Most Holy Trinity Church, Wallingford, Conn.

Being a Catholic travel writer, I like to be surprised by ordinary parish churches that have some special attractiveness, history or beauty.

Sometimes those kinds of discoveries are even more exhilarating than the thrill I get walking into a grand cathedral or basilica for the first time.

Most Holy Trinity Church in Wallingford, Conn., not more than 10 minutes from the offices of the National Catholic Register in North Haven, is a good example. For all the times I've driven through the small town on my way to “bigger game” elsewhere, I never realized there was a dynamo of a church minutes from the highway. Now I'm grateful to a friend who told me about it.

This mother parish of the town (pop. 41,800) occupies prime downtown land on Route 5, a busy New England two-lane that rambles through cities and towns from New Haven all the way to the Canadian border. Consequently, many work-aday travelers get to admire at least the magnetic exterior of this substantial, 125-year-old brick edifice.

I stopped in recently to learn that the church was dedicated on Thanksgiving Day, 1887. Since the entire brick exterior was cleaned and restored recently, I picture the church now looking to us much like it did on that dedication day. Even the tall, broad granite steps carved from Leetes Island granite (the quarry is just off the Connecticut shoreline) have gotten the restoration treatment. As I climbed the steep stairs, I looked up to see a gold cross high overhead, proclaiming Christ from atop the church's 190-foot spire. Then I looked down and noticed that the millions of footsteps over the stone steps all these years had barely begun to wear down this hardy gray granite.

Strength in Stone

This was one sturdy edifice for the hefty numbers of Irish immigrants who made up the bulk of the parish in its earliest days. (They were soon followed by waves of transplants from Germany and Hungary; today the parish is a study in diversity.) It was Father Hugh Mallon, one of the parish's first pastors, who saw to the sanctuary's size and strength. Less than a decade after he arrived in 1867, he broke ground, personally designing the cruciform Gothic building after his hometown parish church in Clougher, Ireland.

Initially Father Mallon planned to construct the church out of sandstone. In fact, he bought an entire quarry nearby to ensure consistency. But, after constructing the foundation and noting the considerable strain the ambitious height might place on the lower structure, he decided to switch to brick. The pastor rolled up his sleeves and pitched right in with parishioners in laying the bricks. It helped that, as a young man, he had worked his way through seminary by laboring as a stonemason.

After I learned this part of Most Holy Trinity's story, I went to look again at the memorial stone affixed to the front of the foundation next to the wide center stairway, and to admire the pastor's feat. The memorial identifies him as “founder and builder of this church” and also acts as his tombstone. He died here in 1898 after tending his flock for 30 years and was buried right by the main door of his beloved church.

Most of today's interior is surely different from what would have been familiar to Father Mallon. The spire itself had to be replaced after a lighting bolt and fire destroyed the original after the turn of the 20th century. Then came a series of renovations over the years. Yet, for all its changes from the original design, the interior has a balanced blend of older and newer elements.

The wide nave and transepts, high Gothic ceiling, and light color scheme give the church an open feeling that is grounded at the same time in many reverential details. These include brilliant stained-glass windows and a regal mural of the Holy Trinity high in the apse. At first sight, this oval mural appears like an intricate medieval tapestry realized in muted blues, reds and golds. It appears deeply, yet simply, symbolic. God the Father stands in royal posture with the sun, moon and stars in the background. His garments drape like vestments from his outstretched arms. With his wide-open arms, he presents to us his Crucified Son. In the same gesture, God the Father also seems to want to bless and enfold us.

The outstretched arms of Jesus on the Cross parallel those of his Father's, telling us that he does everything according to the Father's will. He and the Father are one. From above, the Holy Spirit in the form of a gold dove looks to the Father and the Son to complete the Trinity.

Salvation History Lesson

On blue ribs that lead like rays from the mural, stylized angels stand in honor and prayer. Two more angels, St. Michael and St. Gabriel, each fill one of the three stained-glass windows that are framed in triple arches below the mural. The center window depicts a regal Christ the King in glory.

Many other stained-glass windows, mostly paired in tall double lancets, date to the 1940s, but they're filled with brilliant blues, crimson reds and scores of details that recall some of the grandest and oldest cathedrals in the world. A quartet in one transept pictures the four major Old Testament prophets. The quartet facing them from the opposite transept presents the New Testament Evangelists. The placement encourages us to think about their respective places and messages in salvation history.

More exceptional windows in both transepts are dedicated to the Blessed Mother. We're drawn to contemplate Mary in multiple scenes, like miniatures considering the size of the church itself; they depict the Virgin from the Visitation to her being crowned and hailed as Queen of Angels. In them, the artist has captured and emphasized Mary's humility. The scenes are decorated with stylized roses scattered delicately.

These gorgeous windows, with their brilliant hues and bold characters, are set in walls that look like recently restored stonework. But, on closer inspection, this faux stone is the product of different shades of sand-toned paint applied to simulate the light stone. The effect brings a warm, traditional feeling to the nave to complement the late 20th-century sanctuary — rail-less, sweeping and open — with its highly polished wood floor.

The cream-colored faux-stone walls also work to emphasize the reverential and riveting polychrome Stations of the Cross that circle the nave. This traditional bas-relief Way is another way Most Holy Trinity Church, a surprise for ambling pilgrims off the usual path, raises hearts and minds to God — and in the ordinary, day-to-day kind of way that only a historic and humble parish church can.

Joseph Pronechen writes from Trumbull, Connecticut.