Week Eighty-Two - Saint Teresa of Avila
4:00 Saturday afternoon mass, St. Teresa. I had been putting off visiting St. Teresa as long as possible only because it was the last of my "unvisited" churches within a reasonably close distance to my home. I had basically been saving it for that weekend when I wouldn't have time to make a cross-town trek for mass - as if there was going to be just one of those. I had also wanted to visit St. Teresa at their Sunday evening mass, something I always like, but kept putting it off because I was waiting for longer daylight hours to get a nice photo. Well, as they say, "The best laid plans . . . " Next thing you know, you're driving down Glenway Avenue on a Saturday afternoon.
I've passed St. Teresa's several times over the years. It's quite the landmark in West Price Hill . . . or Covedale . . . or whatever they're calling it these days. St. Teresa is situated at the corner of Glenway and Overlook Avenues, so I turned down Overlook expecting to subsequently turn into a parking lot. Fail. I ended up parking on the street which actually worked out quite well as far as making a quick get away after mass, but I'd still like to know if off-street parking does, in fact, exist. I might have to drive by next week just to take another look.
St. Teresa's looks big from the outside, so I don't know why I was surprised to discover how big it is on the inside. The high paneled ceiling, the long center aisle, the significant width really impressed me. What is this architectural gem doing sitting on the curb of Glenway Avenue? But more importantly, what is that little door and balcony on the front corner of the church all about?
St. Teresa's isn't particularly pretty, but there is something striking about it. The church interior (and exterior, for that matter) is predominantly gray, whether it's concrete, marble, stone, or limestone, I'm not sure. I immediately picked up on a Spanish vibe - after all, it is St. Teresa of Avila, as in Avila, Spain. There are arches everywhere - on the sides, in the windows, at the altar. Everywhere. I love the large lanterns on the side walls of the church more than anything at St. Teresa. They look absolutely perfect. Numerous stained glass windows depicting coloring book versions of the saints are interesting; I would have liked to have taken a closer look at all of them. Likewise, I spotted a statue off to the side of the altar that I wish I would have gotten a closer look at. There appeared to be a number of religious medals below it. I don't know who - or what - it was. A few other decorative items confused me though, namely, golden bowls (?) suspended at random intervals in the sanctuary, which itself was, unfortunately, the least attractive part of the church. A soaring, aqua-colored wall behind the altar, puncutated by odd, narrow stained glass windows was disappointing for a church with so much else going for it.
The mass itself was uneventful. A bit of Latin showed up occasionally which was a nice change of pace. I'm happy to report that, at St. Teresa, I actually preferred their piano over their organ. Piano accompaniment in a church is a tricky thing, and I've cringed over more than a few honky-tonk, rinky-dink pianos over the past year and a half. Maybe it was song choice, maybe it was the way the music director played, maybe it was the acoustics. Whatever it was was quite nice. I was hoping to see the much-beloved former pastor of St. I's back in action as he is now serving as pastor of St. Teresa. No such luck, although the celebrating priest seemed very nice. Maybe next time.
While searching online for a history of St. Teresa's parish (unsuccessfully), I did pause to read a bit about Saint Teresa herself. My favorite part was this: "Indeed, she [Teresa] was said to have been observed levitating during Mass on more than one occasion . . . If she felt God was going to levitate her body, she stretched out on the floor and called the nuns to sit on her and hold her down." Oh, the mental imagery . . .
St. Teresa's isn't particularly pretty, but there is something striking about it. The church interior (and exterior, for that matter) is predominantly gray, whether it's concrete, marble, stone, or limestone, I'm not sure. I immediately picked up on a Spanish vibe - after all, it is St. Teresa of Avila, as in Avila, Spain. There are arches everywhere - on the sides, in the windows, at the altar. Everywhere. I love the large lanterns on the side walls of the church more than anything at St. Teresa. They look absolutely perfect. Numerous stained glass windows depicting coloring book versions of the saints are interesting; I would have liked to have taken a closer look at all of them. Likewise, I spotted a statue off to the side of the altar that I wish I would have gotten a closer look at. There appeared to be a number of religious medals below it. I don't know who - or what - it was. A few other decorative items confused me though, namely, golden bowls (?) suspended at random intervals in the sanctuary, which itself was, unfortunately, the least attractive part of the church. A soaring, aqua-colored wall behind the altar, puncutated by odd, narrow stained glass windows was disappointing for a church with so much else going for it.
The mass itself was uneventful. A bit of Latin showed up occasionally which was a nice change of pace. I'm happy to report that, at St. Teresa, I actually preferred their piano over their organ. Piano accompaniment in a church is a tricky thing, and I've cringed over more than a few honky-tonk, rinky-dink pianos over the past year and a half. Maybe it was song choice, maybe it was the way the music director played, maybe it was the acoustics. Whatever it was was quite nice. I was hoping to see the much-beloved former pastor of St. I's back in action as he is now serving as pastor of St. Teresa. No such luck, although the celebrating priest seemed very nice. Maybe next time.
While searching online for a history of St. Teresa's parish (unsuccessfully), I did pause to read a bit about Saint Teresa herself. My favorite part was this: "Indeed, she [Teresa] was said to have been observed levitating during Mass on more than one occasion . . . If she felt God was going to levitate her body, she stretched out on the floor and called the nuns to sit on her and hold her down." Oh, the mental imagery . . .
ATTENDANCE: About half full
DURATION: One hour
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