10:00 Sunday morning mass. St. Clare Chapel at the convent of the Franciscan Sisters of the Poor. Remember me? Your friendly local church tourist? Okay. Okay. So it's been a while since my last post . . . a while as in "two and a half years." TWO AND A HALF YEARS?!?! Good lord. That's . . . awkward.
Truth is: 1. The remaining churches on The List aren't exactly around the corner any more. Factor in a 45-minute drive to a church, a one hour mass, and 45 minutes to drive home, and well, The List takes a backseat to other priorities. 2. I developed a strong affinity to one particular church close to my home. Other than saying that said church is not the parish I'm registered with, said church shall remain nameless. In short, for these past few years, you can find me at mass there almost every weekend and often during the week. It's small, it's reverent, it's nice. I was never "looking" for a church when I started this whole thing, but ironically, I found one, and now, well, I hate to leave it - but leave it I did this past weekend.
When I left off in February of 2013, I had visited 99 churches. NINETY-NINE, and that 99 has been hanging over my head taunting me ever since. Thus, this past Sunday became the day to jump in the Mighty Honda Odyssey (one last time before it's imminent departure, by the way) and take this thing into triple digits. Mission accomplished at St. Clare Chapel.
Built in 1895, St. Clare Chapel is located on the grounds of the convent for the Franciscan Sisters of the Poor - 35 acres on the border of Hartwell and Wyoming. It's peaceful and quite lovely there, what one might expect for the home of a religious order but definitely not what one would expect given its location. The 10:00 mass on Sunday is open to the public, i.e. yours truly, and the chapel is located only 25 minutes from my house; ergo, this was the perfect opportunity to break 100.
The chapel itself is quite pretty - baby blue walls accented with white arches, painted angels floating in the dome above the altar, large mosaics (I think - hard to tell from a distance) of both Saint Francis and Saint Clare. Sidenote: The image of Saint Francis had the letters "P" and "J" at the bottom; the image of Saint Clare had the letters "F" and "T." What's up with that?
It was a nice mass. An older priest kept things going at a brisk pace, so much so that by the closing prayers, he was putting in his two cents before the congregation had finished saying theirs. Music, on the other hand, was a bit of a shocker. The organist was quite good at just that - playing the organ, but his vocal style was . . . different. As the first lines of the opening hymn were sung, I initially thought that we were speaking the words rather than singing them. It's hard to describe, so I'll just take the high road and stick with "different."
It was a fairly well-heeled crowd at St. Clare Chapel and slightly reminiscent of those attending mass at Saint Anthony's Friary on Colerain Avenue, although I'm still not sure about the guy in the brand new denim overalls over a golf polo. Whatever. Meanwhile, for the first time in all of my visits, I was called out for sitting in one of the regular's seats. Yes, I'm sure I've done it before, but this week, I was actually called out on it! I was politely asked to move over for an older couple, and yes, they were most definitely regulars - this guy knew EVERYONE and spent every minute before mass socializing with them. It was one of his friends behind me who had asked me to move. Oh, I didn't care a bit - they were a sweet couple - the woman unable to make the walk to receive communion, the mister bringing it back to the pew for her. Cute.
I don't know how many sisters reside at the convent. I immediately met one sister outside taking her dog for a walk. Inside, there were maybe a dozen or two in attendance at the mass. Several took active roles - lectors, communion distributors, etc., but most were simply in the congregation. The left side of the chapel was comprised of individual chairs, rather than pews, and it was there that many of the older and infirm sisters could be found. They didn't stand; they didn't kneel; they sat, but I like to think they participated in the mass just as actively as the rest of us. One sister had a blanket on the chair in front of her - clearly, that was her "regular seat." I saw a nursing aide help bring one sister in. I'm not sure if the others had required similar assistance as they were already there when I came in. Maybe they're just there all the time - after all, no one seemed to be leaving when mass was over. The walkers and rollators (or "little engines that could" as my children refer to them) were double-parked. The sensible shoes were running rampant. A few wore their habits, veils bobby-pinned in place. When in line to receive communion, I caught a glimpse of a few sisters at the front wearing headphones (over their veils) to better hear the mass. Man, I love these ladies.
I was rather dismayed to recently read an article in the local newspaper putting the number of parishes in the Archdiocese of Cincinnati at 211 (plus an additional 47 in the Covington diocese). Dang. Here I thought I was doing so good hitting 100! Nonetheless, the St. Clare Chapel was the perfect place to make my 100th church visit. Ironically, the "Centennial Barn" can be found on the same grounds, a beautifully restored barn used for various events and, quite frequently, wedding receptions. I'll definitely be back for mass at St. Clare Chapel, and as for the blog, I'll probably be back here too. To be honest though, finding myself fairly content on Sunday mornings and without that "99" hanging over my head, it might very well be another two and a half years.
ATTENDANCE: Minimal, but comfortably full for the size of the chapel.
DURATION: 40 minutes.
