Most Blessed Sacrament
 
Status: Closed, Former Catholic

Founded: 1901
Construction: 1924
Closed: 2007

56th Street & Chester Avenue
Philadelphia, PA 19143

 
Where Is It?


56th & Chester Avenue in the Kingsessing section of Southwest Philadelphia.

The Skinny


Back when the Project visited the most excellent St. Francis de Sales, the pastor, Zachary Navit, recommended an immediate visit to de Sales’ neighboring (and twin) parish, Most Blessed Sacrament. MBS, he said, was a fine specimen of churchiness, and I needed to put it at the top of my list. His sentiments were echoed by the ushers, Harold and Usher X, who praised MBS as a mini-cathedral. Needless to say, the Project was intrigued.

After some research, I discovered that MBS had only three month’s reprieve before…drumroll please…THE BIG CLOSING.

I think you know what’s coming next…

Church Project Theorem #15: The Closer

You know, I never thought I’d accumulate 15 theorems. But it’s fitting that I do so with one of the most important ones yet, and perhaps one that plays the largest role (or it threat?) in church life: closings. We’ve touched on closings briefly before, most notably the Consolidation principle seen with another West Philly church, St. Cyprian.

Closings are an inevitable part of church life. They usually happen for two reasons—either a parish’s physical structures have deteriorated so badly that they are no longer safe (see St. Boniface), or, more commonly, a parish’s population has dwindled so much that it can no longer financially support itself. Of course, as physical deterioration is usually the result of declining attendance, you could argue that ultimately all closings are due to a disappearing congregation. After all, you don’t usually see vibrant, packed parishes shuffling off this mortal coil.

Closings can happen singly, or they can happen in bunches, as with the infamous North Philadelphia Swath of Destruction. A closed parish has one of three possible fates. First, it is the beneficiary of consolidation, in which other neighboring, failed parishes are combined into it. In those cases, it might get a name change, but at least the building stays in use. In the second case, it closes and sits idle until the end of time, rotting away as a broken, crumbling corpse. In the third case, the building gets sold to another group, usually religious, who use it for their own Godly purposes.

In this case, MBS will most likely get put up for sale, and only time will tell whether it follows the second or the third path. It’s quite a shame, too, since MBS is a magnificent church. The largely underatated exterior houses a breathtaking tan, red and white Italian-Renaissance design. There's also masterful mural work in and around the altar, and perhaps the finest stained glass windows the Project has seen. Any discussion of Philly stained glass artwork needs to include these specimens.

It has great size, great ornamentation, and hell, even a still-functioning organ. Father Navit spoke at great length about how buildings are only physical things, and the “church” is ultimately much more. Sage words, but it doesn’t completely dull the pain.

Philadelphia’s church stock has taken a big blow.

Size Rating: 9 out of 10

Ornamentation Rating: 9 out of 10

Overall Design Rating: 9 out of 10 crosses

How's It Doing?


This question is really moot, since MBS is, well, done. Its story, though, remains the same one we’ve seen time and again: old urban church struggles with declining attendance, regressing slowly and slowly until it becomes a Dead Parish Walking, awaiting slow and merciful death. MBS embodies that perfectly; it’s been twinned with Francis de Sales for the past eight years, and they’ve been planning the closing / consolidation for nearly 18 months.

What? Oh fine, but quickly. I’m already running too long here.

Church Project Theorem #16: Dead Parish Walking

As a way to stave off closing, neighboring parishes are often twinned, or joined together, to pool resources, save money and increase efficiency. In those cases, mass schedules are often reduced, and one pastor handles duties at both. It doesn’t always involve two struggling parishes; sometimes, a struggling one is pared with a more stable one. In this case, MBS was attached to the more prosperous de Sales.

Why, then, is it also called “Dead Parish Walking?” Because twinning signals that a parish can no longer make it on its own. It becomes, literally, walking death; alive only through the graces of the Archdiocese and its twin parish, offering few services, slowly creeping towards inevitable closing.

In MBS’ case, they were down to offering one Sunday mass. The church is in pretty good physical shape—in fact, in one of life’s little ironies, the whole place got a new coat of paint back in 2001, for it’s 100th anniversary. But Father Navit mentioned that they had chronic problems with both the heating and the sound system.

The closing consisted of a “Unity Mass,” between parishioners of both MBS and de Sales, as well as various alumni, former parishioners, visitors, etc. Action News even showed up. The Unity Mass was packed, but it’s telling that when Father Navit asked for current MBS parishioners to stand, only a small portion of the packed crowd did.

Emergency Rating: He’s dead, Jim

Travel Tidbits


You can’t go inside, but you can at least drive by and see the exterior before Father Time takes a crowbar to it. 56th & Chester is kind of a shady area, although there's nothing that should make you deathly afraid. As usual with shady urban areas, though, I would exercise standard caution and safety procedures. (i.e., don’t walk around with money sticking out of your pockets, and don’t come after dark.)

The church is not hard to get to, but it’s a fairly lengthy journey through the highways and byways of West Philly.

Safety Rating: 7 out of 10 tire irons

Interesting Note


The Catholic Church, believe it or not, has a “Rite of Leave Taking” that they do whenever a church is closed. It’s a pretty cool, though sad, ceremony where they go around and pray at various positions in the church—baptismal font, altar—and remove the sacred items, oils and even the holy water. Holy water? Really, do they think someone is going to start peddling it on the street?

The Final Word


A sad day for church enthusiasts. MBS was a fine church, and will be missed.


 


© 2007 Philadelphia Church Project