We returned to our old parish. It is such a beautiful, old German Church in the city. I love city Churches. Whenever I enter this particular Church I am flooded with memories of the baptisms and First Communions of my kids. I remember all those early 6:30 Masses where an older gentleman named Fran offered to teach my oldest two boys to serve and taught them so well.
I am reminded of Christmas Masses, Easter Triduums, and Corpus Christi processions. It only makes me more filled with conviction that yes, beautiful Churches DO matter. We are beings filled with five senses and we NEED these things to remind us of spiritual truths.
We can certainly pray anywhere...but here is where Jesus Christ has chosen to dwell in the Blessed Sacrament. And our hearts must come here to be quieted by the silent incensed air, the play of light from the windows around us, the sanctuary lamp lit.
This is where our hearts must dance with grateful abandon as David danced before the ark of the covenant. Every single Church is "the house of God and the gate of Heaven" in a real way.
I am filled with gratitude today for this wonderful old German Church nestled in an old unassuming city neighborhood. Truly a gate of Heaven.