Enough with the bars, already
And the smoking. And nostalgia. All that sordid business. Let's talk about churches. I like them and I'm not sure why. I'm not a Sunday church-goer or a Saturday church-goer, or any kind or regular attendee but there are certain churches I like to visit. Maybe it's the art or the architecture or the particular history of the place or maybe it's the way they seem to stop time like so few places do. Well, bars do that too - but this is not about bars.
If you're driving into Milwaukee from the south, just before you get downtown, you will see on your left the Basilica of St. Josaphat. It's in a neighborhood that used to be southside-Polish but now is mostly southside-Mexican, but the church remains in all its glory. The last time I was there, and the time before that, was Christmas Eve and the church was packed and the beautiful organ played and all the people sang.
My favorite church in New Mexico is in the small mostly-Spanish town of Chimayo which is on the high road to Taos. It's called the Santuario de Chimayo where people come (especially during Holy Week when the roads leading north are lined with folks making their pilgrimage) in hope of healing their ills. The dirt there is thought to be blessed with curative powers and it's in the room off to the left of the altar. The room is small and is lined with crutches and candles and pictures and prayer cards and in the middle is el pozito (the little well) where visitors get on their knees and scoop out a bag of the healing dirt. I keep a small pot of it at home. I'm not certain I believe in its power but it makes me feel better having it close by.
If you're driving into Milwaukee from the south, just before you get downtown, you will see on your left the Basilica of St. Josaphat. It's in a neighborhood that used to be southside-Polish but now is mostly southside-Mexican, but the church remains in all its glory. The last time I was there, and the time before that, was Christmas Eve and the church was packed and the beautiful organ played and all the people sang.
My favorite church in New Mexico is in the small mostly-Spanish town of Chimayo which is on the high road to Taos. It's called the Santuario de Chimayo where people come (especially during Holy Week when the roads leading north are lined with folks making their pilgrimage) in hope of healing their ills. The dirt there is thought to be blessed with curative powers and it's in the room off to the left of the altar. The room is small and is lined with crutches and candles and pictures and prayer cards and in the middle is el pozito (the little well) where visitors get on their knees and scoop out a bag of the healing dirt. I keep a small pot of it at home. I'm not certain I believe in its power but it makes me feel better having it close by.
posted by Philip Dean Brown at 12:11 AM
2 Comments:
Have you been to the Joan of Arc chapel on the Marquette campus? Standing in a 15th century church in the middle of Milwaukee kills me.
both my sister and my father graduated from marquette and i went to my sister's graduation there but i don't recall ever being in the chapel. i'll have to check it out.
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