Making It Count

Do you have a church you care about? Then get your butt to mass. Its future may depend on it.

It's five weeks until the annual Archdiocese attendance count. Given the premium they place on a parish's numbers, it may very well make or break a church's future. Probably the latter, but hey, hope springs eternal.

The Project can't do it alone, so mark your calendars now. We'll post another reminder closer to the date.

St. Boniface Pictures

The Project is still alive. Barely. But I did finally have a chance to sort and catalog the numerous St. Boniface photos that Project reader Henry Buehner forwarded.

If interested, you can see the St. Boniface pictures here. I actually added a second image viewer underneath the first one, so go to town. The pictures aren't of an exceptionally high quality, but they're still a very worthwhile reminder of a bygone era.

Enjoy.

Churches: The Next Generation

Project reader Terry Callen felt so strongly about the former parish of St. Gregory, in West Philadelphia, that she created a Facebook page for former parishioners. If interested, you can find it here.

It's an interesting idea. Social media, such as Facebook, is quickly becoming a standard collaborative tool. I've actually thought about doing something similar with the Project, but since our audience is usually the kind of people who have no idea what social media is, or shun it altogether, I haven't yet been convinced it's necessary.

I pose the question to you, though. What do you think? Should the Project branch out into social media? Facebook and the like?

Discuss.

St. Cecilia's Visition RESOLVED

Last month I posited the question, raised by Project reader Tom Lochhead, of the reason behind the name change of West Kesington's excellent Visitation BVM, which started out as St. Cecilia.

Why was the name changed? Tom provided one far-from-definitive answer, as did another Project reader, Donna Di Giacomo. Not content to leave the issue unresolved, Tom ventured to the Philadelphia Archdiocese Historical Research Center (PAHRC), and found the following:

I was in Philly yesterday and stopped by St. Charles to view the booklet produced by Visitation for its 100th anniversary. The following is from "Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary Church : A Century Together in Christ" published in 1974.

"On the fourth anniversary of the founding of the parish, Sept. 22, 1876, Archbishop Wood blessed and laid the cornerstone of the proposed new church which was to front on Lehigh Avenue" A Spiritually-Inspired Name " It was also at this time that the name of the parish was changed to Our Lady of the Visitation.

The reason for this change is said to be an eerie happening on one stormy night, after Father Barry had retired. He was awakened by his housekeeper who had said that she had heard the bell in the sanctuary ringing. He told her that she must have been dreaming, but she stoutly denied this and bade him listen. Sure enough, they soon heard the bell ringing with great urgency. Thinking there must be burglars in the church, Father Barry dressed hastily, took a light, and boldly entered the building.

To his surprise, he found kneeling before the altar two small, poorly clad children, their faces wet with tears, who seemed to have been praying. When asked what they were doing there at such an unearthly hour, they replied that their father was dying in Episcopal Hospital and that they had come for the priest to administer the last Sacraments.

Father Barry took the name of the dying man and went in haste to the hospital. When he explained his errand, the superintendent expressed great surprise. He said that there was a patient of this identity dying in the hospital, but that no one had been sent for the priest. Father Barry was taken to the side of a cot on which lay a man with a wan, wasted face. 'Who are you?' the man asked him. Father Barry explained that he was a priest and asked if he had sent for him a few moments ago. 'You are mistaken,'the man whispered. 'I did not send for you. I have no one to send - I am all alone in the world - I am dying' '

That is strange,' replied the priest, 'for I found two children in the church. They had rung the bell and they told me that their father lay here dying and gave me your name.' 'That is impossible,' gasped the man, pulling himself up in the bed. 'What did they look like?' Their appearance was described in a few words, and as the man listened his head drooped upon his bosom. Tears poured from his eyes and he tried to speak. At last, with great effort, he cried:- 'They were my children - the children buried - come back from heaven to help save my soul.'

With this, he fell back dead. Work progressed so rapidly after that, that the basement was opened as a chapel for Devine Service on the first Sunday of the following December. The dedication ceremony was performed by Reverend Cantwell, later Right Reverend Vicar - General of the Archdiocese. Reverend John J. Ward, Rector of Sacred Heart Church, preached the sermon. This dedication marked the cessation of St. Cecelia's Church and the beginning of the Church of Our Lady of the Visitation." Case closed!

Congrats to Ms. Di Giacomo for nailing it, although Tom's "urban legend" version was close to the mark. It's a somewhat fantastic tale, but the Project doubts nothing. There are more things in heaven and in earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

Also of interest to the Project is Tom's discovery that Visitation's unique side-step entrance, with front lower-church doors, is not original.

...the church was built with steps fronting Lehigh Avenue as depicted in the architect's drawing that I sent to you. Lehigh Avenue was dug out (lowered) to facilitate the construction of the Frankford El bridge over it. This necessitated the step change which was done in 1914 as per the marker between the doors of the lower church.

Here is said drawing, for your consideration.


I've actually seen a photograph that backs this up, but I'm not able to reprint it here. The drawing is close enough, though. I did wonder what the 1914 date was in reference to.

Church Alley Twinning Update

Project reader Bill, who's always an invaluable resource, forwarded the following excerpt from a recent Our Lady Help of Christians bulletin:

This pretty much confirms that the twinning between Church Alley's OLHC and Nativity BVM is official, and it also sets the table for the reduced mass schedule is that common at all such Dead Parishes Walking.

Random thought: if still-healthy St. Adalbert should happen to falter down the line, would the Archdiocese consider a three-way twinning of all the Church Alley parishes?

Perish the thought, of course. But these parishes have always been inextricably linked, and there's a sort of appealing poetic symmetry to the idea.

WIth any luck, we'll never have to find out.

More Than Just A Building

Image courtesy 44

A great item from The World According to 44 ;-), a blog dedicated to all things St. Joseph's University, Philadelphia, Catholicism and assorted other sentimental miscellany.

The blog's author, the mysterious "44", recently posted an excerpt from Philadelphia native Joe Queenan's new autibiography, "Closing Time," which recounts his life growing up in an East Falls housing project.

I'm not going to repost it here, since you can easily go there and read the whole thing. Go ahead and read it. No, really. I'll wait.

Done? Ok.

It's a very nice piece of writing by Mr. Queenan, but it also rings incredibly true. The Project has seen firsthand the way that parishes, particularly Roman Catholic ones, integrate themselves into the fabric of their surrounding areas. This endeavor is ostensibly devoted to old architecture. But these churches are not just nice old buildings. They're living history--of a person, of a family, of a neighborhood.

That's something Project readers have really responded to. When I get e-mails from ex-parishioners, it's not simply because they miss the soaring Gothic columns or expansive Romanesque arches or intricate stained glass windows. It's because of what the parish meant to them and their formative years. That's a bond that can never be broken. And that's why we go above and beyond a simple architectural survey. There's far more at stake than bricks and mortar, no matter how nice they are.

The Project tips its hat to you, Mr. Queenan. And nice work, Mr. 44. The Project doesn't approve of your love of St. Joseph's, but we wish you well nonetheless.

None of Us Really Knows Anything

To say the Project has been a learning experience would be the understatement of the century. I could wax poetic for hours about the lessons this endeavor has taught me. But perhaps the most important thing is this: when it comes to church decor, none of us knows anything.

Case in point: our visit to Our Lady of Lourdes, Overbrook's midget parish. I praised OLL for being classically beautiful, if a little small. All gleaming gold and pristine paint, it struck me as a prime example of a building that had maintained its traditional beauty through attentive, loving care.

Not so, it seems. Project reader Tom Dewees alerted me to a great section of their Web site, found here. It appears that Lourdes didn't always look the way it does now. At some point in the recent past, it underwent an extensive repair and renovation.

How extensive? Well, look at the pictures, one of which appears above. They're of a generally low quality, but they get the point across. OLL was a parish with some serious damage issues, and what isn't damaged is pretty uninspiring. Quite a shock, no?

It drives home this point: none of us knows anything. You can never be sure if a church's ornamentation is original or a careful reimagining. Sloppy botch-job Tabula Rasas are easy to spot, but some parishes do it right. And when they do, it's impossible to tell unless you have inside knowledge. In this case, OLL did such an impeccable job that a first-time visitor like the Project had no idea that the church didn't actually look like that 100 years before.

It gets me to thinking. What other beauties are hiding a renovated past?

No way to know for sure. And for the sake of sanity, just enjoy the present.

Mailbag 7

From the Project's overflowing mail coffers:

I enjoyed your reviews of a staggering number of churches in the area. I have a couple questions for you, mostly out of curiosity. St. Raymond's in East Mt. airy and Holy Cross, also in Mt. airy aren't included and I wanted to ask why. Ah! Also, no St. Madeleine Sophie in West Mt. airy, either.

I wanted to comment on your review of St. Vincent dePaul in Germantown. I'm guessing you attended a 9AM mass on that Palm Sunday. You commented that the worshippers were all Caucasian. The 11:30 is a diverse group and has a totally different vibe from the 9AM mass. Also of note is that the church is very welcoming to the gay community. Of further interest is the Face to Face program at St. Vincent's which serves hot meals to the community in need every Saturday and Sunday, staffed by church volunteers. The program is twenty years old. It includes a legal center and medical facility as well. I started attending mass at St. Vincent's on Palm Sunday, 2009. I cracked up reading your impressions of the service as I, too, was taken aback.

I attended two events at St. Vincent's many years ago and felt a big hit of passion when I was there.I didn't know what I was feeling, nit was new to me, and scary. As a half Jewish, half Episcopalian 'oreo', I didn't allow myself to feel that feeling until last April, when I gave myself a birthday gift of attending mass. On following Sundays I attended Episcopalian, Quaker, The Shrine Of the Miraculous Medal, and Saturday synagogue services. No chemistry. Not even the unitarian church where I was married and both my children were named, did it for me.I spent all the other weeks at St. V's, even giong on sat. at 5PM when I visited other houses of worship because I felt such a pull. So, last Sunday, I registered at St. V's and may convert. However, I was interested to read that that was like no Catholicism you ever observed. So, I'm nervous. I imagine I will be celebrating the Jewish High Holidays (probably) this fall, but it won't be the same.

I know these points aren't a big deal, yes, I too, am not from Germantown, although for years I did live there. Your website is fascinating, great reading, some laugh- out- louds ( I know that heavy incense at St. Clements!) and I thank you. Thanks for reading my thoughts.

Mt. Airy really suffers from the same strange problem as Chestnut Hill. Awesome old neighborhood with ridiculous architecture, except the churches. Holy Cross makes the cut, but St. Raymond and St. Madeline Sophie do not.

It's kind of easy to forget about St. Vincent de Paul, which we covered early in our tenure and haven't really brought up much since, Church Project Theorems aside. It's easy now to dismiss it, in retrospect, given our prolific experiences with like-minded Fat Girl parishes. But at the time, it blew the Project's mind. And some of what they did still hasn't been equaled in any of our trips. Marching down the street with wooden poles? Yeah.

That said, don't let them scare you off Catholicism, if that's the way you want to go. If you ask me, those kinds of parishes are the most fun, and you're far better off there than at some of the staid, boring ones we've seen. But as always, let the spirit guide you and make the decision that's right for you. The Project wishes you well in your journey.

St. Stephen

Hey all,

What's better than a Monday? How about a new church?

Yep, the Project got busy this weekend. Enjoy!

Just Who is the Northeast's "Mother Church?"

Another lovely item from the Project's mailbag, courtesy St. Dominic parishioner Eileen Myer:

Dear friend,

The reason St. Dominic Church is referred to as the "Mother Church of Northeast

Philadelphia" is due to its founding date, 1849. It was founded before the other

Northeast Philadelphia Catholic churches.

Most people are thrilled with its interior beauty. Stop back at Christmas to check out the lovely decorated church.

I appreciate your "Philly Church Project." I never liked cynicism. Love, Eileen

The Project doesn't care for cynicism either. We're hopelessly optimistic, even when confronted with churches that are less than stellar.

Our review of St. Dominic may come off harsher than it really is. St. Dom's is a decent structure, just not a particular exceptional one. It's not upper-echelon material, but it's nice enough, and certainly better than a lot of clunkers we've seen.

As for the "Mother Church of the Northeast" title, we understand the history behind it, and we didn't seriously imply any sort of a desire to see St. Dom's stripped of it. Our larger point was just that St. Martin of Tours is the best church, architecturally, in the Northeast. What you have is still good, though, and it's nice to see your parishioners taking pride in that.