St. Benny's sits right on the street, 17th Street to be exact, in the middle of a residential neighborhood. It always strikes me as funny to see these huge churches as, literally, someone's next door neighbor. We easily found a parking spot on the street in front of the church, but a parking lot is also available behind the church, off of 16th.
I wasn't surprised to learn that St. Benedict's physical church is over 100 years old (the parish itself is celebrating its 125th anniversary this year - big celebration next week), but I was surprised by its outstanding condition. I'm not sure how much of the church is original anymore, but I loved it. The color scheme is gorgeous. Earth tones of brown, beige, gold, and ivory with just a few touches of green are complemented by marble and beautifully gilded sculptures and adornments. Nothing strays from these colors - not the stained glass windows, not the painted details, not the wooden or carpeted flooring, not even the tablecloth on the altar. FINALLY, SOMEONE GOT IT RIGHT, and the result is elegant. Clean, crisp lines and classy moderation make everything about St. Benedict's simply beautiful.
On the flip side, the mass itself wasn't anything to write home about. Standard. Oh, good - another sermon on stewardship, a point stressed so heavily that forms and pencils were distributed before the end of mass for everyone to indicate which activities they would like to participate (or "continue to participate") in at the parish. Hmmm. Kind of heavy-handed there, don't you think? I found the high-pressure sales tactics a bit awkward. When a little girl collected the still-blank forms from me and My Husband the Heathen, I could see the look of confusion on her face. Her brief hesitation confirmed what I knew she was thinking: "They didn't fill it out. What should I do? Should I tell them?" With my own selfish sigh of relief, she continued on, bless her heart.
A huge pipe organ loomed in the balcony. It was used sparingly during mass which was a shame since the woman playing it was much more adept at the organ than she was at the rather rinky-dink piano. I never understand why, when churches have these amazing instruments at their disposal, they so reluctantly use them. I don't get it. Just once I want to hear somebody really let loose and wail on one of these things.
All in all, it was a pleasant visit on a beautiful day although the ride home wasn't without its share of drama. I had managed to get us to St. Benedict's with no problem via the main drag, i.e., Madison Avenue. Mr. Wonderful, on the other hand, managed to take us through the "sketchier" parts of Covington on the way home. "Uh, honey? . . . Where are we?" I swear he does it on purpose.
ATTENDANCE: One-fourth full
DURATION: 55 minutes
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