Blog 6: St. Monica Catholic Church, Mishawaka, IN.
During a summer with Notre Dame Vision, I took the opportunity of my “day off” (Sundays) to explore various Catholic Churches in the South Bend, IN, area. In an attempt to “branch out” from the obviously beautiful and reverent Basilica of the Sacred Heart, my adventures took me to incredible celebrations of the Liturgy. From a reverent, family-filled liturgy at St. Joseph’s in central South Bend, to an incredible Extraordinary Form liturgy at St. Stanislaus in western South Bend, and further still to a more communal celebration of the Mass at St. Therese, Little Flower near Notre Dame’s campus. However, one of the most visibly sacred Ordinary Form liturgies I have ever experienced was at an incredibly beautiful, traditional, and sacred space at St. Monica’s Catholic Church in Mishawaka, IN. While every celebration of the liturgy follows the rubrics of the Roman Missal, as Kieckhefer notes in Theology in Stone, “… the architectural setting is meant as a means for cultivating the disposition of reverence… One is drawn toward the holy in awe and wonder, and one responds to the holy in reverence… reverence is an orientation of both disposition and behavior, both learned simultaneously” (Kieckhefer, 101). The stunning architecture and decoration inside St. Monica’s led to a stronger forming of my experience of the ever-beautiful liturgy, strengthening faith and inviting reverence. In this short post, I will detail some aspects of St. Monica’s that stand out in particular, while offering some decisions I would hypothetically make if tasked with updating or redesigning the architecture of this stellar space.
Upon walking into St. Monica’s, roughly 15 minutes before Sunday Mass, my eyes were immediately fixed upon the tabernacle in the sanctuary. This is the way I think it should be. Theologically speaking, the celebration of Mass is a celebration of Christ’s whole Paschal Mystery. Thus, our gaze, attention, and reverence ought to be placed primarily to Christ’s Real Presence in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar.
Kieckhefer would certainly describe this church as one of “Classical Sacramental” type. The aisle is long to provide for processions in “experienced reality” as the “Neoplatonic theme of procession and return to God.” (Kieckhefer 27). Fitted with a couple side altars and shrines to various Saints and images of Jesus, one could imagine days past where private masses were often said in these smaller, more intimate outcroppings. Though certainly of no comparison to examples such as Westminster Abbey (in terms of processional length), the sight of four acolytes donning cassock and surplice, carrying a crucifix, thurible, and candles, followed by a deacon and a priest wearing ornate liturgical vestments, is a view of the festive return to the holy sanctuary where heaven and earth shall meet. Additional aspects of this processional, sacramental style are indicated by the centering focus of the altar (with a ciborium) front and center, with many stained glass windows depicting Christ’s life and the saints surrounding the congregation (and the aforementioned side altars).
As the procession makes its way to the sanctuary, the altar rail, tabernacle, altar, and ciborium, are now in plain view. The theological significance of the ciborium, steps to the sanctuary, rail, and relative separation of the sanctuary from the nave have been on my mind lately. Ciboria have traditionally been employed in “Classical Sacramental” type churches for centuries, indicating further the separation of a sacred space in the sacred church building. Historically, and evidently still in use for the Coptic Rite, curtains would be drawn, shrouding the altar physically from view of the congregation during the consecration of the Eucharist. This brings to mind the “Holy of Holies” employed at the temple of Jerusalem which, when “torn asunder” revealed the Body of Christ to be given to all. In such a significant way, this separation of the most sacred from the world further brings to mind the idea of Church Suffering, Church Militant, and Church Triumphant, from the narthex, to nave, to sanctuary. In a special way, I believe this “shroud” of the ciborium highlights in a sacred way the sacrifice of Christ at the Holy Eucharist and our invitation to approach the altar of God when our sins have been forgiven.
But we, the laity, do not reach the sanctuary during the celebration of the Mass, though, do we? The altar rail acts as a physical and theological separation, but also invitation, to the meeting of the human and divine at the Mass. Though not used every Sunday, St. Monica’s often employs the altar rail for the distribution of the Eucharist, with the faithful reaching Christ as the mediator between God and Man at the very place that heaven and earth meet. The altar rail, sadly removed from many classical sacramental churches, is a key location during the celebration of Mass, and certainly a principal aspect of this Church.
A Classical Sacramental type does not necessarily denote a lacking in community of the people or active participation at the Mass. In fact, every stained glass window surrounding the nave of St. Monica’s appears to have been donated through the generosity of past parishioners and their families. As is an unspoken Catholic tradition, I happened to sit in the same pew for three Sundays in a row that summer. On the third Sunday, when I had contemplated every other beautiful aspect of the interior of St. Monica’s, I looked up to the window of Christ’s passion above my pew, noticing it had been donated by the “O’Neill Family.” Probably no relation, but it felt like a definite God-wink to my place and invitation into this sacred space. Additionally, I noticed during Mass that vocal participation in hymnody and Mass responses were proclamatory and “visible.” The church itself has wonderful acoustics, so the responses of the congregation are certainly inviting and proper to the communal nature of the Mass… made possible through the wonderful architecture.
When thinking about what I would change of St. Monica’s, my mind kept wandering to the tradition of the Byzantine Rite (pictured to the left). The Byzantines have their own sort-of “ciborium”/altar rail separation, except through the use of the iconostasis (further seen in older Latin Rite churches as a screen between the nave and sanctuary). Though many movements of Mass are obscured by the iconostasis, the theological implications of what some would call a “wall of icons” is rich and spectacular. Reading from the Byzantine Archeparchy of Pittsburgh, the iconostasis is both a “mirror” and a “window” to the sacredness of the Mass. The theological idea behind this is that the saints, Mary the Theotokos, and Jesus Christ lead to and reflect the holiness of the Eucharist and the doorway to heaven (in Christ). This iconostasis is then a necessary and fitting image, physical separation, and spiritual pondering during the celebration of the Mass (or Divine Liturgy in the case of the Byzantines). I would love to see more use of icons in the Latin rite, though I’m not certain of the traditional prevalence of this. Certainly, though, the iconostasis and the curtains of the ciborium both denote the idea of the Holy of Holies and Christ as the New Covenant.
In reflecting upon my experience of church architecture and analysis therein, I am very much reminded that all parts of the church building serve an educational, catechetical, and theological purpose: that is to show the story of salvation to the laity. Many churches (like my beloved Cathedral of the Madeleine in Salt Lake City) show this story by way of ornate imagery and obvious references. With St. Monica’s, however, it is a bit more subtle and utilitarian. Altar rails, ciboria, physical separation of the sanctuary and nave immerse us into the idea of Christ as the Way, the Truth, and the Life. The One who meets us at the foot of the Cross and the foot of the Altar, and the One who, foretold in the Old Testament, is our pathway to Eternal Salvation. In the words of Pope Francis, “Every time that we participate in the Holy Mass, we hasten heaven on earth in a certain sense because from the eucharistic food, the body and blood of Christ, we learn what eternal life is.”
