This week’s journey takes us to Germantown, and it’s not just because St. Vincent’s doesn’t have a lower church. It’s also because my mother, once upon a time, used to play guitar at mass there, a fact that I somehow only learned recently. Usually parents avoid telling their children embarrassing stories of drunken debauchery, but…guitar at church? Yes, I can see how that would be shameful.
Anyway, this parish is by far the most interesting one yet, and I’m not even talking about the church itself. St. Vincent’s is somewhat of an enigma, because it’s more charismatic than Catholic. That’s not to say it’s not Catholic, because it certainly is. It’s just not any sort of Catholicism I’ve ever seen. People congregate in the aisles. They hold hands. They gather around the altar during the transubstantiation. I had the good fortune to attend the Palm Sunday service, which involved opening the mass outside in the courtyard, and then marching down Price street in back into the church, all while singing and waving wooden sticks with flame-colored streamers attached. No, I’m not making that up. The whole thing is akin to going to church in the twilight zone.
The church itself is very, very unique. It strikes a crazy balance between holy place and library—or the east wing of a palatial estate. It's Italian-Renaissance in design, so there’s some beautiful paintwork, including some breathtaking murals on the ceiling. But ultimately it’s just not effective because the place doesn’t truly feel churchy enough. I mean, look at that picture—does that scream “church” to you? To me it doesn’t. It’s a nice old building, but that’s the problem—I should be saying, “It’s a nice old church.”
Size Rating: 7 out of 10
Ornamentation Rating: 6.5 out of 10
Design Rating: 6.5 out of 10 crosses
