St. Hedwig's Cathedral

St. Hedwig's was a serendipitous mistake on a sunny afternoon in Berlin. We had sat in front of the much larger, much more impressive Berliner Dom basking in the peaceful rest only soft grass in the sun can provide before walking around and exploring the other fancy looking buildings around. We ended up in a plaza where the cathedral was slightly tucked away behind the construction work on another building. Admittedly, the domed building with its white columns doesn't scream cathedral like you expect in Europe.

Inside, though, you get the story of the cathedral. It's the seat of the archibishop in Berlin and the church that was built on this spot in the 18th century was the first Catholic church allowed in Prussia after the Protestant Reformation. Like many other churches in Berlin, St. Hedwig's sustained damage during the war, burning in an air raid in 1943. The structure seen today was constructed in 1952-1963 and it doesn't pay tribute to any previous styles of building. There's a skylight at the top and windows in the walls, but no pictures in the stained glass and no candeliers for lighting- just these odd orbs of light on strings hanging down from the ceiling. The altar is in the center of the room, surrounded by pews and the additional chapels are down a staircase right in front of the altar.

Downstairs, they have a chapel for St. Hedwig, of course- her relics are kept here in the cathedral that honors her name. St. Hedwig has little or nothing to do with the more famous (I think) snowy white owl, but she did go barefoot in the winter and donate to the poor a lot, so she's solid in my book. There remains of Bernhard Lichtenberg are in the crypt as well. Father Litchenberg was persecuted by the government after praying for Jewish families in the aftermath of Kristallnacht. The chapels are good and quiet, each with a different purpose and atmosphere. On the whole, though, the entire cathedral was rather deserted. I don't think St. Hedwig's is on a list of cathedrals to visit in Berlin.

Upstairs, there was a little nook that had a statue of Mary and two candelabras, full of votive candles.

I lit mine for the women in the park in front of the Berliner Dom, who each told a different story of a different country's unrest or tragedy that brought them to the streets of Berlin. One of them had wandered over to St. Hedwig's and sat just outside of the door, rocking her baby. I know that handing them a euro coin won't make their lives any better, but one of the reasons I still believe in the church is that it still does good deeds. Maybe the euro I put in for my candle will sneak into a fund for the people on the streets of Berlin.

The smoke didn't drift up to the bulbs they had for lighting in the sanctuary, but they caught my eye anyway. Looking around the room, you'd almost forget that this cathedral belonged to a religion millenias old. I thought of the places the women had claimed to be from. Libya. Egypt. Afghanistan. A modern church for modern problems, centuries old.