For the last 30 years I
have attended the same church. But in the last 12 years, I have become
restless. Usually when I attend mass on Sundays, I hope that my soul will be
fed, and my heart will be touched. But for a long time, I have felt absolutely
nothing. I feel empty and alone during the mass and when I leave.
In a round-about way, I
found myself sitting in a pew at Sts. Patrick-Stanislaus Koska Roman Catholic
Church, located in Pittsburgh’s Strip District. The church is a landmark
church. It is a throwback to the old days when the church was the center of
people’s lives, with the beautiful paintings, amazing stained glass windows, where
the sun shines through each, the larger than life statues that mean something
to the worshipers, and the imported marble used for the altars. This church is
a combination of two parish churches. I assume that besides the regular
registered parishners, a number of people who fill up the pews are those that
come down to The Strip to shop or eat.
The first time that I
attended Mass at St. Stan’s, I felt something. I felt as if I stepped into a
holy space. Maybe it was the total beauty of the church that reminded me of my
childhood parish, St. Patrick’s in Cleveland, Ohio. Everything was clean - the paintings, the gorgeous stained glasses
windows, each with a religious story, the smooth marble and the statues that I
am familiar with. I was touched by the sermon that Fr. Nichols, the pastor
gave. He delivered it in an informal way and the story was personal and he was
able to relate it to religion to make it more meaningful. I like the fact that
while he walked down the aisle or back up it, he would talk to individual
people or say something funny to make them laugh or just smile or just feel
good that they showed up for mass. Yet, during the time I spent at St. Stan’s,
I felt a spark or maybe I was touched by the spirit of God.
The second time I
attended mass, I felt as if I finally received a personal message from God.
That was the day; I registered at St. Stan’s. I have been faithfully attending
mass on Sundays, and I actually look forward to driving and going to church.
What happened? I’m not
sure but I feel that I was still enough to hear a message and all I can say
is…Thank you, God, for not giving up on me!
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