A Wagon Wheel Christmas

Week One Hundred and Twenty-Three - St. Ignatius of Loyola

3:00 Christmas Eve mass, St. Ignatius.  Well, here goes nothing . . .

'Twas the day before Christmas, and all through the house,
Every creature was stirring, except for the mouse (because the cat had killed the mouse two nights earlier - true story).
The girls were still primping, while the boys tied their ties.
It was nearly one-thirty!  Time for three o'clock mass at St. I's!

Down the road they did travel, just a mile or so,
Looking forward to the chaos of the matinee show.
The Odyssey purred as they pulled in the lot
'Til Dad squealed the tires to nab the last spot.

The church was a vision in Christmas-toned hues,
While the visitors sprinted and haggled and wrestled for pews:
"That's my seat!" "I want it!" "Why can't we all fit?"
"Where's Grandma?" "Where's Grandpa?" "There's nowhere to sit!"
Several rows had been saved for the religiously late,
But our gang got a seat! - It was Christmas Eve fate!

The children were lined up at quarter past two
For their "piano recital" which started on cue.
They tickled the ivories . . . some more than others,
Temporarily blinded by their photo-snapping mothers.

'Twas a sigh of relief when the bells tolled at three
For the entrance procession led by Father Saint G.
He led with "MY FRIENDS . . " and then started to pray,
Desperately trying to put Christ back into this Christmas Day,
But the crowd was distracted; they lined the church walls.
The children kept busy with trucks, books, and dolls.
The doors were propped open to let in a breeze,
When the temp in the church reached one hundred degrees.
A lost lectionary caused an awkward delay,
And a few screaming children drew looks of dismay.
"And also with you" could be heard loud and clear,
From the "faithful" who make it to church once a year.

After that, things went well through the final "Amen."
Joy to the world!  It was only four-ten.
As one mass let out and another poured in,
The annual Monfort Heights gridlock kicked in.
Nothing says Christmas like honking your horn,
There would be no silence here on the night He was born.

Truth is, it was perfect, making memories so dear,
(And so, I'll just end this ridiculous nonsense and say . . . )

Happy holidays to all, and I'll see you next year.
 

ATTENDANCE:  Do you have to ask?

 

DURATION:  One hour, ten minutes

Secrets

Week One Hundred and Twenty-Two - Holy Family (Price Hill)

 

4:00 Saturday afternoon mass, Holy Family.  Until I started this little project, I had never even heard of Holy Family Church, but this weekend, I pointed the mighty Honda Odyssey towards Price Hill and was delighted to discover a real treasure.  This is a church truly unlike any other I've been in. 

You won't find Holy Family Church on any of the main drags in Price Hill, that is, not on Glenway or Warsaw Avenues.  The church, the parish school, the rectory, and the gym encompass an entire block bordered by Hawthorne, West Eighth, Price, and Grand in a fairly residential neighborhood.  The original Holy Family Church was dedicated in 1884.  The current church, however, was built in 1916 at a cost of $175,000.  You won't believe what 175 grand got you a hundred years ago.  The building itself is impressive, but the artwork within is beyond comparison. 

In the dome above the altar, four stained glass windows represent the "four great sacrifices of the Old Testament" - Abel, Noah, Isaac by Abraham, and Melchizedek (I didn't know either) .  Additional windows in the church depict the five joyful mysteries of the rosary as well as other events in the life of the holy family.  Artwork completed eight years later, in 1924, includes an incredible series of paintings and trompe l'oeil - almost all of it on the huge dome above the main body of the church.  It was amazing just to sit beneath the dome.  Paintings of the twelve apostles along with the Apostles' Creed surround Christ the King at the center.  Between the center dome's columns, the eight beatitudes are included above portraits of eight additional saints.  Beautiful. 

I couldn't help but admire just about everything here.  The marble columns are adorned with gilded cherub faces looking down on the congregation.  There are symbols and references to countless doctrines and practices of the church everywhere you look.  The online history of Holy Family describes several things that I missed - the four cardinal virtues depicted at the corners of the center dome, the seven sacraments over the sanctuary dome, and paintings of the crucifixion, resurrection and ascension around the altar.  Two paintings at the front of the church have me stumped, however - one of a ship and one of what looked like . . . well . . . Alcatraz.  Curious.  The altar itself, although beautiful with its traditional white spires, was almost dwarfed by the magnificence of the rest of the church. 

The crowd at Holy Family was a mixed bunch as was the "choir."  One young girl, a few older women, a middle-aged man or two, and a white-haired senior gentleman provided adequate leadership for the hymns but a more notable amount of enthusiasm.  Judging by her animated singing, for one of the choir ladies, this was clearly the highlight of her week.  When the organist added her own personal touch to the closing song, "making it her own," it was both funny enough to make my daughter and me laugh but charming enough to keep us smiling.  We kept reenacting it for the rest of the night.
 
I couldn't be more sincere when I say, if you have a chance to visit Holy Family, do so because it really is something.  My Husband the Heathen hesitated about joining me for mass this weekend, but I promised him that it would most likely be "an oldie and a goodie."  We weren't disappointed.
    

ATTENDANCE:  One-fourth full

DURATION:  50 minutes

Make It Work

Week One Hundred and Twenty-One - Saint Ann (Hamilton)
 

5:00 Saturday afternoon mass, St. Ann. For some reason, everytime I think I know where I'm headed for mass, my plans change at the last minute. Exhibit A: This Weekend. With every intention of heading to Kentucky, I somehow ended up in Hamilton.  I know, I know.  Cue the jokes.  Anyhoo . . .  
     

My husband and I found St. Ann Church with little difficulty as it, like every other establishment of any worth in Hamilton(!), lies on Pleasant Avenue.  The few times I've been to Hamilton have always been via the same route - north on Hamilton/Pleasant Avenue. It's a drive that cracks me up everytime, mainly because of its countless small businesses. It's so much fun just to read their names aloud, and seeing that the "DOG KENNEL" I had passed on other trips was, in fact, actively selling Christmas trees this time really made the trip.  
     
St. Ann's parish was organized in 1909 to serve a growing population in Lindenwald, just south of Hamilton.  The current church, the second for the parish, was consecrated in 1938, and it really is beautiful.  The rich, warm interior colors of the church are possibly the best I've seen.  Indiana limestone dominates the structure, but even more impressive woodwork can be found everywhere - the back of the altar (the "reredos" - who knew?), the organ screens, the side chapels.  The tall, narrow stained glass windows at St. Ann really aren't my style, but these particular windows are striking in the predominance of blues, greens, and grays.  The stations of the cross are carved into one-inch slabs of limestone and blend in beautifully with the walls to which they are affixed.  An incredible amount of detail can be found on the ceiling.  Only after reading the online history of the church did I find out that this detail is, in fact, the Apostles' Creed.  As I approached the altar to receive communion, I was struck by the beauty of the sanctuary - a black and white tiled floor, ornate carpeting, and, oh-that-woodwork.  It's . . . well . . . breathtaking. 

Fortunately, the beauty of the church wasn't dampened by a ho-hum mass.  I had high hopes for a big, bad organ in the balcony of St. Ann, but no such luck.  At this mass, it was a standard upright and hymns I had never heard of.  Apparently, no one else had heard of them either as there was very little participation during the mass from the congregation.  A rosary being prayed before mass got a bigger response. 
  
The celebrating priest bore an uncanny likeness to Tim Gunn, a likeness I couldn't ignore for the duration of the mass.  I adore Tim Gunn, but thankfully, this priest's mannerisms only mimicked Tim when it came to adjusting his wire glasses.  How odd, however, to hear a voice other than Tim's coming out of a body that so closely resembled his.  

"This worries me . . . "

ATTENDANCE: Two-thirds full 

DURATION:  55 minutes

Tour Detour

Week One Hundred and Twenty - The Spirit of Christmas

Off The Tour this week, which isn't to say that I didn't go to church.  On the contrary, I did go to church - several of them, in fact.  I was lucky enough this week to win two tickets to The Spirit of Christmas Tour offered by American Legacy Tours.  Offered on selected Saturday mornings in December, this particular tour is a two-hour stroll through the Gateway Quarter of Over-the-Rhine, highlighting a few of the many churches there.  The perfect weather on Saturday and our open schedule made it a no-brainer for me and my husband to put our winnings to good use, and what a treat it was! 

Among the active parishes our group visited were the First Lutheran Church on Race Street (where I got to ring the church bell!), Nast Trinity United Methodist Church,  Prince of Peace Lutheran Church, and Saint Francis Seraph and Friary.  Saint Francis definitely was the highlight of the tour, not just as far as the beauty of the church's sanctuary, but because the brothers welcomed us into their private residence.  There, we could wander at our own pace, discovering treasures around every corner - a miniature Dickens village in their dining room, a hallway lined with nativity sets from around the world, a room overflowing with Santas, countless beautifully decorated Christmas trees.  In a beautiful inner courtyard (Are we really in Over-the-Rhine?), we found a model train layout set up by one of the brothers.  Also outside, a nativity scene complete with live goats, sheep, and miniature donkeys was open to the public.  In between these churches, we also stopped at a few that have closed and are being restored and/or renovated for other uses.    

Beyond the physical beauty of each of these churches, however, the tour emphasized the spiritual beauty of what each of these parishes is doing on a daily basis.  Supplying clothing, food, prepared meals, and educational and legal assistance are just a few of the services offered by these good people.  Often struggling to stay afloat themselves - Prince of Peace has only nine registered members, these churches truly are an inspiration in the work they do in an area so desperate for it.  The title of the tour couldn't be more appropriate. 

Hopefully back on track next week.  Until then, I'll leave you with this unbelievable little gem learned on the tour - the traditions of Hanukkah started in Cincinnati.  Google it.  It's true.

"And also with . . . your spirit"

Week One Hundred and Nineteen - St. John the Evangelist (West Chester)
 

11:30 Sunday morning mass, St. John the Evangelist.  I didn't expect to end up at St. John this week.  Quite frankly, I didn't expect to end up at any church remaining on The List, but an errand in West Chester and a purchase return at Tri-County Mall created the perfect opportunity for a visit. 

My first glimpse of St. John's church confused me.  Not only did the strip mall colors and design throw me, so did the size.  From the outside, St. John looked surprisingly small.  What gives?  Aren't we in West Chester - the land of plenty?  Yyyyyes, we are! Not to fear - the fog immediately lifted as I entered the church.  Passing through the welcoming space, I found - wait for it - a coliseum.  Shocking, I know.  Rows and rows of pews, arranged in a complete circle, gradually slope downward towards the altar.  The ceiling soars to a point centered above the altar, creating a worship space in the shape of, for lack of a better description, an upside-down cut diamond.  If nothing else, it's a spacious church.  

Beyond the vast expanse of space, however, there isn't much to see at St. John.  A few squares of monochromatic stained glass seem to have been added as an afterthought.  Several relief sculptures on the walls are somewhat interesting, only because they are so large and so . . . unusual.  Kneelers were non-existent.  A huge pipe organ can't be missed but, unfortunately, wasn't put to use at this mass.  In recognition of the first week of advent, a series of purple banners hung from a ring suspended high above the altar.    

Not a great photo this week. I'd like to blame a gray morning of persistent rain, but it was more likely due to the fact that my daughter and I arrived with minutes to spare - just like everyone else. We may not have gotten the perfect shot, but we did get a seat, which, in West Chester, is saying something.  This particular mass was packed, with many of those in attendance flooding through the doors at the very last minute.  The size of the church and the large number in attendance created the standard suburban mass experience, one that was cold and detached.  I definitely felt more like a spectator than a participant.  Others around me must have resigned themselves to the same fate as very few joined in the singing.  The congregation seemed so removed from the mass that many sat with their arms stretched out over the back of their pew.  It was as if they were just kickin' back, watching the mass from the comfort of their living room sofa.  Others were clearly just putting in their time.  The woman in front of me was lounging in her seat just as I described but was also tapping her nails on the back of the pew for the duration of the priest's homily, her casual demeanor betrayed by an underlying impatience that was both visible and audible - but mostly annoying. 

Ironically, almost everyone did follow along with the little red booklets distributed at the doors as this was the first week for the implementation of "The New Roman Missal."  Let's just say, in the words of the celebrating priest, "It's gonna take a while."  Most of the congregation's spoken responses came over loud and clear - with a majority falling back into old habits.  It was a bit awkward.  I have to be honest; in spite of my own conscious efforts to keep up, I too let one or two old-school "And also with you" responses slip out.  

 

I just read that Covington's bishop has decreed that parishioners should not hold hands during the praying of the Our Father.  I'm not a hand-holder to start with, but I'm sure this is going to have a number of folks all riled up.  Old habits die hard, and I'm pretty sure this one won't go down without a fight.

ATTENDANCE:  Comfortably full

DURATION:  One hour