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It's been an amazing three months for me. Since we've just celebrated Easter, I'm going to stay on the church mark for a moment and recap, for myself as much as for anybody, all the churches where I attended weekend Masses since January 1st, 2016. Relishing my newfound freedom of not being responsible for piano playing each weekend at St. Victoria, as I have for the past 34 years through December 2015, I took off. I took off to visit the neighbors, to enlarge my experience of the community and universal church. Of course, I didn't go alone. Now Allan and I sit together. I should have taken notes, because it becomes a blur when bunched, but that wasn't my intended mission. It only now becomes something to write about as I sit here and look back. All the churches had good music at their particular Masses we attended, with small groups of singers, accompaniment, and excellent cantors. St. Boniface in St. Bonifacius has a sanctuary that is riveting. The ornate, high, very white traditional altar piece is caught up against the beautiful blue painted sky wall and rays of light that seem to emanate from the tabernacle. A statute of St. Boniface is at the peak of the altar piece, right below the cross. It's not a large church, but attractive, fresh, and well done. Everybody was familiar with everybody else. Guardian Angels in Chaska reminds me of the song, "Coat of Many Colors." The large traditional interior, strong and healthy, goes from pastels to deep hues, from orange, blue, and green to dark magenta in side altars. People also wore coats of many colors. The largest angel statue is at the peak of the altar piece, right below the cross. The old friary on the church block reminded me of the many Franciscans no longer with us. I also fondly recalled their cook, Leota Fiebelkorn. St. John's in Excelsior was above average friendly, both coming in and going out. Large, warm, wooden beams stretch in various angles across and through the spacious church interior. I tried to figure out which were giving greatest support to the peak roof and wood ceiling and why the beams crisscrossed as they do. This church building can't be much over 50 years old. St. Nicholas in Carver is a tiny old church, and it's sort of like sitting in someone's living room, with an archway that reminded me of the archway between the living room and dining room where I grew up. A statue of St. Nicholas is at the top of the main altar piece, right under the cross. We were told about a new project there, a Prayer Garden Shrine, that is expected to attract people from the entire Midwest when finished. St. Agnes in St. Paul puts me in touch with my childhood, when I could recite the Latin responses as well as the altar boys, and maybe knew the translation better than the altar boys. The priest and the people face in the same direction here, everyone toward God in the tabernacle, which is front and center. I can still sing from memory the Kyrie, the Gloria, the Sanctus, the Pater Noster, and the Agnus Dei. Much of the faith here is visible as well as audible. St. Hubert's in Chanhassen works to engage the congregation in singing and activity. Greeters were posted in at least four locations between the parking lot and the pew and they made me smile, which is always a good thing. Jesus on the cross looms large in the air above the altar. He's big and muscular like a pro wrestler, as though He's in the ring to fight for all of us. Our Lady of the Lake in Mound brings back memories. It's where Allan and I went to church after we were married and lived in Mound. It hasn't changed. I remember sitting in the cry room with our babies, even though our babies were not disruptive. It seemed to be the thing to do at the time and so we did. It's not an old church but what does "old" mean today? It resides on the shores of Lake Minnetonka. St. Joseph's in Waconia impresses me with its well coordinated visuals, pillars, and ornate traditional architecture, superbly maintained. It is peaceful to me. I was reminded of the big churches in Ghent and Minneota, where I grew up in a rural setting of hardworking people who built grand churches and took care of them. God took care of the people in return. The Cathedral of St. Paul in St. Paul is, well, a cathedral. It reflects St. Peter's in Rome. It is majestic, huge, phenomenal in design, art, and architecture, through which the faith looms large. Who is it that said, "Teach, and sometimes use words." You can't take it all in. Most of the time you focus on what's going on upfront. I can hardly believe I got to play the piano here for confirmations in past years. The Basilica of St. Mary in Minneapolis is my favorite. We hit a Sunday when the music in the choir loft was provided by a professional and reverent group of men who sang a capella. It was inspirational, godly, other worldly. After Mass, we took part in a short tour. I showed Allan where I played the piano when the St. Victoria Choir was also asked to sing here. And then we were back at St. Victoria on Palm Sunday, March 20th, with our son Nick and his family. It was good to sit with them in the pew, and to be home. |
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From the Editor |
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Dedicated to the sunshine of truth, the moonshine of meeting deadlines, and the starshine of Victoria. |
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The Victoria GAZETTE |
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Sue’s Album A symphony of photos and fewer than a thousand words at www.VictoriaGazette.com |
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April 2016 |
