It's been said that it took two things to put Sioux Falls, S.D., on the map.

One is the falls. (The Sioux River runs right through downtown.) The other is the Cathedral of St. Joseph.

The cathedral, without a doubt the most majestic building in the state, is located high on Fifth Street Hill. The stately church overlooks the city and is especially striking at night, when it is illuminated and visible from Interstate 90.

On a recent visit, I learned that the city's first Catholic church was built in what was then the Dakota Territory. Completed in 1881, the small building was located close to the Sioux River and named St. Michael's Church. It was destroyed by fire in 1883. St. Michael's Church was then rebuilt on the Fifth Street Hill and became the pro-cathedral for the diocese's first shepherd, Benedictine Bishop Martin Marty. St. Michael's Church was subsequently moved and the present cathedral was designed for the same site by renowned architect Emmanuel Masqueray. The first Mass was celebrated here on Dec. 8, 1918.

The foundation stone of St. Joseph Cathedral is Sioux Falls granite. But the church itself, a blend of Romanesque and French Gothic designs, is composed of Indiana limestone. Built to accommodate 800, it takes the shape of a cross.

I was privileged to get a firsthand feel for how instinctively the church's interior causes worship-pers to lift hearts and minds to God. I was not surprised to learn that, in the hours and days following the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, many people — including many non-Catholics — were drawn here by the dozens.

Perhaps it's fitting then that the cathedral's face is framed by bold twin towers. They soar 185 feet into the sky; the north tower houses a bell from the original St. Michael's Church. An enormous bronze statue of St. Joseph watches from the plaza, holding the Child Jesus and greeting the people as they ascend the stairs to enter the cathedral.

There could hardly be a better saint for that job come May 1, feast of St. Joseph the Worker.

He Reigns

Above the front door is a relief of Christ the King. He's attended to by an angel on either side and, from the wings, Sts. Peter and Paul join him in calling the faithful to worship. Beneath Jesus is a Latin inscription: Oportet Illum Regnare. This means, “It is fitting that he reign.”

Inside, I found out that the magnificent organ had fallen into disrepair by 1987, when it was a half-century old. A former physics professor from Minnesota was commissioned to rebuild the instrument, which features an astounding 3,392 pipes.

Above the organ is the cathedral's rose window, the largest single work of stained glass in the church. It depicts Christ the King, robed in red. Surrounding the center window are four lancet windows, representing the whole of the human race, adoring Christ.

As if inspired by their example, Bishop Robert Carlson in 2002 invited the semi-cloistered Sisters of Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament from Vera Cruz, Mexico, to take up residence here. Because of their red-and-white habit, the sisters are sometimes referred to as the “red nuns.” They have developed a monastery in what used to be the rectory.

But the main reason they're here is to see to it that Jesus is perpetually adored in the cathedral's new Eucharistic adoration chapel, as Bishop Carlson instituted perpetual adoration in 2003. Parishioners and other local Catholics come in to join the sisters, known for their joyful spirit, in praying before the Real Presence of Christ.

The new chapel features a floor of imported Italian marble. Pews on each side of the main aisle seat four people to a side for a total capacity of 80 adorers. On one wall are Russian icons of the four evangelists and the three archangels. Near the front of the chapel, to the left if you're facing the Blessed Sacrament, is an ambo comprising a striking bronze eagle. This symbolizes St. John the Evangelist. The eagle supports the lectionary on his back. Confessionals in the rear of the chapel were moved here from the former chapel. In the near future, I learned, a large Eucharistic mural will be painted on the wall behind the altar.

House of David

Back in the cathedral proper, the apse of the sanctuary features seven stained-glass windows that were imported from Europe in the 1940s. They have a Native American flavor.

In the north transept, in the spot that had a St. Joseph altar until 1992, is a baptismal font. A relief on the ceiling above the font depicts the death of St. Joseph.

The statue of St. Joseph and Child from the old shrine was moved to the south transept, next to the statue of Mary, to make the Holy Family Altar. Red vigil lights flicker before the family; a relief on the ceiling overhead depicts the Annunciation.

The Stations of the Cross are statues jutting out from the wall. Above, on the edge of the ceiling on either side of the nave, are medallions of the 12 Apostles.

Throughout the sanctuary are images of pelicans, ancient symbols of Christ as feeder of the faithful. (A pre-Christian legend had it that a mother pelican would strike herself with her beak in times of famine in order to feed her young on her own blood — even at the cost of her own life.)

In the south transept, the main stained-glass window pictures the Blessed Mother, patroness of the United States, holding the baby Jesus on her lap. Below are three lancet stained-glass windows with views tracing Jesus' kingly lineage back to David.

In the north transept, the main stained-glass window shows St. Joseph, patron saint of the universal Church and of the cathedral. Seated regally, he holds this cathedral in his lap.

The St. Joseph window is surrounded by windows showing 10 men at work in various occupations. I picked out a blacksmith, a farmer, a hunter, a judge, a machinist, a miner, a pharmacist, a train engineer, a scribe and a priest. Not a bad image to contemplate on the feast of St. Joseph the Worker.

Joseph Albino writes from Syracuse, New York.