Bishop William
Swing’s
Personal Reminiscence of Fred McDonald
Preface to the exhibit catalog
Remembered Light – Glass Fragments from World War II
The Rev. Frederick Alexander McDonald served at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, San Francisco, during the last part of his long life. In the midst of the Holy Eucharist, he would be in the sanctuary area with the duty of administering the wine, the Presence of Christ Jesus among us. Slowly he would walk up the polished marble steps on his way to the high altar. No railing. A precipitous ascent, especially on old legs. At the top he would grip a chalice full of red wine and make the descent to the altar rail.
Watching him on those daunting steps, I thought to myself, “This is vintage Fred. Adventurer, confident, resolutely on a mission, seemingly oblivious to danger, and moving with grace and thoughtfulness.”
Father McDonald was a compelling man. If the, then, Archbishop of Canterbury, Robert Runcie, was in San Francisco, he would invariably ask about his old friend Fred McDonald. I heard that an 80-year-old priest from San Francisco was going on an expedition to the North Pole. Who else could it be but Fred? All sorts of creative people would whisper in my ear, “That Father McDonald is certainly a fascinating person.” Vague rumors about his rare collection of stained glass made the rounds, but I never got the full story.
A fuller story is now available thanks to Remembered Light. It guarantees that something of the richness of this priest is written so that future generations might be exposed to someone who was everyone’s favorite dinner partner. That alone would make the book worthwhile.
A highlight in Remembered Light is the homily delivered to the Allied high command and broadcast live back to the United States on May 8, 1945, VE Day, following the declaration of peace. Chaplain McDonald’s short sermon celebrates the day joyfully. But before sitting down, he called the world to extend the liberty and freedoms gained from the war to all humankind. His witness that day was a clarion challenge that resonates louder today than ever before.
Long before the Civil Rights movement, the book shows, Fred McDonald opposed racism and prejudice. His friendship with Catholics and Jews reached across traditional barriers. Like the four U.S. Army chaplains from different faiths who went down praying together when the troopship Dorchester sank with nearly 700 soldiers in 1943, Chaplain McDonald was thoroughly interfaith-friendly half a century before interfaith relations began transforming religion in America. The freedom to live in a peaceful multi-faith culture, where all are respected regardless of race and religion, is our legacy from Father McDonald and others who paid such a high cost to prevail against Nazi violence.
Remembered Light is also a collection of artists magnetized by a story, laboring to give voice to the agonies of war and to the enduring promise of peace at the last. It is one thing to sit around the table with an old man who has a treasury of stained glass to accompany his pilgrimage tale of destroyed holy places. It is quite another thing to find able artists jumping aboard to give expression to the deep and universal currents which flow under the surface of very real war experiences. Experiences of a chaplain. Thus, a 20th century chaplain evolves into a 21st century chaplaincy of artists.
The final bonus of Remembered Light is that it points beyond itself to a place, the Interfaith Center at the Presidio, where the Main Post Interfaith Chapel has its own eloquence and where the McDonald Memorial Windows have found a home. Thanks to the stewardship of the Rev. Paul Chaffee and his wife, Jan Chaffee, the Chapel did not become a neglected second-rate religious museum when the U.S. Sixth Army pulled out of the Presidio in 1994. Instead it has become a vital site for pastoral offices, worship services, interfaith conferences, and artistic exhibits. Due to imaginative leadership from more than 20 different traditions at the Interfaith Center, we all now can enjoy Remembered Light - Fragments of World War II, Memories of a Priest. And we can see light through the very glass which the insanity of war could not obliterate.
The Rt. Rev. William E. Swing
Retired Bishop, Episcopal Diocese of California
President, United Religions Initiative