Week Eighty-Three - Saint Gertrude (Madeira)
4:30 Saturday afternoon mass, St. Gertrude. I'm worried. My enthusiasm for The Tour is waning, and I know exactly what the problem is - I've nearly exhausted my supply of "showstoppers," the historically-architecturally-artistically significant churches that I always look forward to. I'm stuck in the 'burbs; ergo, I'm stuck with either mid-20th century churches that have been awkwardly renovated and/or expanded (or, worse, not renovated at all) or brand-spanking new churches the size of football fields but devoid of inspiration. Sigh. What's a girl to do? Drive to Madeira, of course.
When I walked into St. Gertrude, the first word that came to mind was "gold." Golden hues and metallic golden detailing are everywhere. The columns are gold, the pattern on the ceiling is gold, the light fixtures are gold, the pattern on the ceiling around the light fixtures is gold. The back wall of the sanctuary, a soaring expanse of dark marble, contains randomly scattered gold stars, natch, but more noticeably, on that wall, is The Crucifix. I write it that way, with capital letters, because this crucifix is an entity all its own. I think I can honestly and fairly say I have never seen anything like it . . . not necessarily a good thing.
The St. Gertrude Crucifix. It's scary; it's intimidating. It's . . . multiple cross-beams, each of which suspends two square golden plates . . . or engravings. I don't know. There are twelve of these plates, suggesting to me that there may have been one for each of the disciples, but again, I don't know. Extending from the vertical beam, between each of the cross-bars, are these circular . . . things. You really just have to see it. I tried to draw a picture of it for My Husband the Heathen, but even my drawing skills (or lack thereof) never could do it justice. I best described it to him as a cross (no pun intended) between a fish skeleton and the Dodge Ram truck logo. Pretty sure I'm going to hell for that one.
St. Gert's falls into my former category of mid-20th century suburban churches. It has its good points, including a large and quite beautiful side altar flanked by numerous candles and set before a large painted mural of a woman who I can only assume is St. Gertrude, and its bad points - disproportionately small stained glass windows set into the walls in something of a checkerboard pattern.
This is clearly a big parish (the bulletin numbered 16 pages), and the physical church itself is also large. This particular mass was quite full but not with the usual Saturday afternoon majority of seniors - all age groups were well-represented. The entrance procession seemed a bit silly to me when the priest, servers, and lectors emerged from the sacristy to walk half-way up a side aisle, cut back towards the center at a break in the pews, and head back to the altar via the main aisle. It seemed to me a half-hearted attempt at an entrance procession that might as well have been skipped altogether.
St. Gertrude is the site of the priory for the Dominican friars, both priests and novice brothers, or the "Order of Preachers" - "O.P." Now, the next logical question is, "What's the difference between a friary and a priory?" Research at the ready: As do a few other religious orders, Dominicans live in a priory. A priory is governed by a superior called the Prior. Franciscans, however, do not live in a priory; they live in a friary. A friary is a house of brothers or a brotherhood. Apparently, the Franciscans aren't too keen on the whole concept of a prior as it implies that he is the first. The Franciscans' "first and last authority is always the holy Father Francis." I love that. They do not have a superior as the Dominicans do . . . in their priory. Religious smackdown.
Yeah, they're big on the Dominicans at St. Gertrude. Dominican sisters staff the parish school. I like the idea of nuns actually teaching and working in a parochial school. A little bit of retro . . . a little bit of nostalgia.
ATTENDANCE: Nearly fullWhen I walked into St. Gertrude, the first word that came to mind was "gold." Golden hues and metallic golden detailing are everywhere. The columns are gold, the pattern on the ceiling is gold, the light fixtures are gold, the pattern on the ceiling around the light fixtures is gold. The back wall of the sanctuary, a soaring expanse of dark marble, contains randomly scattered gold stars, natch, but more noticeably, on that wall, is The Crucifix. I write it that way, with capital letters, because this crucifix is an entity all its own. I think I can honestly and fairly say I have never seen anything like it . . . not necessarily a good thing.
The St. Gertrude Crucifix. It's scary; it's intimidating. It's . . . multiple cross-beams, each of which suspends two square golden plates . . . or engravings. I don't know. There are twelve of these plates, suggesting to me that there may have been one for each of the disciples, but again, I don't know. Extending from the vertical beam, between each of the cross-bars, are these circular . . . things. You really just have to see it. I tried to draw a picture of it for My Husband the Heathen, but even my drawing skills (or lack thereof) never could do it justice. I best described it to him as a cross (no pun intended) between a fish skeleton and the Dodge Ram truck logo. Pretty sure I'm going to hell for that one.
St. Gert's falls into my former category of mid-20th century suburban churches. It has its good points, including a large and quite beautiful side altar flanked by numerous candles and set before a large painted mural of a woman who I can only assume is St. Gertrude, and its bad points - disproportionately small stained glass windows set into the walls in something of a checkerboard pattern.
This is clearly a big parish (the bulletin numbered 16 pages), and the physical church itself is also large. This particular mass was quite full but not with the usual Saturday afternoon majority of seniors - all age groups were well-represented. The entrance procession seemed a bit silly to me when the priest, servers, and lectors emerged from the sacristy to walk half-way up a side aisle, cut back towards the center at a break in the pews, and head back to the altar via the main aisle. It seemed to me a half-hearted attempt at an entrance procession that might as well have been skipped altogether.
St. Gertrude is the site of the priory for the Dominican friars, both priests and novice brothers, or the "Order of Preachers" - "O.P." Now, the next logical question is, "What's the difference between a friary and a priory?" Research at the ready: As do a few other religious orders, Dominicans live in a priory. A priory is governed by a superior called the Prior. Franciscans, however, do not live in a priory; they live in a friary. A friary is a house of brothers or a brotherhood. Apparently, the Franciscans aren't too keen on the whole concept of a prior as it implies that he is the first. The Franciscans' "first and last authority is always the holy Father Francis." I love that. They do not have a superior as the Dominicans do . . . in their priory. Religious smackdown.
Yeah, they're big on the Dominicans at St. Gertrude. Dominican sisters staff the parish school. I like the idea of nuns actually teaching and working in a parochial school. A little bit of retro . . . a little bit of nostalgia.
DURATION: One hour
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