-20th-century Scranton was the center of the coal-mining industry. Any time a new building went up, the locals worried about the potential for foundational cave-in due to digging far beneath. The site was checked and deemed sound, yet sure enough, in 1911, a land slippage below the fairly new monastery forced a weeklong evacuation.

In 1913, two days after the July 26 feast of St. Ann, a much more serious subsidence jolted the monastery, causing major structural damage. The situation seemed hopeless. A report of the time quotes mine professional James Regan: “The entire hill is sliding, and nothing on earth can stop it. The monastery is doomed.”

In an outcome widely credited to St. Ann’s patronage, the monastery survived. In fact, although the foundation had severely buckled, the ground underneath resettled in a manner that filled all empty shafts, completely stabilizing the sacred site.

Almost a century later, it remains solid.

Thanks to intense fund-raising of local laity, the mine cave damage was repaired, enabling the monastery community to return in 1916. This growing laity involvement prompted the Passionist Fathers to open public devotions in 1924.

As was the Passionist custom, the community had begun a novena to St. Ann on July 17, 1906, within the monastic enclosure. When the monastery was opened to the surrounding community, the crowd quickly outgrew the small chapel and even scheduling additional services did not suffice.

The Italian Renaissance structure that now looms over West Scranton was dedicated in 1929.

Through the years, the novena has remained popular. St. Ann is honored in Scranton and its environs as the patron saint of miners, and devotion to her spread from town to town and from generation to generation in ever-widening circles long after the mining industry itself faded from the area.

Currently, every Monday there are six well-attended devotions and afternoon Eucharistic adoration.

Magnetic Attraction

Media has played an important role at St. Ann’s. First telecast in 1955, the daily Mass and weekly devotions are now transmitted nationwide by satellite. As early as 1939, novena devotions were broadcast locally on radio. I still recall the strains of “O Good St. Ann” floating through our neighborhood every late Monday afternoon.

Nostalgia alone, however, cannot explain why I, like so many others, respond to the spiritual magnetism of this basilica where God manifests his presence in a special way.

Although my home parish is 16 miles away, I often drive up broad

St. Ann Street
to the imposing shrine with its old-world colonnade flanking the parking lot.

Near the vestibule entrance, I usually pause at the statue of St. Ann with her welcoming grandmother’s face. The vast interior of the shrine church is magnificent, with broad expanses of marble and rich wood, vaulted ceilings, a baldacchino towering over the altar to a chancel arch encircling a gold-scripted prayer: “Through the intercession of St. Ann, may God bless you in every way.”

Above the centrally located tabernacle gleams a crucifix of majestic proportions.

Between services, I can pray at the outdoor stations and grotto or explore the upper and lower basilicas, a visual feast with generous adornments of sacred statuary and icons.

To the left of the sanctuary is a side altar to St. Ann, and within the lower basilica a small chapel contains a reliquary of Passionist founder St. Paul of the Cross and follower St. Gemma Galgani, both warmed by countless votive candles. The gift shop offers artifacts carved from anthracite coal, a variety of Passionist books and CDs, and not-to-be-missed oatmeal-molasses bread baked by nearby Passionist nuns.

 

Healings Happen

Central to the shrine’s story is the solemn novena culminating on St. Ann’s feast July 26. Held outdoors on the spacious grounds, the ceremonies attract upwards of 10,000 national and international pilgrims. Observes Passionist Father Cassian Yuhaus, St. Ann’s rector: “These summer devotions are unique. In other places, crowds may fill an arena for one day, but where else do you find thousands for 10 days?”

A great blessing of the novena are the many opportunities for the sacrament of reconciliation. After every service, Passionists hear confessions in the many confessionals that line the nave’s south perimeter. On St. Ann’s feast they offer the sacrament all day long beginning at 4 a.m.

More striking than reports of physical healing — so numerous Father Yuhaus is chronicling them in a book — are accounts of penitents who return to the fold during this grace-filled time.

In 1996, Pope John Paul II declared St. Ann’s of Scranton a minor basilica. To the right and left, respectively, of the stately main altar a large scarlet-and-red ombrellino and John Paul’s framed coat of arms boldly proclaim this special status.

But despite Rome’s recognition, the monastery is ever true to its roots. Every “devoted client of St. Ann,” favored term for novena faithful, loves to recount St. Ann’s relationship to the 2002 mine disaster at Quecreek Mine in western Pennsylvania.

At 9 p.m. on Wednesday, July 25, water estimated at 60 million gallons breached a retaining wall, trapping nine miners in an icy cavern 240 feet underground. On the feast of St. Ann, “devoted clients” offered countless fervent prayers for the miners — a brotherhood historically close to their hearts.

After 76 hours, emergency crews reached the miners, who were not only still alive but in surprisingly good condition. As any regional resident knows, such endings to a protracted three-day rescue effort are indeed rare.

Once more, it would seem, St. Ann indeed had taken care of her own.

Happy Mother’s Day, good mother of the Blessed Mother.

E.M. Farrell writes from

Carbondale, Pennsylvania.

Planning Your Visit

For Mass and novena schedules, and other helpful information, visit themass.org on the Internet or call (800) THE MASS.

Getting There

From central Scranton, take

Lackawanna Avenue
to
North Main Avenue
. Follow North Main to
St. Ann Street
and turn right. The basilica is two blocks up the hill