The Dawn of a New Beginning

Fifty years after our predecessors decided to build a Croatian Catholic parish in Mississauga, the question is no longer only what we have received from them, but what we will leave to those who come after us

In 1977, Croatians living in Mississauga and the Peel region did not have this church. They had no parish hall, no park, and no spacious grounds where their children could gather. They had no place they could call their spiritual home.

What they did have was the Catholic faith they had brought from their homeland, hands accustomed to hard work, and a firm determination not to live without roots in their new country.

Most of them did not come to Canada because life at home had been easy. They left behind family, a familiar language, the landscape they knew, and an established way of life. In their new country, they worked demanding jobs, learned unfamiliar ways, and began building a future almost from nothing. Yet after a long working week, these same people found the time, strength, and resources to establish a Croatian Catholic parish.

They did not begin by asking what the parish could offer them. They asked what they could build for their children.

On December 6, 1977, Archbishop Philip Pocock of Toronto canonically established Croatian Martyrs Parish for the Croatian faithful of the Peel region. The first Masses were celebrated at St. Francis of Assisi Church and later in the gymnasium of Mary Fix Catholic Elementary School. Construction of the church and pastoral centre began in June 1979 and was completed before the end of that same year. On July 6, 1980, the church was blessed by Croatian Cardinal Franjo Šeper.

Behind those few sentences stand thousands of hours of work, meetings, fundraising, sacrifice, and prayer. Someone came to help after finishing a shift at work. Someone donated money that had not been easily earned. Someone cooked, cleaned, organized events, or visited Croatian families throughout the area.

The priest led; the people built.

That is why today we have a church in which to worship God. We have a hall in which to meet. We have a park, a parking lot, and room for children and families. We have a place where we can pray, sing, learn, and speak in Croatian.

We have what the first generation could only dream of.

Dawn Is Not a Return to the Past

At the beginning of September, the Church celebrates the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The liturgy calls this feast “the dawn of salvation.” Dawn is not yet the fullness of day, but it announces that light is coming. With Mary’s birth, God quietly began something new: He was preparing the coming of His Son.

Mary does not invite us to retreat into the past. She shows us how a promise received can open the way to a new future. She received the faith of her ancestors as a living gift, and through her “yes,” she opened the door to Christ.

Therefore, “The Dawn of a New Beginning” does not mean trying to return our parish to 1977. Times have changed. Canada has changed. Our families have changed, as have the ways younger generations speak, work, and communicate with one another. We cannot live on nostalgia or simply repeat what worked fifty years ago.

But we can rediscover what moved our predecessors: a faith unafraid of sacrifice, a love for the Church willing to roll up its sleeves, and a sense of responsibility for generations not yet born.

What Will We Leave Behind?

Next year, Croatian Martyrs Parish will celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of its founding. Such an anniversary can be marked with a solemn Mass, music, a banquet, an exhibition of old photographs, and grateful remembrance of those whose contributions deserve to be honoured. All of this is worthwhile and appropriate.

But our fiftieth anniversary must not become merely a glance in the rear-view mirror.

The finest monument to our founders will not be a plaque on a wall, but a living parish. It will be a church where the liturgy is celebrated with reverence, where children’s voices can be heard, and where different generations meet. It will be a community where the faith is handed on, newcomers are welcomed, the lonely are not forgotten, and responsibility does not rest on only a few people.

We inherited the building, but every generation must build the parish anew.

Our predecessors built walls because there were no walls. Our task is to fill those spaces with life. They raised money for land and building materials. We must gather people, awaken faith, form our children, and build communion. No sacrifice seemed too great to them because they knew for whom they were building. We, too, must remember those for whom we are now responsible.

A parish cannot rest solely on its pastor and whatever he is able to organize. The pastor can lead the community, proclaim the Word of God, and celebrate the sacraments, but he cannot be the community in place of everyone else. The Church is the Body of Christ, and in a living body every member has a place and a purpose.

Our patrons are the Croatian Martyrs. They gave their lives out of fidelity to Christ. Most of us today will not be asked to shed the blood of martyrdom. But it would be strange to bear the name of martyrs while expecting a Christianity that costs us nothing.

Perhaps our sacrifice will be time we had intended to keep entirely for ourselves. Perhaps it will mean accepting responsibility, beginning something new, helping another person, or persevering even when no one notices or thanks us. We are not all called to do the same thing, but no one should believe that he or she has nothing to give.

Preserving Our Roots, Building a Bridge

Our predecessors wanted a place where their children could pray and speak Croatian. We must preserve this Croatian Catholic identity. It holds the faith, prayers, hymns, sacrifices, and memories of our families.

But if we want to pass this inheritance on to future generations, we must find a way for it truly to reach them.

Some of our children and young people no longer understand Croatian well enough to receive in that language the full richness of the liturgy, preaching, and catechesis. Our community also includes spouses from other backgrounds and families in which English has become the primary language. For their sake, English-language ministry is part of our parish’s mission.

English is not the enemy of our Croatian identity. It can become the bridge by which the faith of our ancestors reaches their children and grandchildren. But a bridge serves its purpose only when people are willing to cross it. Those for whom English-language ministry is intended must therefore support it through their presence and active participation. At the same time, we will not preserve the Croatian language if younger generations are made to feel like strangers in their own parish.

We do not have to choose between our roots and our future. A tree without roots will fall, but a tree that no longer grows new branches will slowly wither.

A Year of Gratitude Expressed in Action

Preparing for our fiftieth anniversary gives us an opportunity to ask again what this parish is called to become. The question is not only what needs to be repaired, renovated, or improved, but what kind of community we want to hand on to the next generation.

Our parish picnic for the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary can become the first step in that preparation. Let it be more than a celebration marking the end of summer. Let it begin a year of gratitude: gratitude to God, who has guided this community for nearly half a century; gratitude to the Croatian Martyrs, who remind us that faith has a price; gratitude to our deceased parishioners, who placed their work and sacrifice into the foundations of this parish; and gratitude to the living who continue to carry its mission today.

True gratitude is more than a feeling. It becomes responsibility.

In the Gospel, the servant who received the talents was not praised for simply keeping them safe, but for putting them to work and increasing them. We, too, have been entrusted with a great treasure. We did not create it ourselves, but we are responsible for what we do with it.

Fifty years from now, when another generation celebrates the centennial of this parish, what will they be able to say about us? Will they say that we merely used what we inherited, or that we also built something worthy of passing on? Will there still be a community here that worships God, hands on the faith, and knows who it is? Will our Croatian Catholic roots continue to bear new fruit in Canadian soil?

The answer will not be written only in the future. We are writing it now.

Just as Mary’s birth was the quiet dawn of God’s great work, may this September become the dawn of our new beginning—not a retreat into the past and not wishful thinking about tomorrow, but a beginning born of gratitude, faith, and the determination to hand on faithfully what we ourselves have received.