St. Columba
343 West 25th Street
Up to recent decades Chelsea – the area on the West Side between West 14th Street and West 29th street – had remained one of the more obscure areas of Manhattan. The 1939 WPA Guide to New York referred to its “preserved “ quality. Starting from the 1820’s until after the Civil War it had actually been primarily a residential area for the well-to-do. Later, it took on an increasingly industrial aspect with a working to middle class population. The great docks on the Hudson set the tone. Since the 1970’s all that has changed. Chelsea’s lofts and townhouses became increasingly trendy. The neighborhood then succeeded the Village as the reputed center of New York homosexuality (a status that may be disappearing at this time). Nowadays starting from the Meatpacking District on Chelsea’s southern border, the Highline wends its way north attracting crowds of the trendy. And so sexy has the Chelsea moniker become that this district also has advanced north – all the way up to 34th street ( at least in the minds of the real-estate industry).
In 1845 Bishop Hughes of New York founded St Columba as one of the first parishes erected under his episcopate. Dedicated in honor of one of the great “Triad” of Irish national saints (St. Patrick and St Bridget being the others) the parish was born in the midst of the massive Irish immigration of the 1840’s. Indeed it is recorded that one of the claims to fame of the founding pastor was his command of the Irish language. The church was completed entirely in the course of 1845. Although a remarkable spiritual leader, the first pastor, Fr. Bourke, was a poor administrator and Bishop Hughes has to replace him within a year. His successor, Father McAleer, stabilized the parish and was still in office thirty-two years later. And although a number of new parishes had been hived off from the original bounds of St Columba’s the parish population in 1878 was substantially greater than in 1845 – such was the expansion of the Catholic Church in New York in the 19th century. 1)
We’ve noted the dedication to St Columba – a great Irish monk and missionary of the 6th century – the evangelizer of the Picts (in present day Scotland) and the founder of the great monastery of Iona. We have elsewhere made reference to the perhaps curious fact that despite its reputation for being aggressively Irish, the church in Manhattan has relatively few dedications to saints of the Irish calendar: St. Columba, St Bridget; St. Malachy; St. Lawrence O’Toole (now St. Ignatius Loyola) – and of course St. Patrick’s (twice).
We have seen how St Columba parish was founded in the dramatic 1840’s and its modest church erected so rapidly thereafter. It was little more than an expanded chapel – a large hall. We can now understand why the construction of the church of St Bridget in 1848 was greeted with such enthusiasm. Next to St Columba, the church of St Bridget appears grand, spacious, airy – and built in a proper Catholic Gothic style! But the curious thing is that despite its limitations of style and size the church of St Columba was never replaced. It survives to this day as one of the earliest structures built specifically as a Catholic church.
St Columba parish sits in the midst of a depressing very un-Chelsea- like landscape of high- rise housing projects and apartments. Its low redbrick façade presents one of the most unprepossessing exteriors of any Catholic church in New York. Originally, however, it was not so unrelentingly plain – Gothic pinnacles that once graced the exterior have since disappeared. A simple narthex was added in 1915; just as in the 19th century an exposed bell peers over the side of the façade (a tower was never built). But towering over the church is one of the grandest parochial school buildings in New York – built in 1909 and covered in Gothic tracery with separate Boys’ and girls’ entrances. But do not get your hopes up – the Archdiocese closed the school in 2007. It is now occupied by a private school for children with certain learning disabilities – strange, how such a building can be successfully reused by a private secular school….
The surprising, colorful interior of St Columba’s, however, richly rewards the visitor. Most extraordinary of all are the beams supporting the ceiling – as at St. Bridget, they tell stories here of the presence of Irish shipwrights…. Indeed, St. Columba’s is one of those ancient New York churches housing at treasure chest of artifacts from the earliest times through to 1930 and later. The furnishings transform a simple hall into an unmistakably Catholic place of worship. The statues and devotions seem virtually innumerable. Yet, in contrast to some old churches (like the former St Agnes), the interior is not an incoherent jumble. The rich brown wood of the pews, the confessionals and the roof beams sets a strong unified accent. The windows, of many different eras and hands, provide contrasting colorful illumination.
(Above and Below) Windows illustrating the life of St Columba from Munich or Austria.
(above and below) The patron saint of the parish – and the other members of the “big three” of Ireland.
Dominating the interior is the massive, unique two-level stone high altar of 1930 – really three altars with a reredos – complete with protective railings above and a communion rail (only partially preserved?) below. Its dimensions would seem more appropriate for a much larger church – yet here it fits and successfully unifies the entire space around the center of the church: the altar of sacrifice.
As is usually the case, post conciliar developments are best rapidly passed over. At some point in the not too distant past there was one or more restorations. The façade was freed from a depressing whitewash. In the interior, however, the conciliar “people’s altar” was made permanent and situated directly before the old sanctuary. It sits there today, sporting a pedestrian version of Leonardo da Vinci’s “Last Supper” and surrounded by a lectern, movable chairs and a piano. In a 1976 episode of Kojak filmed inside this church, appears what seems to be a monumental, baroque marble baptismal font – today there is a nice but much smaller metal font. Against the walls of the sanctuary and elsewhere in the church are paintings of an “artist” – apparently the same individual whose products are found in several other New York City parishes. They add a touch of color but nothing more.
A devotion to Our Lady of Lujan (Argentina) reveals the large Hispanic presence – as in the case of most Manhattan parishes.
St. Columba’s s indeed a survivor – born amidst the crises of the Irish immigration, the Famine, the cholera epidemics, and the conflicts of the early New York diocese – yet enduring, to great extent unaltered, to the present day. It offers a wonderful lesson in history and Catholicism in a part of town where otherwise trendiness increasingly reigns. 2) An austere visitor from a more traumatic time, St.Columba’s is an admonishing presence in the surrounding hedonism of Chelsea and the spiritual indifference of the Archdiocese.
1) On the early history of St Columba’s see generally Shea, John Gilmary, The Catholic Churches of New York City at 246, 250 (Lawrence G. Goulding & Co., New York, 1878)
2) For further information and many magnificent pictures (including scenes from the 1976 episode of Kojak filmed in the church) see the very informative website of the parish.
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