Blessed Sacrament Church, Twentynine Palms, Calif.

It took us nearly three hours to drive eastward across Southern California, heading for Joshua Tree National Park from coastal Orange County.

Thanks to the fields of white windmills and the small towns we occasionally sped through, it was an interesting drive. Inside the air-conditioned car, the climate was certainly comfortable enough.

But, by the time we reached the dusty outskirts of the national park, things had changed. I was tired and sweltering — and it wasn't even 10 a.m. When I spotted the immaculate white tower of Twentynine Palms' Blessed Sacrament Church, I wondered briefly if it could be a mirage.

Unexpected sight though it was, this mission-style church is real. In fact, it's a vital part of the desert community that surrounds it — and, thanks to the Eucharistic emphasis of its very name, a wonderful place to pray June 22, feast of Corpus Christi.

Blessed Sacrament celebrated its 50th anniversary on Christmas Eve 1998, but there has been a Catholic presence in Twentynine Palms for more than two centuries: Father Francisco Tomás Garcés, the Spanish missionary, traveled into Alta California (the part of California that's now part of the United States) with Capt. Juan Bautista de Anza's 1774 expedition, which established an overland route into northern California. (According to some accounts, it was Father Garcés' travels that inspired de Anza to journey to northern California — and Father Garcés who guided the expedition across the desert.)

Eventually Father Garcés decided to separate from the expedition so he could better minister to the people of the area the soldiers were exploring. He left with only a mule to carry his provisions and a Chemehuevi Indian boy, Sebastian, to guide him to the native villages.

“Perhaps,” local author Margot Spangenberg speculated in an article about the parish's fiftieth anniversary, “the kindly priest stood under the stately palms of the oasis [of Mara, now inside Joshua Tree National Park] to celebrate the first Mass ever in Twentynine Palms.”

The desert community's population surged after the First World War, as veterans were sent west to recover physically and spiritually from shell shock. Locals asked the Archdiocese of Los Angeles for a priest to serve the veterans, but, due to a priest shortage at the time, the request went unfilled.

Local Catholics were considered part of the Palm Springs parish of Our Lady of Solitude, from which priests traveled on alternating Sundays to say Mass at various locations — hotels and businesses, private homes and even a local swimming pool. (Where else but in Southern California?)

Spiritual Oasis

In 1940, Bishop Charles Buddy set boundaries for a new parish, to be known as Blessed Sacrament. (Bishop Buddy was the first bishop of San Diego; the Diocese of San Bernardino, of which Blessed Sacrament is a part, was not established until 1978.) The first Mass for this new parish was celebrated at a local swimming pool, but parishioners were quick to begin efforts to build a permanent home. One local man donated not only the property for a church and rectory but also the sum of $10,000 to get the ball rolling. In the end, the cost of the church was $45,000.

Today Blessed Sacrament is the hub of a humming Catholic community whose members include students at the parish school. Simply decorated, the church is a serene oasis in the heart of the desert, its domed bell tower a desert landmark. Two mature palms flank the church building, and to the east stretches a serenity garden with low native plants and a birdbath.

These desert trappings may make it seem an atypical home for the faithful, but, inside, Blessed Sacrament is a traditional Catholic church.

Stained-glass windows blaze with images of the community of saints, spangling with color the whitewashed walls and the wooden ceiling from which very necessary ceiling fans hang. The Stations of the Cross are framed paintings that draw in the visitor, bringing him face-to-face with Jesus along the path to Golgotha.

It isn't long before the visitor's eye turns from these lovely images to the centerpiece of Blessed Sacrament: the altar. It is as simple and elegantly functional as the rest of the church. The priest's seat and the cathedra flank the altar, which stands one step above the nave, and a wooden crucifix hangs on the otherwise bare wall behind the small altar. It's all framed by a simple arch and lit by two stained-glass windows that shine onto the crucifix and the altar itself.

Finding Blessed Sacrament so unexpectedly was like coming upon a spring of cool water after enduring a brief, but intense, drought.

After stopping in the church's welcoming silence for a few moments of prayer and recollection, I was ready to head back into the blinding sun and into the wilderness of Joshua Tree Park — knowing that, should I need it, I could always return to this oasis for spiritual refreshment.

Elisabeth Deffner writes from

Orange, California.