Faith beckons inner city

As Felipe Jimenez pushes the wheelchair carrying the Rev. Jim Swenson across the roadway toward St. Bridget’s Catholic Church, a cold blast of wind whips 14th Street and threatens to rip the “Jesus Is My Boss” baseball cap from the grinning priest’s head.
Swenson’s small apartment sits directly across from his church.
Down the street to the north, not far from the corner of 14th and Stewart Avenue, a bearded man knocks back a 40-ouncer while his female companion sucks on a tiny smoke.
Christmas, right around 11 a.m., near downtown Las Vegas.
The boozer, bottle in hand, staggers off with the woman at his heels.
At the same time, the closer the 79-year-old priest gets to St. Bridget’s, the wider his grin becomes.
“Merry Christmas,” Swen-son says, greeting early arrivals for the 11:30 Mass in the new church building. His broad smile hides the fact that complications from open heart surgery two years ago have left him so weak that he can no longer stand, that he must now undergo regular dialysis because his kidneys have shut down.
Parishioner Evie Kinney is exuberant, ecstatic that she will be able to say she was on hand for the first Christmas services in the new church building.
“This is just what the inner city needs,” she said. “This gives people hope that many better things are to come. It seems like a miracle.”
When Swenson arrived at the church in 1985, he was actually sent by the then-bishop to shut it down within six months because it had so few parishioners and was so financially strapped. Even though the sanctuary had room for just 240 people, it was only about one-third filled for Sunday Masses.
On Christmas Day, young and old filed into the new church that seats nearly 700 people. A mixed congregation of whites, Hispanics, African-Americans and Asian-Americans followed Swenson’s request to “turn around and wish everyone around us a Merry Christmas.” Masses are now held in English, Latin, Spanish and Tagalog, a language spoken by many Filipinos.
Some of the portraits in stained glass reflect the fact that this is a modern church. At the entrance is a colorful image of Mother Teresa. Inside the lobby is one of Pope John Paul II.
“It’s so wonderful that Father Swenson put people up that we can relate to in our lifetimes,” said parishioner Denise Truscello. “They are sure to be saints.”
Yet the second oldest parish in Las Vegas, established in 1945, appeared set to become a footnote in the history of Las Vegas two decades ago. When Swenson surveyed the inner city area and talked with devoted church members, however, he became convinced that the neighborhood, already in decline, needed the church. Instead of shuttering the church, Swenson remodeled a former apartment nearby and opened a chapel for perpetual adoration.
Instead of dying, St. Bridget’s grew, adding a chapel open 24 hours a day for people to come and pray.
“We felt people needed a place to pray in silence,” Swenson said.
According to church office manager Joanna Pollard, the perpetual adoration chapel was even popular with non-Catholics.
A Muslim man became a regular visitor. “He appreciates the silence,” she said.
Swenson also let parishioners know that they had to play a big role in saving the church.
“When I first came here, we were lucky to have collections of $700 a week,” he said, prior to the Christmas Mass. “Now we’re up to $4,000 a week or more.”
On the Web site for the project, Swenson, an accountant before he became a priest, listed amounts of money needed for various purposes at the new church, which he noted was going to cost a total of about $6 million.
Parishioners appreciated that he also found ways to help the poor in the neighborhood with food and housing.
“He is so honest, always helping the people,” said Maria Diaz, a member of St. Bridget’s for 10 years.
The more parishioners learned about Swenson’s life, the more they understood why he wouldn’t let St. Bridget’s die.
Born in Kansas City, he was raised by nuns in a Catholic orphanage. After serving in the Army during the occupation of Japan, he finished high school and college in San Francisco.
He worked as an accountant for the city of San Francisco before entering a seminary at the age of 40. He wasn’t ordained until he was 45. He served at parishes in Reno, rural Nevada, and locally at St. Anne’s and Our Lady of Las Vegas prior to taking over at St. Bridget’s.
“He wasn’t keen on what was happening in the church so he became a priest to do something about it,” said Jim Wiggins, a custodian at the church who also directs religious education at St. Bridget’s. “That’s just the way he is. He wants to get things done right. He won’t give up.”
After word got around about the priest who worked for the poor and gave Las Vegans a place for round-the-clock prayer, it wasn’t long before standing-room-only services became routine.
“Just because the area isn’t rich doesn’t mean people aren’t entitled to a lovely church,” said 80-year-old Dorothy Sullivan.
Swenson started praying about building a new sanctuary to replace the old one. Knowing he would need more land next to the old building but not sure if his church could afford it, he buried a statue of St. Joseph to help out.
“We truly believe St. Joseph helped us in building the church and purchasing the land,” said Joanna Pollard, office manager for the church. “In the Catholic church, St. Joseph is a protector and builder.”
Some “well-to-do contributors” whom Swenson wouldn’t name also gave the project a boost.
Two years ago, land was broken for the new sanctuary. Several months ago, the old church was torn down.
The 24-hour-a-day chapel is now part of the new church. Despite the challenges of the surrounding neighborhood, the chapel, which always has a volunteer on hand with a phone, hasn’t had a problem with vandalism or other criminal behavior.
“When you do the right thing, things have a way of working out,” Swenson said, adding that the only problem at the church was when someone tried to steal donations for the poor.
“The reason we don’t have problems here is that people feel the church is their home,” Diaz said.
Swenson’s humor in the face of stress has endeared him to his parish.
When he was sick in Valley Hospital Medical Center after his heart surgery, he answered calls from worried parishioners with: “Valley Hotel, how may I help you.”
“He just makes you feel good,” said Saundra Schaffer, who travels several miles to get to the church because of Swenson. “You see what he’s going through and people know they shouldn’t feel sorry for themselves.”
It is not unusual for Swenson to ask parishioners during a Mass, “Why are we happy?”
And the answer comes back: “Because we’re Catholics and Christians.”
“It is just something he taught us that is fun,” said Pollard.
For Swenson, having Christmas services in the new church left him particularly joyful.
“It was just a miracle that this has happened,” he said. “It’s just wonderful. I’m thrilled to death. I don’t know what else to say other than we will help even more people in the future.”
Contact reporter Paul Harasim at pharasim@reviewjournal.com or (702) 387-2908.