A place for friends to meet... with reflections on politics, history, art, music, books, morals, manners, and matters of faith.
A blog by Elena Maria Vidal.
Saint Peter's stands like a mother hen over our neighborhood. From my library window across the street, in winter, nothing is so beautiful as the moon on a snowy night transversing that steeple (the tallest church steeple in Philly). Regali visited over a year ago and suggested that the cheesey mosaic of Neumann be moved to the side and the Sacrament be centered on a covered-up altar behind it. God bless the new pastor who jumped at the chance to correct a most innapropriate design. Our humble little sainted bishop surely didn't want his image as some kind of pantakrator(sp?) behind the NO altar. Once again the chapel, which is open daily, is CHRISTOCENTRIC, and I can use it myself, without being uncomfortable, for the first time in the 33 years I've lived there. I get to go home (I'm T.A.D. here in Florida) for a week after Halloween, and for a week over Christmas. I'm looking forward to a cold evening, logs on the fire, cognac, and seeing that steeple from the window.
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Saint Peter's stands like a mother hen over our neighborhood. From my library window across the street, in winter, nothing is so beautiful as the moon on a snowy night transversing that steeple (the tallest church steeple in Philly).
ReplyDeleteRegali visited over a year ago and suggested that the cheesey mosaic of Neumann be moved to the side and the Sacrament be centered on a covered-up altar behind it. God bless the new pastor who jumped at the chance to correct a most innapropriate design. Our humble little sainted bishop surely didn't want his image as some kind of pantakrator(sp?) behind the NO altar. Once again the chapel, which is open daily, is CHRISTOCENTRIC, and I can use it myself, without being uncomfortable, for the first time in the 33 years I've lived there.
I get to go home (I'm T.A.D. here in Florida) for a week after Halloween, and for a week over Christmas. I'm looking forward to a cold evening, logs on the fire, cognac, and seeing that steeple from the window.