Our Hidden Treasures, the Great Churches of Northeast Kansas

The beautiful old churches built by German and Irish farmers teach us something we need to relearn about beauty and worship.

Families in Kansas City face a dilemma. Kansas City is very old. It has been a major population center since the late 1890s and was one of America’s thriving Midwestern cities throughout the early 20th century. And because of the large numbers of German and Irish immigrants in the region, there are numerous historic and beautiful churches. The Germans and Irish built the churches where they lived; in historic neighborhoods like Westport, the Paseo, and Kansas City, Kansas.

In those days, families lived there and built churches for worship. In the center of the church was the tabernacle placed in an ornate high altar. The church was decorated with statues and paintings which drew the mind to heaven. And the church itself was built to communicate a reality of a church moving together toward God.

But after World War II things began to change. Catholic families followed the rest of society away from city neighborhoods and into a new place called “the suburbs”. At precisely this time, builders selected began throwing off the Church tradition of artistic beauty. Gone were the beautiful churches of Europe, replaced by the so-called “spaceship churches”. Tabernacles were placed off to the side. Churches themselves were built “in the round”, to convey the feeling of communal meal rather than a sacrifice. And beautiful decorations were replaced with banal concrete and plaster. Meanwhile, the population was shifting to the suburbs and the new communities found themselves worshipping in unfit settings.

Most Catholic families, especially young ones, want to worship in a beautiful space. However, the neighborhoods once built for families are no longer fit for their original purpose. Some have become so expensive that none but the ultrawealthy can afford to live there. Certainly not young families in their 20s and 30s. Others have become so poor that they are unsafe for families. And so families cannot live near their desired places of worship. This is where the dilemma begins. Do you attend a church which is close-by but unfit for proper worship, or do you drive 20+ minutes to attend a church which is fit for worship? I submit no right answer, but simply that this is a problem.

In 2022 I led a team which worked on the Value Them Both Amendment. My team and I travelled across the state of Kansas where we spoke to 40,000 voters across 72 cities; most of them small towns. I remember once driving through the Kansas countryside in Doniphan county, just north of Atchison, when I saw a large church. It was far away so I couldn’t make out much, but it was unmistakably a Catholic church. I thought it was odd. I asked my team and they had no idea what it was. We were only a 20 minute drive from Benedictine so it was strange that such a church could be here without our knowledge. At the time I was intrigued, but we had a campaign to fight so I moved on. Little did I know that this church, and others like it, might just hold the key to obtaining what Value Them Both sought.

The church is called St. Benedict’s and it is in Bendena, Kansas. It was built in 1903 by German and Irish farmers. It has a wooden high altar with a statue of St. Benedict, flanked by Sts. Patrick and Boniface. It is simple but beautiful. Upon further research we discovered that this church was one of dozens of beautiful parish churches dotted across the northeast Kansas countryside. All of these churches were built by the immigrant farmers and served by the monks of our own St. Benedict’s Abbey throughout the 19th and 20th century. For example, St. Mary in Purcell which was built in 1896. St. Bede in Kelly, built in 1915. St. Augustine in Fidelity, built in 1925.

There are others. These parishes are built in the traditional style of German and Irish churches. In the center of these churches are tabernacles placed in ornate high altars. These churches are decorated with statues and paintings which draw the mind to heaven. And the churches themselves are built to communicate a reality of a church moving together toward God. All these churches are beautiful but the best is St. Mary’s near Seneca, Kansas (featured image, above). This church is as magnificent as it is massive. It has a large wooden high altar, a painted ceiling, stained glass windows, and statues perched on the columns which line the inside of the church. St. Mary’s can compete with the finest churches anywhere in the United States. And no one has ever heard of it.

The Lessons

Could these churches be the answer to the dilemma Catholic families now face? Potentially. I believe that small towns like Atchison or Seneca are, under the right circumstances, better for families than suburbs. But that is not really what I am here to argue today. Instead, I believe that the hidden treasures of Northeast Kansas teach us something. More specifically, the people who built those churches teach us two important lessons about our mindset.

The first lesson is that our environment matters. The churches, much like the old churches in Kansas City proper, were built by hand by the parishioners who sought to use them. They knew, even if only instinctually, that the environment they worshiped in had a real impact on their faith. The environment in which they worshiped and lived shaped their worldview and brought their hearts to God. This deep understanding should infect us today. We must be aware of the power of our environments and be willing to make changes to them. This can be as simple as hanging religious art on the wall or removing sources of temptation. But it can rise to the level of moving to a new town or getting a new job.

The second of these lessons is that our attitude should be one of quiet determination to serve God.

I’m willing to say that among these farmers and townspeople are dozens of unknown saints. They came together because they wanted to worship God and they were determined to do so. They traveled, often on foot, long distances for Mass. They built churches with their bare hands. They gave of their own time, talent, and treasure so that they could have a place to worship. This quiet determination should serve as an inspiration to us today

But how is it true that these churches may hold the key to obtaining what Value Them Both sought? In a literal sense, Value Them Both sought to overturn unlimited abortion in Kansas. But on a deeper level, the campaign sought to restore to our polity the foundational place of the family, the centrality of religion, and the moral order. In other words, it sought to transform culture. And the builders of our great hidden churches show us how to transform culture. If we show their determination, vision, and diligence we can offer our polity a way of life it desperately wants and needs.

Image: St. Mary in St. Benedict, Kansas, near Seneca.

By Vincent Schiffiano