Our lovely little church is in the early days of a restoration project that will probably take a long time to complete. The building is old, but not as old as the parish — a parish comprised of people who have lived in this community for many generations and passed their faith to subsequent generations, and newcomers like me who are drawn equally to the beauty of the area and its fascinating history.
The building is in disrepair and in need of some TLC. Luckily, it is structurally sound. It has good bones. A strong foundation. Although the number of parishioners has dwindled over time — some moving away, many dying after having lived full lives here, and still others who have slowly fallen away from the faith in which they were raised — this iconic building has stood, and continues to stand.
The church is in the heart of the community, but the Church is the community, the people, the faithful, the believers who gather weekly to worship, to celebrate the Eucharist, to profess our faith.
Pastors have come and gone, but the faithful have been constant. They have been…faithful. And Jesus has been ever faithful to His bride.
I pondered these things as I sat in the shadows of an empty church. I didn’t turn on the lights even though it was overcast, opting to sit by the window. As I gathered my things to leave, I happened to look out the window and noticed the rough exposed siding that desperately needs to be sanded and painted, and became overwhelmed by the amount of work that needs to be done. I thought of our little parish but thought also of the Church at large.
As I started to feel dejected and sad at the enormity of this need, the sun peeked out from behind a cloud and illuminated the inside of the church just a little bit. Just enough for the statue of St. Joseph to come out of the shadows. Faithful St. Joseph, who didn’t leave Mary in her time of need. Silent St. Joseph, who listened to God. Obedient St. Joseph, who followed God’s will.
Powerful St. Joseph, Patron of the Universal Church. Pray for us.
