In response to my blog post about my beautiful church, my mentor/blogger "friend" Webster Bull has thrown down the gauntlet (or to mix metaphors, lost a few marbles) by claiming that his church is not only more beautiful than mine, but "the most beautiful church in the world."
People, clearly he is wrong wrong wrong. For proof, he puts up a photo of the interior of his church, and compares it to the exterior of mine.
Hrumph.
Here is the inside of my church, Webster.
So there.
p.s. Oh, and I am not above having my readers email me interior shots of their churches, just to really puncture Webster's delusions.
People, clearly he is wrong wrong wrong. For proof, he puts up a photo of the interior of his church, and compares it to the exterior of mine.
Hrumph.
Here is the inside of my church, Webster.
So there.
p.s. Oh, and I am not above having my readers email me interior shots of their churches, just to really puncture Webster's delusions.
um, I would… except that our church was built as a gym with the promise that we would be able to build a church later. Later, the Archdiocese would only approve building another gym. We are gearing up to build a church now, so maybe I'll send a shot in ten years, lol.
ReplyDeleteOh I know the gym converted into a church business. The "Little Church" of my childhood still exists but most worship now happens up the hill, in the church that will forever remind me of a gym. I still remember the lines for the basketball courts and the baskets hanging horizontal to the ceiling. God is everywhere!
DeleteOur church was originally a labor hall. Then it burned down in 1919. When there was finally money to rebuild, the stock market crashed. We've been in the basement ever since.
ReplyDeleteIf I had pictures to show, I'd use the ones that show the people gathered for liturgy: the man from L'Arche with his helmet on who is part of every procession, the 4 year old and her 1 year old brother learning sign, the baby in the communion line held by someone who insisted Mom needed a break, the street people who came in for hot coffee and stayed for the singing, the families made up of in-laws, ex-es, formers, and hangers on. You'd see the Jesuit Volunteers, present and past, all willing to be "ruined for life." I'd show you the children who know this place is theirs, and the teenagers who are delighted to be our representatives at a migrant project every summer.
I'd show the baptismal font surrounded by huge broken rocks and point out the mended cracks in the terrazzo floor that somehow speak of a community that knows its own brokenness and celebrates God-with-us. And I'd show you a congregation that welcomes baptisms, first communions, confirmations, weddings, anniversary blessings, and the newest catechumens with equal enthusiasm and not a whisper of "Geeze, not again. This mass is going to be soooo long."
The building? Eh. But the community? There's the treasure.
Wow Shannon! I need to visit that community one day!
Delete