A Catholic reader, reflecting on my post about memory, society, and the Benedict Option, sent in this story, which I publish with his permission. It’s amazing, just amazing:

Because I think it’s related to the BenOp in some remote way, and because it has to do with memory, and because my sister and I were just talking about it and feeling sad/mad, let me tell you about St. Stanislaus, in the heart of Fell’s Point in Baltimore.

My sister moved there in about 1993. I got there in 1996. Fell’s Point was already well on its way to gentrifying, but it still had a really interesting mix of old Polish ladies, aging frat boys, hippies, dock workers, etc. St. Stan’s still had a Catholic grade school, as did another Catholic church a few blocks up, so there were still families there, obviously, all living in aging row homes in walking distance of the water, tourist traps and about a bajillion bars, some of which opened at 6 am for people coming off third shift. I loved it there.

At any rate, St. Stan’s was a focal point of the weirdness. It was a beautiful old Polish church with some very devout old ladies. It was also major part of the local culture. The enormous and raucous Fell’s Point Festival saw every drunk in town along with thousands of tourists stumbling around the place, including the parking lot of St. Stan’s, which ran its own beer garden. They had a huge Coors Light sign hanging across the buildings. They regularly had polka masses, which instead of the church were held in the basement, in folding chairs. The reasoning was that the old ladies could not walk up the stairs top the main chapel. But I seem to recall that they had to walk down into the basement and back up out of it. Maybe there was an elevator, but we never saw it. I like to think there wasn’t one. At any rate, one week I was there with my sister and her future husband. He and I sat in our chairs in the back row. I kicked something under my seat. It was a handle of Crown Royal.

For some reason they did their communion line backwards. They started with the people in the back, who ran into the people coming after them as they tried to get back to their seats. It was like a ballet. They made it work, but we screwed it up and botched the line entirely. We were at a stand still until an old nun put both her hands directly in the middle of my back and shoved me back into a seat without saying a word. It was awesome.

At any rate, St. Stan’s closed in 2000, just a few months before I left town. As such, I kind of feel like I was there for the end of the “real” Fell’s Point. I know that’s how every gentrifier feels, but honestly, something changed. They were planning to use the space for ridiculously expensive townhomes. Who needs a school when the place is for young, rich college grads who have no kids? And the dock workers and drunks can live somewhere else, as that was PRIME real estate.

At any rate, all these years later, out of curiosity, I tried to find out what became of the church. Turns out the local parishioners wanted it to become a museum of Polish history. The Franciscan order that owned it had other ideas, which included $800,000 townhomes. The Franciscans won, but they never did put in the $800,000 townhomes. They did save the church, though. So what did it become? It is actually worse than I thought:

https://www.sanctuarybody.com/our-studio

It’s  GYM. Holy balls, it’s a GYM! I’d rather it was… anything but a gym! Townhomes would have been better. Worse, it’s a gym that tries to build on the building’s history by talking about itself as a SPIRITUAL gym. So yeah. Memory. In the service of…https://blog.thenewcenturyschool.com/2013/05/24/sanctuary-bodyworks-an-exercise-haven/

Gag. Gag!

I know that’s not fair. Good health is great. But I remember that Crown Royal and the Coors Light beer garden and the angry nun, who was stronger than any gym rat I have ever met and I think… this is progress?

Now listen. I am not a heritage absolutist. If I wanted it to be something else I should have bought it. But gadzooks.

And yeah. I guess the world is a different place and 120 years after the thing was built, it’s not like that neighborhood had any kids in it that would benefit from the school because…

But wait a minute…

What happened to the school? Seeing that there aren’t really kids down there and there’s no need for a school, I guess it was time to make room for…

THE SCHOOL!

That’s right. Directly next to the church, where the school was, you can now find… a school. It’s called “The New Century School.” It’s for ages two through fifth grade. It’s doing so well that they are adding a middle school one grade at a time.

https://www.thenewcenturyschool.com/

Got that? It’s a special school. Where you learn to become fluent in Chinese and Spanish.

So. Not enough Catholic kids in the area to support a private school. But a school for people who for some reason need to know Chinese and Spanish? Can’t build ’em fast enough.

Yeah, well… who can afford tuition at St. Stan’s?

Dunno. But the tuition at The New Century School is about $12,000 per year. I don’t have the data in front of me, but I bet that St. Stan’s tuition was maybe half that, and the church paid the difference. And that they couldn’t support it anymore so they closed it. But it turns out that there are lots of people in Baltimore who are interested in a private education, and are willing to pay $12,000 a year. They just want the focus to be on foreign languages.

And of course, you and I know that the Catholic church has no access to or interest in language instruction because…

Wait a minute. What I meant to say is that the Catholic church OWNS the discussion about access to and interest in language instruction. And that if any institution in the whole world could lay claim to teaching foreign languages to young people, it’d be the Catholic church. But instead of running that school, they walked away and let someone else run it and charge the full boat tuition they needed.

That’s not a criticism. Just an observation. And clearly, the world is a different place and downtown Baltimore probably doesn’t need a gargantuan cathedral and a school every three blocks like they once did. And maybe upper middle class strivers would be less willing to pay tuition at a language school if the tuition also got them some religious instruction as part of the deal, although I think that the presence of Catholic schools in the wealthy exurbs argues otherwise.

Balls. Either way, I feel compelled to go drink beer in their parking lot, just on principle. And to find that old nun, take her into the gym and have her crush everyone in a bench pressing contest. I am hoping the Crown Royal is still in the basement. I’l be needing it.

All of which is to say, memory is a really interesting concept. But it’s one that can be commodified just like anything else. Look at it Rod. LOOK AT IT! One of the links above actually uses a header that says, “He sells sanctuary” in discussing the owner of the gym. I appreciate the reference to the great song by The Cult (The Cult!), but still. And this. Just… this:

“If a former cathedral strikes you as being an incongruous site for a gym (the one divine, the other traditionally considered fully secular), think again. Owner Brandon Hallock’s choice of the former church to open his “bodyworks” was quite deliberate. Consider the name he gave it: Sanctuary—it’s not just a playful take on the building’s origins. Mr. Hallock says he wanted to create a “more therapeutic, spa-like, relaxing atmosphere—a retreat from urban living.” He even kept as is or repurposed architectural elements from the church to maintain the peaceful ambience this hallowed place continues to impart. Though no longer a place of religious worship, and re-created to focus on the physical body, it is nevertheless inherently spiritual.”

More. Therapeutic. Just thought I’d point that out for you.

Again, St. Stan’s couldn’t fill the seats. Couldn’t pay the bills. It basically had to close, and at least someone managed to find something to do with it. From a very personal standpoint, however, that transformation made that a less interesting place. And a lesser place. For me. I know. It made it a better place for people who can afford $800,000 townhomes and want their kids to be tri-lingual in Chinese, Spanish and English and can afford $12,000 per year. So they get that place.

Meh. I have my own memories. Angry nuns, Crown Royal, Coors Light and polka masses in the basement. That’s what I find therapeutic. I don’t know the details, so I can’t say that the gym guy or the parishoners or the bishop or the Franciscans did anything wrong here. Reality is reality and neighborhoods change. The church is building schools in other areas, so maybe it’s a win, writ large.

But I would not join that gym, Rod. I wouldn’t!

The reader adds in a follow-up e-mail:

Just in case you didn’t read the whole link, Rod, I decided I might ruin your day by pointing this out:

“The architects who transformed the space skillfully combined new industrial brick and steel with the existing graceful arches and faded though still ornate painted designs. Images of saints, their facial features somewhat rubbed away by time, hover on ceilings and walls as if sanctioning your fitness efforts.”

Yes. As if! Because they certainly would! Yes, my son, THIS is why I gave myself to martyrdom: So you can impress with rock-hard abs and toned buttocks. YES, my daughter, one more rep so you can justify wearing that halter top to Preakness this year!

Yes, Rod. Here they are dismantling the pipe organ. Look at the faded Saints.

You and I have enough theology to know that these saints are SCREAMING for solid pecs and perky breasts and therapeutically enhanced upper arms. DO they seem dismayed in these photos? I suspect it has to do with their disappointment in the overall level of TONE they see in the world.

Yes, Rod. With their facial features somewhat rubbed away by time, it’s as if these saints sanction our fitness efforts. Hovering, as they are, on the walls and ceilings.

I have nothing to add to this. It’s perfect. I would point out that on its website, Sanctuary Bodyworks sells itself as, get this: “Your Body, Our Temple.”

Could their possibly be a more powerful symbol of what we have lost as Christianity has faded from our collective life? What was once a place to worship God and perfect one’s soul is now a place for worship of Self and perfection of one’s body.

We deserve what we get.