A labor of love and an ‘itch to stitch’

On Chicago’s West Side just east of the Kennedy Expressway, lies an area called River West. Nestled between the Kennedy and the north branch of the Chicago River is a City icon: 825 North Carpenter Street.

That address may not mean much if you’re not from Chicago. But at this address within Chicago’s West Side, lies St. John Cantius Church.

Unique in many ways – with its own priestly order, the Canons Regular, and its unique mission to restore sacred liturgies – the church, originally built by Polish immigrants, stands out. It’s also home to a group of faithful women who gather on Saturday mornings and practice a trade that was once considered dying.

“One of our very first projects was resetting a 100-year-old purple velvet chasuble,” says Julie Streeter, the director of the group, “The fabric was too worn to work for Mass, but the embroidery was still in good shape.”

Streeter is the director of St. Martha’s Guild – a ministry of St. John Cantius with a mission to restore the art of liturgical needlework. It was a mission set into motion at the request of the pastor, whose charge was to “chase down all of the skillsets” needed to produce the high-quality liturgical vestments and linens of old.

“Their mother Superiors were not keen on the idea of having several enthusiastic stitchers pestering these dear women…”

These beautiful works of art and labors of love had gone out of style – being slowly replaced with those mass-produced of polyester.

“The difficulty was that the people who knew all of the secrets and methods were cloistered elderly nuns,” says Streeter, “Their mother Superiors were not keen on the idea of having several enthusiastic stitchers pestering these dear women for their knowledge, so we troll through YouTube videos and old books, and dissect retired vestments.”

Each piece tells a story

Each piece brought into the sewing room at 825 North Carpenter Street tells a story. Take, for example, the 100-year-old purple chasuble from the group’s founding. One can only imagine how many of God’s servants were clothed in its fabric, made lovingly by the hands of a cloistered nun who made it her life’s mission to serve God through her skills.

But now, aging and showing wear that extended beyond just the simple patina of age or wisdom, the piece needed help. Enter: the Guild.

“We took the whole thing apart, put it back together again with new velvet, better crystals, and embroidered pieces to make the matching burse, stole, maniple, and chalice veil. It was brutal and embarrassing how bad we were, with several sessions spent unstitching our stitching, and a fair amount of ‘unladylike muttering,’” says Streeter of the project, adding that velvet is “very tricky.”

But work on a piece is meditative, prayerful even. The Guild’s website mentions that their sewing is prayerfully offered for three specific intentions: As an “intercessory act” for the Canons Regular who ultimately use their pieces, in “reparation and to implore mercy for the sins of the world,” and “to implore mercy” for personal sins as well as in the prayer of individual intentions.

Through prayers and under learning hands, God’s providence was intimately visible through the whole process of restoring the chasable:

“Truly wonderful moments happened, like when we discovered that the antique embroidery frame that we were using to create the missing pieces came from the convent that originally made the set 100 years earlier. It is quite possible that we even used the same frame. That was pretty mind-blowing. And those ‘better crystals’ are visually arresting at Mass under the lights.”

It is quite possible that we even used the same frame. That was pretty mind-blowing.

The finished piece was again able to be in the Lord’s presence in Mass and, according to Streeter, was a sight to behold “I was almost afraid that we had overdone it, but not according to the people who have seen it in action. That wow factor helps you keep your focus on what’s going on at the altar.”

Continuing the mission… it’s a long mission

The work is never-ending for the guild, which now operates its mission out of the parish sewing room – a room with high ceilings and large windows on three sides. In this room, the twenty or so guild members plug away every Saturday morning, with many dropping in throughout the week when, according to Streeter, they have “an itch to stitch.”

“There’s nothing typical about the work lineup. Last week, we were chain stitching a few vesperales, embroidering an amice, resetting a Roman low Mass set – featuring John the Baptist – with new silk, fixing a bunch of servers’ cassocks, and repairing the lining on a red silk cope,” listed Streeter, “Officially we stitch for four hours on Saturday morning, sometimes we get carried away and stay until after dinner.”

But if you thought that was it, you’d be wrong – the list continued: “making a new sash for one of the priests, repairing a lace edge on a linen altar cloth, gold leafing a small metal case to hold a relic, oh, and the leather bellows blew out on the small church organ so we fished out our white deerskin (of course we have that) and made a new one.”

“oh, and the leather bellows blew out on the small church organ so we fished out our white deerskin (of course we have that) and made a new one.”

The guild even assisted in the restoration of a wax reliquary (called a simulacrum) containing a first-class relic of St. Lucy.

And everyone is welcome – no sewing skills needed: “We look for someone who likes beautiful things and is attracted to fussy detailed work. We can teach the rest easily” says Streeter. “The woman who handles the specialty cleaning projects for the parish–she does beautiful work on restorations, tidying up the loose threads and straightening everything up. Also, the operating room nurse who ‘sutures’ linen like a master. Both were new to sewing.”

No project is too big for the women of the Guild – each piece is a learning experience and a way to glorify God.

It’s a labor of love

In explaining why she does what she does, Streeter mentioned a reading in Exodus starting in chapter 26, which includes Moses and God having a conversation about the building of the Tabernacle – “It sounds a lot like the magnificent vestments and altar dressings that we used to see. Mass looked royal.”

But there’s a reason why this work was considered a dying art and why the Guild was started in the first place. The process is long. Very long.

“Our Cadillac purificator takes seven hours to make with hand-stitched hems, tatted lace, and a carefully embroidered cross.” With this time and significant effort, it is not hard to understand why low-cost polyester produced overseas might look appealing.

But for the women of 825 North Carpenter Street in River West between the Chicago River and the Kennedy Expressway on Chicago’s West Side, it’s not just a chore. It’s a “pursuit [that] enriches and feeds our affection for beauty.” The beauty of tradition or, more simply, hard work leading to a greater purpose. Because it’s always about the greater purpose:

“Making a fine altar linen for one’s own parish is a significant offering to the liturgy, and that offering of labor fosters lovely spiritual growth. This aspect has been largely lost today” says Streeter, who adds that the group holds classes for religious sisters and other women with an interest in sewing from other parishes.

The hope is to “return this work to the convents and the sewing ladies at the local parishes.”

But at the end of the day, the work doesn’t stop, and the women of St. Martha’s Guild continue the good work of ensuring their priests at St. John Cantius are clothed in only the finest when they say Mass; patiently and painstakingly restoring each piece. All are welcome to contribute to the cause – all you need is ‘an itch to stitch.’

“We’re diving into a Marian solemn set for the feast of the Assumption, which is the founding day for the Canons Regular of St. John Cantius. The project will incorporate lots of gold metal embroidery. Most of the women will be new to this technique. We expect to learn a lot, and I expect that there will be lots of Rumpelstiltskin jokes.” ■

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