For the better part of two years, construction has been underway for the brand-new Our Lady of Wisdom Church. Anyone who is on campus can see, and definitely hear, the progress coming along.
The newness of the church is undoubtedly exciting for parishioners and students who frequent the current Wisdom, but there is bittersweetness in every change.
As I passed by Wisdom this week, the thought struck me: We are some of the last students to know this version of Our Lady of Wisdom.
The church has been in need of expansion and update, the change will be good! Not to mention the beautiful exterior we have been able to catch glimpses of.
A small part of me, however, is sad that the building I have come to know and love won’t exist one day. Because the current church is built on University property, it will most likely be torn down or repurposed.
I usually try to have a “don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened” attitude, and that is the mentality I am trying to carry into this situation. I just can’t shake a small amount of grief at the transition. Each time I walk through the halls leading to the café, or sit in the Lower Room to do my homework, I find myself taking in each detail.
As I studied in my usual spot this week, I noticed something about one of my favorite paintings. It had a small label and a colored sticker on it. As I looked closer at the rest of the artwork throughout the building I noticed they all shared similar markings. These are their labels that will be used to organize each item when they are moved across to the new building.
In that moment, it became very real. The sound of construction and the conversations with friends about the new church over the years have certainly been real, but this was the first physical evidence I saw of the move actually happening. It was an odd feeling. Somehow, I felt nostalgic for a moment I was living in.
The impressions on the hardwood floor where thousands of people have walked for decades, the bricks that show years of weathering and the patchwork furniture that adorns the study spaces have all become a home to me. While the new church is impressive, there is so much beauty in the humility of the Wisdom I know.
As a freshman, I was absolutely overwhelmed by college. Wisdom was an inviting space, one that I felt I belonged in. I found my favorite study spots and made some of my best friends within those walls. It has been the backdrop for some of the greatest successes and lessons of my college career thus far.
I, as well as many others, have a story for each room of the church. We each have a memory that only the specific smell of the old building can draw up.
As I walked past Our Lady of Wisdom on my way to class, I realized I was feeling the normal aches of change, but that there was still incredibly good news! The building might be changing and there will be a new backdrop to the last years of my college experience, but all the same people will occupy the rooms.
The people I have created such deep relationships with will spill over into the shiny, new church across the street, and maybe I will even make new friendships. I get to take everything that I love with me; the memories, friends and lessons.
Growth can often feel like the loss of something, and that might be true in some cases. In this case, those of us who love Wisdom are saying goodbye to a place that was home for so long and starting a new chapter in a beautiful space. That doesn’t mean this new place won’t be home as well, because our home wasn’t the original four walls of Our Lady of Wisdom to begin with.
Our home was, and always will be, the people that have lived and grown together for decades. I am excited for the future of Our Lady of Wisdom, and I am overjoyed that I have the privilege of taking my home with me wherever we may go.