St. Joseph Church, Maplewood NJ

Since the Southern Baron and I both enjoy being church tourists, we've had fun scoping out weekday masses at some of the parishes nearby. These pictures of St. Joseph parish in Maplewood are from earlier this winter, back when the sight of snow on the ground was actually a novel idea. Please forgive the iPhone blurriness - I didn't think to grab a "real" camera on our way out for diner breakfast food. (New Jersey diners are practically a religious tradition in themselves, but that's another story for another day ;)

St. Joseph was founded in 1914, so they're celebrating their 100th anniversary this year! The parish complex includes a 1930 brick school building, which is currently up for rent. The current church building dates to 1970, and its design is a good example of the way churches built just after Vatican II were a hybrid of tradition and modern style.

The exterior features simple modernist geometry but still looks "churchy" and pays homage to the patron saint. Brick and concrete are more affordable materials often used by suburban parishes trying to keep up with population growth. The chunky stained glass is rather abstract, but will get more literal inside.

The interior is also heavy on unadorned building materials. Heavy ceiling beams are often a prominent feature in churches of the 70s and 80s, lending gravitas with modernist simplicity. Still, the basic layout is not too different from a gothic cathedral; there are pews facing inward from the side "transepts," and a reredos behind the altar features the crucifixion. The tabernacle is still in the center of the sanctuary, suggesting that separate Eucharistic chapels hadn't caught on yet when this church was built. My overall impression of the space was uncluttered reverence.

The really unique thing about St. Joseph was its stained glass windows. They told stories from saints and scriptures with a contemporary flair. I really loved these scenes from the life of St. Joseph:

Betrothal of Mary and Joseph, then the angel visiting Joseph in a dream. 

One of the transepts featured St. Paul, St. Therese, and maybe Pope St. Pius X? Facing them were Moses, King David, and Abraham, uniting the Old Testament with the New.

Our favorite though, was this window about the papacy. We're pretty sure that's Pope Paul VI (the current pope in 1970) next to St. Peter. Note the papal tiara above his head, another tradition that still lingered. These windows show a parish aware of its place in the wider Church and in salvation history.

Five Favorites About Our Wedding

This coming Monday will mark the 2nd anniversary of the night the Southern Baron proposed to me on a train platform. It's hard to believe we've already been married for 8 months! It's also World Marriage Week,  (whatever that means) so I'll link up with Hallie at Moxie Wife and share:

5 Favorites About Our Wedding

I don't miss the stress of wedding planning at all. Long distance logistics combined with major projects at work and some family health issues made life an emotional tornado of stress. As the crazy memories fade, though, being married is pretty darn great, and we have lots of wonderful things to remember about June 15. The planning did pay off - guess it was an expression of our unique personalities after all. 

1. History nerdtastic readings

We really enjoyed being able to choose many of the elements of our wedding Mass, from the scripture passages to the propers of the Eucharistic prayer. It's not often that you get to be the ministers of a sacrament, so we wanted to be very involved. It was fun to sort through a booklet of liturgical options on the
drive back from our Engaged Encounter.

Many of the reading options are teachings on the meaning of love, but we were drawn towards actual stories that showed divine involvement in marriage. 

First Reading - Tobit 8:4b-8. The prayer Tobias and Sarah pray on their wedding night, asking for God's protection. 

Psalm 103. The Lord is kind and merciful for bringing us together. 

Second Reading - Revelation 19:1, 5-9.  The wedding feast of the Lamb places marriage in the context of salvation history. The Southern Baron decided this option was "the most epic ever." 

Gospel - John 2:1-11. The wedding feast at Cana prefigures the feast of the Lamb.

Fun fact: our homilist decided to explain more about the book of Tobit, including the bird poop and fish guts. Our little nephew Joe got very concerned about my sordid past when he heard father say "And so Sarah had married seven different husbands..." 

2. Our favorite hymns

We were very blessed to have several musically talented friends who served as our choir and organist. Keeping with the "epic" theme, we included some of our favorite hymns because they had powerful lyrics and dramatic chords. O God Beyond All Praising always makes me tear up, and the lyrics are so apt for marriage, marveling at God's blessings and trusting in His care "whether our tomorrows be filled with  good or ill." Lift High the Cross as our recessional was a shout-out to the fact that the Southern Baron shares his birthday with the feast of the Triumph of the Cross. I have a soft spot for Jerusalem, the unofficial English national hymn, for its connections to William Blake's poetry and the movie Chariots of Fire. Hearing it as the prelude right before I walked down the aisle was made me realize this is it! 

3. Having our friends and family in the ceremony

When I was a teenager I always thought it would be cool to have every priest I knew concelebrate my wedding. That's not really practical, but our Mass did have a lot of personal touches besides the wedding party. My parish priest is good friend of my family, and I even gave him a museum tour once! Another priest friend from the Southern Baron's former parish in New Jersey gave the homily. College friends and my sister-in-law did the readings. My youngest brother was an altar server. We even had our godchildren bring up the gifts - and two of them were in their First Communion outfits! That's like three sacramental references for the price of one.

4. Locations with interesting stories

Hotel ballrooms are places I associate with academic conference Powerpoint presentations, not fun parties, so I tried to find a more unusual event venue that wouldn't break the bank. There are many cute historic houses in northern Virginia, but I quickly learned that "just renting a tent" was neither easy nor cheap.
Our 1940s colonial revival style community center reception site was practically a providential accident. I drove through an historic town on the way to a when I went on a silent retreat just after we got engaged. On my way home on Sunday, I stopped to look around and get a snack, and noticed the cute yellow building. "I wonder if they do weddings..." After a little research we found out the building was affordable, available, and had a super nice staff.

Fun fact: later internet searches uncovered that President Kennedy and his family attended Mass in the Middleburg Community Center several times since there was no parish nearby yet. Eventually one was established since the Kennedys loved spending weekends in the Virginia countryside - it has a bulletproof cry room. 

 


5. Seeing the people we love celebrate together

Second line!

We grew up in different time zones, but somehow our far-flung social circles ended up in the same room. His parents chatted up my aunts over breakfast at the hotel. My childhood best friend and his sister compared notes about raising four kids. The east coasters and mid-westerners learned how to do a New Orleans Second Line dance. Two of my girlfriends hit the dance floor together wearing baby carriers. People from five different class years at William and Mary belted out the Alma Mater. When I looked across the room and saw his LSU pals and my St. Louis roommates building a pyramid of empty beer bottles, I knew the party was a success.

Being married to this gentleman and scholar is a joy and a privilege.
I love you sweetheart - here's to many more months and years together! 

7 Christmas Season Quick Takes

Happy New Year! And Merry Christmas too - if you want to get super traditional about it the Christmas season doesn't end until Candlemas on February 2. So don't feel bad if you don't get around to taking the tree down for a couple weeks. 

1. I've mentioned before how Christmas and I sometimes don't get along. Repetitive sappy music makes me stabby, and I'm weary of drumming up outrage for the annual  tradition of freaking out over the content of public decorations.
   Little did I know Christmas is my husband's favorite holiday. He's listened to annual my holiday rants without a peep, focusing on the Incarnation and patiently suggesting a few new festive activities each year. And it worked! As we spent our first December together, I found myself actually looking forward to firing up our Advent playlist and seeing all the decorations in the city.
   
2. That being said, Christmas caught us a little off guard. Oh shoot, we don't own stockings. Or lights. Don't you need a stand for a live tree? I really should have started gift shopping earlier. Fortunately buying a few strands of lights and a 3 foot artificial tree was enough to make our apartment look festive. Then my best friend surprised me with personalized stockings from Etsy!






Working in the development world means the December end-of-year fundraising push is about as busy as the finals season that stands between college students and Christmas break. I have new empathy for the employees of different charities who have filled my email account and mail box with their own donation appeals. Still, I am grateful that I work with a great team of people.  Especially when we take breaks by discussing how Queen Victoria basically invented the modern Christmas.

Even though we held back on full-out Christmas until Gaudete Sunday, I was very grateful for the onslaught of decorations in New York City that started even before Thanksgiving. Leaving work in the dark and cold is always depressing, so it was wonderful to have colorful lights greeting me everywhere. Even ugly old Penn Station. I really liked my friend Kelly's insightful post about how early festivity shouldn't trouble us too much - even the Blessed Mother celebrated Jesus' arrival before He was actually born! 

Outside the Stock Exchange after some frantic gift shopping at the Wall Street TJ Maxx
Christmas shopping crowds in the city were another story. While we didn't try to cram into Rockefeller Center for the tree lighting, we ended up tangled in the road closures and packed sidewalks anyway. But we survived, and it was worth it to attend a young adult mass at St. Patrick's celebrated by Cardinal Dolan himself! Seeing New York's archbishop in person has been on my bucket list for a  long time, and his down-to-earth preaching about St. Augustine did not disappoint.

Fun fact: my old Nicest Boss in the World in St. Louis was once a seminary classmate with "Tim." (Nicest Boss went on to be a happily married social worker instead of a priest.) I was pleased to note that you can still detect a hint of the STL in the Cardinal Archbishop's accent - his "Lord" sounds a little like "Laaard." Southern Baron noted Dolan's active personality - at one point he was actually fidgeting with his pectoral cross. Adorbs.



This was my first Christmas I haven't spent with my parents and siblings, but it was still joyful in my little apartment with only two people unwrapping gifts. The Southern Baron and I enjoyed actually celebrating traditions like Midnight Mass together. We also continued older ones, like buying Christmas cards on sale from museum gift shops.


The parish down the street on Christmas Day
For now, 2014 looks less eventful than last year, and that is fine with me. Starting a new job, moving to a new state, planning a wedding, and starting married life all in 6 months was an exhausting whirlwind. My goal this year is to get the most out of where I am right now, before the next big transition hits.
Our resolution as a couple is to pray together more - grace before meals doesn't count too much. Right now we're figuring out how to use the copy of Shorter Christian Prayer we got for Christmas. The Magnificat Magazine training wheels have been removed, and it's confusing.

Visit Jen Fulweiler at Conversion Diary for more quick takes! 

The Empty Tabernacle

"They've closed the chapel at Brideshead, Bridey and the Bishop. Mummy's requiem was the last Mass said there. 

After she was buried the priest came in ... and took out the altar stone and put it in his bag

 ... and blew out the lamp in the sanctuary, 

and left the tabernacle open and empty,

as if from now on it was always to be Good Friday." - Brideshead Revisted

Seeing the empty tabernacle and stripped altar is my favorite part of Good Friday. Like the sede vacante period, this emptiness only happens once in a while, and so is a powerful reminder of why we love the persons who normally fill that space. The dramatic, sparse mourning of the Triduum sanctifies the sorrow and loneliness that all humans experience. 

Like last year when I was newly engaged, this Lent has been full of exciting new plans that have kept me from feeling somber. But honestly, the past two years have been like one long Lent of underemployment, debt, and uncertainty. The Betrothed and I spent lonely Easters last year on different continents. We had a grainy Skype conversation and vowed "Next year, in Jerusalem!" 

On Christmas Eve, God finally answered our prayers with a job offer for me in New York. I've relocated for love, and finally live in the same state as my future husband. So now Lent is over and we are in Holy Saturday until June 15, waiting, praying, and keeping watch over empty space. I live alone in the apartment that will soon be our home. Different schedules and locations mean we often sit solo in church pews. Every weekend is a puzzle of who will drive where. It's hard for our lives to be so divided. 

The ache and emptiness that hit me when we started long-distance dating is still present. I long for unity with the man I love, and finally to share a home with him and God. I'm not a model Catholic woman, patiently suffering. Too often, I have given in to self-pity and despair. I worry that I have wasted this cross or have failed at being a witness of Christian joy. Sure, secular world, don't shack up with your beloved. Instead, be as miserable as I am! 

Fellow engaged woman Elizabeth recently pointed out that feeling a longing for marriage during the Triduum is actually quite appropriate.  Christ's Passion and Resurrection were His greatest expression of love for His bride, the Church. Why shouldn't we want the same spousal self-giving and unity? So this weekend, when I wish for the millionth time that we were married already, I'll try to unite that wishing to Christ's great desire and love for the Church. I'll think of the great mystery that The Betrothed and I will soon become united to, and its promise that God's people will not face emptiness forever. 

Photos:
1. Good Friday 2013 at Holy Innocents, Manhattan. 

2, 3, 5. Good Friday 2008 at College of William and Mary Catholic Campus Ministry Chapel, Williamsburg, VA

4. Good Friday 2013 at St. Francis Church St. Anthony Chapel, Manhattan

SIlent Retreat Reflections

A few weeks ago I went on a silent Ignatian retreat. The Betrothed is a big fan of such things, but had never tried one. To me, a retreat means campfire singalongs, craft projects, and talking about feelings. I  was a little skeptical about being trapped alone in silence, but the weekend ended up being fantastic. Even if I did get lost on the way there because I was so busy rocking out to Mumford and Sons that I missed my turn in the rainy dark. 

I was afraid of silence. I was afraid that I would go crazy with my own thoughts. Instead, it was the perfect break for an introvert like me. I didn't have to make awkward small talk over breakfast, I didn't have to worry about sitting in the wrong place and breaking up a conversation. It was great to just read, think, pray, and do whatever I felt like. 

Also, I was not in silence alone. The priest's talks throughout the day had wonderful insights about prayer, discouragement, and the desires God has placed in our hearts. Once we could talk on Sunday, I met some great people whom I may run into again. And of course, God was there the entire time. He was easier to hear than usual. 

I took some photos around the Arlington Diocese's lovely San Damiano Retreat Center. It was built as a Franciscan novitiate house in the 1960s, but has been renovated. One of my favorite parts was the collection of photos of Arlington churches that decorated the hallways. The cozy library with free books was just the icing on the cake. 

If you're curious about silent retreats, I highly recommend giving one a try. Bring a good map, but don't be afraid to crank the Mumford and Sons. Their lyrics can be quite appropriate. 

Don't leave me alone at this time/ For I'm afraid of what I will discover inside. 

Now let me at the truth/ Which will refresh my broken mind. 

Stars, hide your fires/ These here are my desires/ And I won't give them up to you this time around.

There is a design/ An alignment to cry/ At my heart you see/ The beauty of love as it was made to be. 

Get over your hill and see/ What you find there/ With grace in your heart/ And flowers in your hair.  

Lead me to the truth and I will follow you with my whole life. 

St. Monica Church, New York City

Whenever I'm traveling, I enjoy the chance to check out churches I've never seen before.

During my upper east side adventure visiting a friend last weekend, I went to Sunday Mass at a parish that was conveniently located literally around the corner. St. Monica's church building was begun in the 1880s and completed in 1906. It's in a pretty standard Gothic revival style, but the decorative elements are exceptionally good.

Thanks to recent renovations, the interior really sparkles. The freestanding altar is obviously a post-Vatican II addition, but it complements the original nicely.

The stained glass windows were one of my favorite parts. They seemed very L. C. Tiffany-esque, with their intricate detailing and the soft edges of the pictures. I wish I had had time to photograph all of them.

And All Flesh Shall See It Together

The Nativity scene at my parish church, Christmas 2011. Note legit swaddling on baby Jesus. 

Happy Feast of the Epiphany! May the glory of the Lord be revealed in each of your lives this year.

Advent Wreaths Take 3

Last weekend The Beau and I took a field trip to the Cathedral Basilica of the Sacred Heart in Newark, NJ. It was worth the 45 minute drive. The fifth largest basilica in the United States, it was by far one of the most magnificent churches I've seen in this country. I haven't been this bowled over since I spent a year exploring the Cathedral Basilica of St. Louis.

Planned in 1859, the cathedral was the brainchild of Newark's first bishop, Rev. James Roosevelt Bayley. He was a nephew of St. Elizabeth Seton and a Roosevelt on his mother's side. Like his aunt, he converted from the Episcopal and was subsequently cut out of his parents' will. Bayley grew the fledgling Newark diocese into a flourishing Catholic community, introducing religious orders and encouraging education. He was also history buff who organized church archives and wrote some histories of early American Catholicism. My kind of guy.

Construction began in 1899, and the French Gothic style cathedral hosted its first mass in 1928. It wasn't until the 1950s that the final interior decorations of stained glass windows and carved oak screens appeared.

In 1995 Pope John Paul II visited the cathedral and elevated it to a minor basilica. While he was in town he presided over evening prayer, with President Clinton in attendance.

It's the attention to detail that makes this cathedral so incredible. Every time I turned around I found something new to marvel at. Why yes, that is Judith holding the head of Holofernes in the center of that pediment over a side door.

The myriads of stained glass windows depict more saints than you can count, giving the impression that you are surrounded by the "great cloud of witnesses." I was excited to find one of my patrons in an apse side chapel.

So if you ever find yourself flying into the Newark airport, see if you can make your way to this American Gothic gem. It's not in the greatest neighborhood, but that makes its splendor all the more astonishing. The product of generations of hard work, it stands as a testament to the Communion of Saints we all hope to join in eternity.

7 Beginnings and Ends

Happy Friday!  Since my graduation is only a week away, this installment is going to be about some of the many "lasts" and "firsts" I'm currently experiencing. Many thanks to Jen for hosting the 7 Quick Takes linkup at Conversion Diary.

1.Tonight I turned in my last graduate school paper. Ever. It felt so surreal. Then my art history professor fed us tacos and pickled cactus, and it was delicious.

2. Last night I worked on said paper by pulling what I hope is my last almost-all-nighter in a long, long time. I've been avoiding graduation emotions, but as I turned off the library lights at 1am there was this sudden bittersweet feeling that it was the end of an era. I might shed a tear when I return all my books next week. 

3. On Monday I'll go on my last grad school field trip.We'll be touring the White House and Capital Building. This will be my first time seeing the inside of each, despite having grown up near them.

4. I got a new camera! Ever since my old Olympus died last summer I've been yearning to have a "real camera" again.My little point-and-shoot has taken good close-up images, but it makes me feel like I'm at the mercy of it's little buttons instead of in control of the situation. So, I took advantage of the magical, wonderful part of grad school known as "professional development funds" to buy a Nikon d3100. 

Check out this inefficient packing. Great job Sears, I am now the proud owner of  gallons of Styrofoam peanuts.

After I got over my initial buyer's remorse, I was delighted to see how well the camera handles both close up and action shots.

 

 

My first time shooting with my new toy was also probably the last time The Beau and I will have a date strolling around the museum grounds. I should send the gardens paths a thank-you card for being such a fun, free activity in the early months of our relationship.


5. My sister started her first museum summer job this week. I'm so excited for her, and can't wait to hear how this colonial farm work turns out. I'm imaging she'll get really buff carrying pails of water and hoeing crops. 


6. This just in: The Beau completed and passed his second and last Ph.D comprehensive exam! I am so glad his tough academic year is done, and I'm so proud of him I could burst.

7. Finally, I am pleased to announce that I have...drumroll please...a NEW BLOG! Chasing Claudia Kincaid is named for the heroine of From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, one of my all-time favorite books. This blog will focus on my thoughts about museums, art, and material culture, freeing up this space to write more about my faith and whatever other random things I feel like. "Claudia" is also my first attempt at using the Wordpress platform, so it will be an interesting learning experience. She'd love it if you paid her a visit!

The Morning Star

This week the Bright Maidens are considering the topic "Mary Our Guide." I've only got time for a quick post this week, but here's what that phrase immediately think of: Mary's title as the Morning Star

In astronomy, the morning star refers to Venus, a planet named for the goddess of love, fertility, and femininity. Venus travels close to the sun inside the earth's orbit, and so sometimes the planet is traveling ahead of the sun in earth's range of visibility. When that happens, the "morning star" appears very bright to us on earth just before the sunrise.

Christians adapted this mythological astronomy to describe Mary, the mother of God. It really makes perfect sense: the woman whose femininity and fertility are forever connected to God travels close to her Son; her bright sinless life heralding His arrival.

There's even a great line in the Mass propers for Mary's birthday on September 8.
"Your birth, O Virgin Mary, gives joy to the whole world, for from you arose the glorious Sun of Justice, Christ our Lord."

Mary always points to Christ, showing us the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

And like any friend's mom eager to tell stories about your friend's childhood, she also can help us understand her Son's life. Especially through the mysteries of the rosary, she can help us ponder things in our hearts just like she did. Pope John Paul II's letter Rosarium Virginis Mariae really helped me understand this. The rosary is not about tediously pronouncing 50+ prayers, it's about contemplating the face of Christ. "This is the task of every follower of Christ and therefore the task of each one of us."
May Mary the Morning Star help us to do that every day.

Shrine to Mary at St. Francis Xavier College Church, St. Louis University

The Cross, Conversion, and Chippendale Chairs

I've really enjoyed following the Bright Maidens' Lenten blog series, especially this week's installment about conversion. I've had conversion on the brain lately since I've been following Kassie, Brit, and Kortni's poignant journeys into joining the Catholic Church this Easter. Being a cradle Catholic, I never had the experience of a dramatic leap into the truth, but lately I've been realizing that God requires a change of heart at every stage of life.
Elizabeth's Bright Maidens post really resonated with me since she described the stage that I'm grappling with right now - figuring out how to balance my faith and my professional life. When I interviewed at my grad program, I described my volunteer work with the poor and my love for fancy museums as "two halves of me that I'm trying to reconcile." Two years later, that is still a work in progress.

One of the new lambs on the museum grounds

When you spend most hours cramming information into your brain, there is little energy left to worry about your soul. Sometimes it's hard to see life beyond stacks of books and papers. I feel like to much of academia, my church-going is just a quaint hobby that makes me really good at art history trivia. It's only slightly more relevant to modern society than Civil War re-enacting, and probably less palatable since re-enactors don't ever tell people their choices are immoral. What do my beliefs have to offer modernity except the Cross and self-denial? That's a hard sell, and its discouraging. I've gotten a little too jaded about how crazy and kitchy Christianity must seem to outsiders.

I'm startling to realize that this is another conversion opportunity. I have to decide to be Catholic not because it's what my parents taught me, or because I'm afraid of hell, or even because I loved my college campus ministry community. No, it has to be something I choose myself, today, for the way I live right now. But exactly how do I make that choice?

Lamb of God headstone at my Delaware parish

God gave my jumbled mind and heart a breakthrough this Tuesday as I sat with the daily readings in my local parish. My over-academic brain noticed that there was a lot of material culture in the Gospel accounts of Holy Week - clothes, dishes, donkeys, attic spaces, plants, money. Maybe the two halves of me weren't so separate after all...

I thought about all the reasons why Catholics are supposedly weird:
- We talk about people and things most people have never heard of. Oh wait, that's what my classmates and I do all day long. Normal people don't spend car rides discussing Chippendale chairs, museum ethics, vernacular architecture theories, or Jackson Lears' conception of antimodernism.
- We have goofy rituals and traditions that are off-putting to outsiders. Well, at grad school dinner parties we flip over chairs, climb under tables, and analyze the china. (Seriously, I did that last weekend.)
- Then there's that sticky final issue of poverty and self denial. Frankly, I can't think of a better way to describe getting a master's degree or PhD. Case closed.

late 1800s embroidered Lamb of God burse at Church of the Transfiguration, NYC

Really, the two halves of me work best when they are in tandem. Catholicism has given me an advantage as an historian, and not just in the trivia department. When I look at the world through the eyes of faith, I can see connections everywhere - the hand of Providence in good things, Old Testament allusions in the Mass, words of hymns that pertain to certain moments, experiences that I can compare to events in Christ's life. The entire world is bound together by the love of God, the waters of Baptism, the tangible mystery that is the Eucharist. When I was at Mass tonight, I was connected to thousands of people who lived centuries before me.

There are times when studying history feels similar. Sometimes my mind envisions a timeline of people and events stretching back through the decades, connected by threads of causes and ideas. Good history books weave a complex web of lives and stories to help us understand how the world got the way it is now. The best way I can try to explain it is a kind of 3-D or polarized filter, and you have to make a point to turn it on.

Today, Holy Thursday, I turned in my master's thesis about Episcopal vestments. The whole thing is secretly about the allure of the Eucharist, so it's perfect that it ended on the day Christ instituted that very sacrament. Maybe God is trying to tell me something.

For the rest of the Triduum, I'll be praying for the converts waiting to be Confirmed, and working on my own conversion. I'll be praying for God to open the eyes of my heart, so I can see the connections that have yet to be made.

Ten Facts about Me and The Beau

Betty Beguiles has this fun feature "about me and my better half" going on her blog, so I though I'd join in. Here are some fun facts about me and The Beau, who's really been deserving a better explanation for a while.

1. He's a New Orleans native, I'm a Virginian. So how did we end up long-distance dating in the northeast? Grad school and the OK Cupid dating website. 
2. He got my attention in his first email message by asking if I'd seen the new Sense and Sensibility adaptation. (He later admitted this was a calculated move.) Then I got his attention by agreeing that William III and Mary II totally stole the English throne from her Catholic father James II. Thus a history nerd romance was born. 
3. Our first date was on the feast of the Assumption, August 15, 2009. Meeting for coffee and dinner turned into six hours of conversation before he finally drove back to New Jersey. 
4. His blog nickname comes from the brief period before we were "Facebook official" and I needed some way to describe "That guy who drove 2 hours to meet me at Brew-Ha-Ha" to my classmates. "The Beau" seemed appropriately olde timey. 
5. We both love photography, so many of our early dates involved taking pictures in parks and on my museum grounds. Then my DSLR broke and school got crazy, so we need to get back into that.
6. Before we met he didn't know anything about gluten-intolerance, but he's been amazingly supportive about it. He's even gotten me to be more assertive asking about ingredients in restaurants! The day we figured out how to make gumbo with a GF roux was a big victory. 
7. He went to Jesuit High School in New Orleans, so the Jesuits are a big part of his spirituality. I've got a Vincentian background, so we educate each other. 
8. Due to geographic distance, our moms have never met, but we are pretty sure they are almost the same person. Bonus: my mom was taught by Jesuits at SLU, his mom has a Vincentian confessor. 
9. This summer and fall he will be in London doing history dissertation research. At first I dreaded it horribly, but I've gradually become more peaceful about it and more excited for him to have this opportunity. 
10. Ever since our third date (when we became Facebook official) we like to hold hands during the homily at Mass - except when he's in the choir loft at his parish.

Vestment thoughts of the day

Sorry about the silence; I won't be posting too much in the coming weeks since we're in the throes of thesis draft finishing. The atmosphere in the library has already reached the level of giggling and pencil-case-throwing, so who knows how much sanity will be left when we reach by April 4.


I start giggling whenever the books I'm reading about Anglican church embroidery sound so very ... English. For example:
In 1920 Hinda M. Hands (tell me that is not a made-up name) warned about all the crazy silk colors available to modern altar guild ladies, since “without a cultivated ‘colour sense’, an embroider can run riot among an embarras de richesse with most disastrous results!” *Gasp.* My gracious! Although if you've ever looked at the blog Bad Vestments, you know this to be true. 


Augustus Welby Northmore Pugin (his awesome actual name) started the Gothic revival in the 1830s and was never tacky. He also eventually became Catholic, sadly disappointing Team Anglican. As a 1980s publication told me:  "Pugin – “that wonderful man” as [William] Burges always thought of him – had tainted the [ecclesiological] movement with a whiff of incense. [John] Ruskin supplied an anti-papal deodorant." Because Speed Stick is always a good analogy when talking about church aesthetics. 


In honor of St. Patrick, I'll leave you with some of my favorite green vestments I've studied. They're all stoles for some reason.

At St. Ignatius of Antioch, NYC

At Church of the Transfiguration, NYC

At St. Mark's Philadelphia