A church at every port

It’s no surprise that traveling is a favorite hobby of mine. In fact, the idea of taking a trip brings such excitement to me, that I often spend my ‘free’ time planning the next one I take. I love finding a great flight deal; researching various hotel options; making lists of attractions / activities to do and see; figuring out how I’ll get from point A to point B… etc.

As a working woman, many of my trips encompass the weekend — well, duh — but the notion that my trips occur over a weekend becomes relevant in my identity as a Catholic. Because, as a frequent weekend traveler and a Catholic who attends (read: aims to attend) Mass each Sunday, part of my trip-planning process is determining when and where I can attend Mass.

From big cities to tiny mountain towns, in the US and abroad, fiancé and I have attended Mass at a variety of parishes — each one unique, both in its outward appearance, as well as offering a small glimpse into the community which supports the church.

Interior view of Holy Name Cathedral in Chicago.

Chicago being one of my favorite cities to visit, fiancé and I have oft found ourselves there for a weekend visit. And, I can’t think of a single time we’ve been in Chicago that we did not attend Mass at Holy Name Cathedral. The incredible architecture — as with the rest of the city — is awe-inspiring. Just walking up to the church, I find myself in reverent silence.

Exterior of Holy Name Cathedral on State Street in Chicago.

Two of the most memorable times I attended Mass at Holy Name were the night before running the Chicago Marathon. The church seems especially packed for the Saturday Vigil Mass before the race — because it will be difficult for the runners and their supporters to attend the next day. Sure enough, after the Homily, it becomes quite clear just how many runners are present at Mass when the priest invites all of the marathon runners up to the alter for a blessing.

I’ve been on both sides — part of the ‘runners’ contingent, as well as the spectator side, and it is truly incredible to see not only the sheer number of runners, but also the diversity. There are people from all over the world, male and female, young and old, at the alter for the blessing. I felt so empowered and encouraged, standing there with all those runners, as I said a quick prayer for all those who would be running the next day. Coolest of all, the parish provided a little gift to each runner — one year it was a small token with a quote from the poem “Footprints”; this past year it was a rubber bracelet (which we were instructed to wear during the race) with the bible verse from Philippians 4:13: “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” I did wear it during the race, and somewhere around mile 16, thinking about that verse, all those runners standing together for the blessing, and praying for strength to carry on provided just the boost I needed to power through.

Community is a beautiful thing. It allows you to be a part of something that is bigger than yourself. Whether it’s a community of faith or a community of runners — communities define purpose; motivate action; and bring joy to the people who invest time and energy in them. As a participant or an observer, it’s rewarding to be a part of a community. For me, attending Mass while on a trip is just one more way that I can immerse myself in a community at every destination to which I travel. And that’s why I seek a church at every port.