San Francisco's Gothic masterpiece
Take a hidden tour of Grace Cathedral
It's a blustery spring afternoon in San Francisco, and we are gathered for one of the first-ever behind the scenes tours of that Gothic wonder, Grace Cathedral.
The seat of the Episcopal Diocese of California — and it holds the literal seat of its bishop, more on that in a bit — the cathedral is about twothirds the size of Notre-Dame. With a similar Gothic Revivalstyle architecture with Northern French influence, it gives Parisian visitors deja vu, our guide says.
It may look like a grand flourish sitting atop Nob Hill, but the cathedral is still under construction — as you'll discover now that these tours have opened to the public. Built in 1862, the original structure was destroyed during the 1906 earthquake and ensuing fire. Construction began on the current cathedral in 1927.
Today, the vaulting near the ceiling is unfinished and some statue niches remain empty. “It has been said that a great cathedral is never finished, words that echo the unfinished work of the Spirit,” says Julie Knight, director of cultural membership and visitor experience. Grace will one day be completed, but in the meantime it holds all sorts of neat fundraising activities. There are concerts devoted to the music of Nintendo and Hayao Miyazaki movies, yoga atop its labyrinths, sound baths and now, architectural tours like this new exploration of historic rooms, hidden passageways and ancient artifacts.
Our guide today is Kenn
Sparks who, with a trimmed beard and rumbling basso, has the presence of an Orson Welles.
We stand in the cavernous central hall of the cathedral, which has massive organ pipes in front and also in back. If it didn't, there'd be a quartersecond sound delay, and the front part of the congregation would be singing earlier than the back rows — presumably annoying god.
Waterfalls of peacock-colored stained glass filter in natural light. There are nearly 7,300 square feet of stained glass in the building, depicting more than 1,100 famous figures from Adam and Eve up to Albert Einstein.
Up on a mezzanine is what looks like a child's toy piano. If a child actually played it, though, the results might cause a public emergency. The keys link to dozens of bells in the tower, including a six-ton one that rings the hours. The bells clang to celebrate World Series and Super Bowl wins and other commemorations. Sometimes after service, musicians
like to noodle on the keyboard, playing popular songs like “Over the Rainbow” and “I Left my Heart in San Francisco.”
We enter an ambulatory or hidden passageway located behind the altar. Clergy use this shadowy hallway during services to scurry from one side of the church to the other. A number of beautiful stainedglass windows point toward the Anglican Churches of the Pacific Basin, from New Zealand to Taiwan to Japan.
Now we're inside the vestry, which is paneled entirely in ornate walnut and smells like a classy antique shop.
This is where the California bishop (currently Marc Handley Andrus) keeps a private camp to pray and store liturgical vestments. We observe a bible open to Ezekiel: 35 (“I lay your towns in ruins; you shall become a desolation, and you shall know that I am the LORD”) and run our fingers through the bishop's cloaks — not sure if his eminence would approve of this, but he's not here right now. The vestments
are all hand-sewn, and a member of our group jokes she has a friend who became a bishop “only for the clothes.”
Next up is the Chapel of Grace. This small chapel is normally closed and has Spanish-style wrought-iron gates barring passage from the outside. William Randolph Hearst's body was laid in state here, and Bill Clinton booked it in 1994 to pray during a trip to San Francisco — just him, his thoughts and the Secret Service lurking in the background.
The cathedral holds all manner of unexpected artifacts. There's a circa 1521 stone tomb from France with a coat of arms from the monasticmilitary Knights Hospitaller, Order of Saint John of Jerusalem. According to legend a Crusader knight was interred here but no longer, as French revolutionaries scattered his bones. A Romanesque limestone credence table for the host and wine likely dates to the 12th century; it's the oldest furnishing in the church.