In 1841 as Father Lucien Galtier’s pioneer parishioners installed a 3-foot cross on the roof of the new log chapel they named “St. Paul,” the young French priest also planted a seed of faith, which during the next 175 years would grow into the largest of plants: the parish of the Cathedral of St. Paul.
The chapel, located on the Mississippi river bluff in what is now downtown St. Paul, fostered the Catholic faith and also served as a catalyst for the capital city of the same name to develop around it. The story of the faithful who populated the new chapel, diocese and city of St. Paul inspires present-day Catholics and residents of the city, which narrowly escaped being named Pig’s Eye.
“It was the beginning of the city of St. Paul,” said Mark Labine, president of the Arden Hills-based French-American Heritage Foundation of Minnesota and author of, “In the beginning, there was a Chapel.” “The city grew up around the chapel. …They built this little log chapel, and it became a cathedral and a school and a hospital, and the name of the city and the name of the capital of Minnesota.”
Full Story about the Cathedral History
“Voices of Light” is a stunning evening of music and film, merging Carl Dreyer’s legendary 1928 silent film masterpiece “The Passion of Joan of Arc,” widely considered to be one of the greatest films ever made, with the live performance of a moving and powerful orchestral/choral score by award-winning American composer Richard Einhorn. Join conductor Matthew Mehaffey and the Oratorio Society of Minnesota for the Twin Cities premiere.
Voices of Light is a stunning evening of music and film, merging Carl Dreyer’s legendary 1928 silent film masterpiece “The Passion of Joan of Arc,” widely considered to b e one of the greatest films ever made, with the live performance of a moving and powerful orchestral/choral score by award – winning American composer Richard Einhorn.
Whatever our beliefs, the Cathedral of St. Paul is in some way or another ours.
Graceful and imposing, the structure has been an orienting presence on the landscape, drawing locals and tourists of all faiths to its doors, for a century.
A yearlong centennial celebration included Sunday’s commemoration of the 100th anniversary of the first Mass celebrated under the dome of the beloved “cathedral on the hill” — one of the so-called seven hills of the Saintly City.
On the hill — also known as St. Anthony Hill — “there’s no better site to put a monumental structure,” Twin Cities architecture expert Larry Millett said in a recent edition of the Catholic Spirit, the newspaper of the Archdiocese of St. Paul and Minneapolis. “The cathedral is much more visible in St. Paul than the Capitol.”
It was “designed as a monumental, muscular display of faith,” said Millett, also a former Pioneer Press reporter.
And so it remains.
A century ago, the dreams of an archbishop and his generous flock were realized in the first mass at the Cathedral of St. Paul.
For Palm Sunday, the polished floors of the Cathedral of St. Paul shine in mirror-like brilliance, reflecting a blaze of multicolored light streaming through the massive stained-glass rose windows.
Voices rising from the choir loft are accompanied by the triumphant blast of pipe organs as 1,000 or more worshipers gather under the copper-clad dome to celebrate mass.
It’s here, high atop a hill overlooking downtown St. Paul, where Catholics have come for the past century to worship and wed and pay tribute to those who have passed on.
And it’s here, over the next year, where they will return again and again to celebrate the 100th anniversary of a spiritual shrine through concerts and food drives and even a softball tournament.
At the heart of all the hoopla and history, however, the cathedral stands as an active community of faith.
The first homily at the first “Cathedral” of St. Paul — then, just a rustic chapel — was a stoic experience.
No heat, no water, in a 25-by-18-foot log cabin that could hold fewer than a hundred.
The first homily at the fourth cathedral — the “Cathedral on the Hill,” a more recognized landmark than the Capitol building across from it — was surprisingly stoic as well.
There were pews, and little else. A single, bare electric bulb hung from the Cathedral’s high dome. That first Mass — to be commemorated by Archbishop John Nienstedt in a centennial homily Sunday, and in events and exhibits throughout the year — was absent of any accoutrement.
And yet each of the five Masses scheduled that day — which some worried would be too barren, too spacious to be intimate with God — were standing-room only.
The speaker, 77-year-old Archbishop John Ireland — a former infantry regiment chaplain who had served in the Civil War — would die three years later.
He’d spent his final efforts finishing a project many decried as folly. Too expensive, too ambitious, too far away from Rome.
“Archbishop Ireland wanted people to know that Catholics had arrived in America. (With the construction of the Cathedral), he wanted people to see that ‘we are Catholics, but we are Americans.’ That there was no contradiction whatsoever between the two,” said the Rev. John Ubel, the Cathedral’s current rector.
Full Article on Twin Cities Pioneer Press
Rob Ridgell, Director of Sacred Music, talks about the Cathedral’s two Skinner pipe organs on Comcast Newsmakers during the home stretch of the organ restoration project.