Church Review: St. Stephen Martyr

This week's posts are part of a new endeavor - several segments of my writings throughout my adventure today.  Each post is the spur-of-the-moment piece I wrote at the location and time noted at the beginning of the post, plus some editing and rearranging.  I've decided to try this (dividing up one day's adventures into a couple of posts) because I noticed that last week's posts were vacuous and rather uninteresting - but let's face it, very little happens at work that a) is interesting and b) I can tell you about.  So we're going to try something new - let me know in the comments if you like it! 

St. Stephen Martyr
2346 Pennsylvania Ave. NW
Website

Foggy Bottom, 12:30pm

As I write I'm sitting on the campus of [the] George Washington University, passing for a student at the country's most expensive undergraduate institution - or so I was told by the GWUers I studied abroad with.  I'm inclined to believe it.

Ivory Tower?  Guys, you know that's usually meant as an insult, right?

I've just come here from the 11:00 Mass at the church of St. Stephen Martyr, a Mass unlike any I've ever experienced.  Some of my readers may know that I had originally intended to go to the cathedral (St. Matthew the Apostle) today, but after a night spent playing Battlestar Galactica: The Board Game and drinking into the wee hours of the morning (I was President Laura Roslin, which shouldn't come as any surprise to anyone), I was in no condition to haul myself all the way up there in time for a 10:00 Mass.  11:00, on the other hand, I could handle, even though Foggy Bottom is about as far away from me as the cathedral is.  I was willing to make the trek, though, because the Mass was billed as "Solemn Chant," and I had to find out what that meant.

It took me some time to find the church, since Foggy Bottom isn't a part of town I'm familiar with.  I was actually a couple of minutes late and missed the processional, but I wasn't the only one, and found a seat with ease.  Then, singing responses as I went - Solemn Chant Mass, it turns out, means everything is sung - I looked around.  "Chant" may make you think that I was in an old church, but in fact the opposite was true - see?

The church is not terribly big - I was almost in the back when I took this - but it is definitely interesting nonetheless.  If you read my review of St. Dominic and don't know me very well, you might have begun to wonder if I wasn't one of those arch-conservatives who wants to scrap Vatican II and go back to the Middle Ages.  Similarly, you might have concluded that I like my churches old - the older the better - and my music equally so.  I will admit to a preference for old church music (and other kinds of music - I love medieval and Baroque), but I don't want to trash Vatican II, and I have been known to appreciate modern art and architecture as well - I do live in a Brutalist apartment complex, after all.

What is perhaps most intriguing about St. Stephen Martyr is that its modernity, with a sleek '60s feel like some of Southwest, manages to feel old at the same time.  Perhaps this is because it is not cavernous like some large, modern churches - it feels cozy, actually, nestled up to a building on one side, with a relatively low ceiling (as far as churches go, anyway).  The size and the whitewashed walls allow you to imagine that instead of being in downtown Washington, you're in a church carved out of living rock in the highlands of Cappadocia, like this one. 

Perhaps it's also the glass.  Compare these: on the left, a window from St. Stephen, with the right, a window from Chartres Cathedral.  They both have the same blue background - in fact, this blue color predominates at Chartres, and is so famous that it's called "Chartres blue."  Even more interesting (I just noticed this now) is that both depict a spear-bearer.  How odd.


















Another comparison: the back window of St. Stephen (this is the large arch you can see from the street) and the rose window at Reims.  (I knew there was a reason I like St. Stephen's glasswork so much!)

St. Stephen (forgive the blur - I don't like obviously taking pictures in a church which isn't otherwise a tourist spot)

Rose window at Reims Cathedral

In any case, add to this stained glass a gold-vested priest, enough incense to kill an asthmatic, and a mix of medieval and modern-retro liturgical music (as in after Mass parts were written in English but before they got sappy), and I was awash in a very different experience.  I'm not sure what to make of it, really, but as I do in a church review, I'll set down some thoughts.

Location: 3.  I could walk this, if I have an hour to burn, because it's not so much far north as it is far west (I'll put it on the map soon).  I can take the metro, but it runs infrequently on Sundays - in fact, I blame the metro for making me late more than anything else.  It's doable, but far from ideal.

Aesthetics: While not a treasure-trove, St. Stephen Martyr is an unexpected find, and much prettier that it could have been.  As you can see from the tangent above, I find it intriguing, visually, although I won't be swooning from visual overload any time soon.  4.

Liturgy: I like incense, so billowing clouds of it aren't a problem for me, though I would advise asthmatics to sit in back.  As in, the last pew.  It makes me wonder, though - do they have smoke detectors in churches?
Liturgy was mostly sung, which is good because this parishes actually sings (some don't, although having good acoustics, which this church does, helps a lot).  The priest, on the other hand, needs some coaching - on multiple occasions he would begin a passage and it would take me a few moments to realize that he was actually singing it - I mean, that rather uncomfortable tone issuing from his mouth (word to describe it fail me) could have been his formal reading voice, right?  In preaching, however, he's doing fine.  Not lofty and inaccessible like the Dominicans, but quite open, friendly, easy to grasp.  I'm not sure his logic is as sound as it could be, but points for an accessible style.  His sermon gets a 3, but throw in that incense and some chanting and I'll give it a 4.

Music: Good - better than St. Dominic in terms of content, but about the same in terms of execution.  The cantor, alas, had the tendency which many female cantors do, to sing slower than the organ when being accompanied and draw out her notes; it is a way of getting noticed, because the cantor who does such a thing likes the sound of her own voice (she was also vested, which bothers me for completely different reasons which don't need to be examined here).  They have a small choir organ in back to serve them while they raise money for a proper one, and although it is small, it did an admirable job.  The choir (four people total) is good, though they need to work on their blending, and the cantor is full of herself.  Well, no one's perfect.  4.

Review
Location: 3
Aesthetics: 4
Liturgy: 4
Music: 4
15/20 (3.75)

Seems about right - it's nicer than St. Dominic in most ways, but its location is a real kicker.  I'm not going to truck all the way up to Foggy Bottom on a weekly basis for a mere three-quarters of a point, but it's a good place to keep in mind for that intriguing melange of old and new - or if I feel like I need some incense.