Stained Glass in arch of Holy Family Cathedral
I am posting yet more photographs of the lovely Holy Family Cathedral in Tulsa. Guilt is weighing heavy about brow-beating the church secretary into opening the cathedral for me… A therapist would have fun trying to figure out why a lapsed Catholic spends so much time in church!
Organ in cathedral
As I mentioned in a previous post, they were servicing the organ and I would have loved to have heard it in a mass. These old architects really knew how to create fantastic acoustics. The colors in this cathedral particularly appealed to me. I adore the color lilac but my mother hated it, as did my mother in law. Perhaps it was the association with mourning?
Cross and Flowers
I wandered around the exterior of the church and this cross was in the side garden. Trespass is an unknown concept to me; it is either my native blood or growing up in Scotland where there is no true law of trespass. Mr Trump was very upset that ‘anyone’ could walk across his precious golf course…
Finally, this plaque in honor of the Year of Mercy touched my soul. Not sure about my indulgence though with the whole brow-beating thing going on…
Aisle of the Holy Family Cathedral, Tulsa
As you know, I love to visit churches when traveling – it appeases my lapsed Catholic soul and the photos are always good. In most of Texas (and Mexico) Catholic churches are open all the time, for sinners like me. This beautiful cathedral was locked but there was number to call. I called the number and the lady said that it would be open when Mass was said later in the day. This was a 24 hour trip (to Tulsa), so I didn’t have time to wait for Mass. I gently persuaded her that I needed it open NOW and I wrote travel blogs. She sort of sighed but came and opened the front door for me – what a treat! This cathedral was a real beauty.
Right hand nave
This is where I lit all my candles for everyone. I kinda wanted to pray for myself but that’s not allowed and I had already manipulated the poor church secretary (one more black mark on my soul…) I love to see purple in a church and priests’ robes are purple at Easter. The smell of incense would have made it a sublime experience.
While I was taking photographs/praying, some men where repairing the organ that somehow made the experience a little more memorable, if slightly off key.