It is the story of the American church, and I do think Rich’s essay should be copied off and put on the tables in front of the bishops when they meet in the Baltimore Marriott Waterfront Hotel in November:
What I saw took my breath away. The view upon entering the church is stunning. Built in 1910-11, its style is Lombard-Romanesque, with a long, massive nave opening up to a broad, domed apse at the east end. You could spend hours "reading" this church. The top of the nave features nine ribs adorned with images of the angels, representing their nine choirs. The intact high altar and the nearby pieta date to the middle of the 19th century, having come from pre-existing churches on the site. To the left of the loft is a beautiful painting of a tiara-crowned Pope St. Gregory. Statues of the Twelve Apostles line the interior of the apse. When standing in this glorious space, one’s attention is inevitably drawn upward toward the gorgeous ceiling and the heaven beyond it. I’ve visited dozens of beautiful Catholic churches all across America. Peter & Paul is on a par with any of them.
One of the caretakers who led the tour told us that it was not until the 1960s and afterward that we learned that “church is about more than worship." But our tour guide’s forebears already knew that long before the 1960s. Judging by a dusty old bulletin from 1954, Peter & Paul was bustling with activity, from clothing collections for refugees to food drives for area families. In that same bulletin, parishioners were given "Ten Reasons for Daily Mass," warned to stay away from an offensive Jane Russell movie called French Line, and advised to consider attending the Rochester Oratorio Society’s production of Liszt’s Christus. And above all, at the parish’s school, the Sisters of Notre Dame took poor Italian-speaking children of immigrants like my father — he spoke broken English until he attended Peter & Paul — and turned them into educated, productive citizens. "More than worship" indeed.
The diocese was quite closed-mouthed about the new owners, and the answer is not as bad as it could be – in fact, considering the alternatives and the fact that it was, indeed going to be sold – it’s good.
But the questions Rich raises are so important: who did the diocese not even think of approaching about the church? And what about the neighborhood and the people living there?
The spokesman told me that in choosing another church to be the site of the new consolidated parish, the diocese cited the need to “avoid costly repairs and maintenance” so that scarce funds would be available to enhance other important diocesan activities. The diocese is doing wonderful work ministering to the poor in this troubled part of my home town. God bless them for it. But is not preserving beautiful treasures for worship part of the Church’s ministry? Do not the poor deserve beauty in their midst? I have no doubt that it would cost more to maintain Peter & Paul, but wouldn’t protecting this unique, indescribably beautiful church be worth the extra funds in the long run?
MM raises the point in the comments below of…what could be done?
Honestly, this is a point (like most!) we’ve talked about so often before. Not every old church deserves to be rescued, inded – some are not beautiful, and if a neighborhood has totally transitioned…you’re right.
But there are alternatives, particularly for a notable church that’s in decent shape. There are, as Rich points out, a number of Catholic institutes and groups that could have been invited to take the church, but weren’t – the example of St. John Cantius in Chicago stands as the model for this, as does, I believe the church in Chicago that the Insitute for Christ the King has taken. My own parish is not as large as this one, but the church is a gem, and stands, indeed, in a neighborhood that hardly has any Catholics in it. But…what has happened? The pastor is determined to keep the church as a treasure, has cannily structured liturgies that will attract people from outside the boundaries (that is…there is no nonsense. Good, simple, music. All is at the service of the liturgy, not egos. He preaches for no longer than 7 minutes. Etc. There is nothing else like it in this part of town…probably not in the entire city). AND he has taken a VERY active role in the efforts to revitalize the neighborhood, working with the city, other churches, and so on, to provide services (Head Start, elder residence) and encourages businesses to relocate and stay around. That is service to the poor, as is the retention of a beautiful old structure in their midst, the steeple reaching to the heavens.
I have no idea if the situation with SS Peter and Paul is comparable. But the point is that while we must live in the now (and I have always been a big advocate of looking at shifting demographics before we start moaning about the plight of the church in one area of the country or another. Oh…what’s happened to the church in the North East? THEY’RE ALL IN THE SOUTHEAST NOW. If someone magically provided the capital and personnel, you could probably open up one Catholic school per week in the Southeast and Southwest, and fill them up immediately.) – yes, while we must live in the now, there are some circumstances that cry out for a little creativity…and this seems to be one.
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