I attended Christmas eve services with my family as millions of people did the other night. The familiar interior of the sanctuary, singing the hymns that you have memorized over the years and seeing the familiar faces (though they are older) felt just like when you eat comfort food.
This beautiful space is where my love for architecture began. I remember sitting with my parents and siblings and trying to look interested but really what I did most of the time was look at the beams, windows, the texture of the oak and cool smoothness of the marble. I remember when they installed the pipes. What excitement. Counting the different sizes of pipes and instead of listening to the sermon was quite entertaining. When I wasn't counting and I was sketching various views of the santuary on the service folders.
They say over and over that a church is not a building. It is the people. I guess that is some what true. For me, though, the building represents the people and all that it holds from all the years past and its future.
P.S. In the old days they had real trees that went all the way to the ceiling.
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