Saints and spiritual writers offer this encouragement to confident trust in the intercession of the man we honor March 19 as “husband of the Blessed Virgin Mary.”

But the saying had a somewhat ironic ring as my husband and I stared up at the baroque facade of the Shrine of St. Joseph, in St. Louis, Mo. We had wanted to end our weekend visit to the city by going “to Joseph.” Unfortunately, we found the church doors closed and locked.

Gone are the days when St. Joseph’s functioned as a parish, welcoming 1,200 worshipers at each of its five or six Sunday Masses. Built by the Jesuits in 1844, the church once served a German-speaking community and was expanded twice to accommodate the swelling numbers of immigrants moving into the nearby tenements.

No sign of tenements or immigrants now. No Jesuits, either. They left in 1966, when the area turned industrial and parishioners moved away. Amid a decaying landscape of abandoned buildings, factories and old truck terminals, the church fell into disrepair and seemed destined for the wrecking ball.

My husband and I trudged around dispiritedly to the adjoining rectory, past condos and townhouses built during a period of urban renewal in the 1980s. Since the rectory has been uninhabited since 1979, I wasn’t expecting any response.

Oh me of little faith. The door swung open to our knock. Inside were half a dozen people who introduced themselves as “Friends of the Shrine of St. Joseph” — members of the association that has worked for decades to rescue and maintain the site. As they answered our questions and guided us around, it was obvious that the faith and love of God that went into the building of this church live on in the people who are laboring to preserve it.

Healing Happens

Stepping into the gloriously-restored church from its main entrance, you hardly know what to admire first. Pastel-colored light streams in from large stained-glass windows along the side aisles. Stately wooden columns draw the eye to the three altars in front. The ceiling is beautifully painted; over the main altar, portraying the Assumption, saints float on fleecy cloudbanks to Mary’s right and left. In every corner, large hand-carved wooden statues catch the eye.

Near the main door stands the figure of St. Peter Claver, who ministered to slaves in Cartagena, in present-day Colombia. That Jesuit missionary has a special place in the history of St. Joseph’s. In 1862, a factory worker named Ignatius Strecker was healed here, through his intercession.

Strecker had received a chest wound on the job nine months before. When tuberculosis set in, doctors gave him up for dead. From his wife, he heard that a missionary was in town, preaching about Blessed Peter Claver (who had not yet been canonized) and inviting the faithful to venerate his relic.

Without ever having heard of Peter Claver, Strecker felt moved to invoke his help. Dragging himself to St. Joseph’s, the sick man kissed the relic and experienced an immediate surge of strength. He returned to work the next day. Within a week or two, every sign of illness had disappeared.

Church authorities investigated the healing and declared it an authentic miracle. In fact, it was chosen as one of the two miracles required to complete the process of Peter Claver’s canonization, which took place in 1888.

St. Joseph’s ornately carved main altar — each detail an invitation to meditation — commemorates another wondrous event in the church’s history. The high-rising wooden structure features statues of the authors of the gospels, along with Jesuit saints Ignatius Loyola and Francis Xavier. But center-stage position goes to St. Joseph, who is pictured with a youthful Jesus, under the inscription, Ite ad Joseph (Go to Joseph.)

That is exactly what the church’s parishioners did in 1866, as a cholera epidemic ravaged St. Louis, causing up to 280 deaths a day. St. Joseph’s church alone was seeing 10 and as many as 25 funerals daily.

One Sunday morning, Father Joseph Weber proposed to his parishioners that they ask St. Joseph to intercede. Together, they vowed that if they were spared further deaths from the epidemic, they would erect a suitable monument in honor of the saint. Amazingly, as parish records testify, not one member from all the families who signed the vow succumbed to cholera after that day.

Parishioners made good on their promise and gave generously toward the construction of the Altar of Answered Prayers. As many people today will testify, this “suitable monument” remains a place where prayers are answered through St. Joseph’s intercession.

 You can’t visit the Shrine of St. Joseph without offering a prayer of thanks for Father Edward Filipiak, who served as its administrator in the 1970s. With no parishioners to fund repairs, these were the church’s darkest days.

Holes in the roof let in pigeons and rain. Fifty tons of bird droppings clogged the towers and kept the bells from ringing. The same problem plagued the once-magnificent Pfeffer organ. Stained-glass windows sagged and lost panes. Conditions were even worse in the rectory. “Not fit for animals,” said one concerned visitor. But the tenacious priest insisted on remaining there, suspecting that the archdiocese would raze the church if he ever moved out.

Father Filipiak never lost hope of seeing St. Joseph’s returned to its original glory. It wasn’t just the building’s physical beauty he wanted to ensure, but also its rich legacy of faith.

“I’d die for this church,” he used to say.

By 1979, a group of five local men had rallied around the 79-year-old priest to begin restoration. But fund-raising efforts met with little success.

Then, on Sep. 29, 1979, three teen-agers broke into the rectory and murdered Father Filipiak in his bed for a few worthless items. The senseless killing galvanized the local community. Donations poured in from Catholics and non-Catholics. Volunteers signed on and the “Friends of St. Joseph’s Shrine” assumed its ongoing labor of love.

So “go to Joseph” next time you’re in St. Louis. You’ll come away refreshed by its beauty and inspired by its witness to faith that endures from generation to generation.

Louise Perrotta lives in Ann Arbor, Michigan. She is the author of St. Joseph: His Life and

His Role in the Church Today (Our Sunday Visitor).

Planning Your Visit

Mass is celebrated every Sunday at 11 a.m. and on First Fridays at noon. For other events, as well as a virtual tour and history, visit the shrine’s website: shrineofstjoseph.org.

Getting There

The Shrine of St. Joseph stands at the corner of North 11th Street and Biddle, in downtown St. Louis, less than a mile from the riverfront Gateway Arch. Maps and driving directions are available online.