All Saint' and All Soul'sat the National Shrine of Mary, Queen of the Universe in Orlando
All Saints' and All Souls at the National Shrine of Mary, Queen of the Universe in Orlando
By: a.d. elliott | Take the Back Roads - Art and Other Odd Adventures
Dear Henry,
We had a surplus of hotel and airline points that were about to expire, and with the city of Orlando’s post-COVID push to draw visitors back, I scheduled a trip to the National Shrine of Mary, Queen of the Universe for the Solemnity of All Saints. I’ve always believed that trips that come together quickly are often trips you are meant to take. So, even though I’m still not entirely sure how one properly “pilgrims,” I flew to Orlando to visit the shrine.
The idea for the basilica emerged in the early 1970s, after the completion of Walt Disney World and the massive influx of tourists that followed. Designed by Rogers, Lovelock, and Fritz, and modeled on the floor plan of St. Peter’s Basilica, the shrine was envisioned as a sacred place for travelers. Fundraising took nearly fifteen years before ground was broken on August 22, 1990, the Feast of the Queenship of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
Construction of the 2,000-seat church took more than 2.5 years, with the first Mass celebrated on January 31, 1993. The formal dedication followed that August, and in 2004, the basilica was elevated to the status of a national shrine.
The shrine offers daily and weekend Masses as well as reconciliation. It is not a parish church and does not host baptisms, weddings, or funerals. This is a place set apart. In addition to the main sanctuary, there is a Marian chapel—smaller and more intimate—featuring museum-quality paintings, a large shrine to Our Lady of Guadalupe, and luminous blue stained glass that seems to soften the air around it.
The basilica’s art, its stained glass, sculpture, and paintings—is extraordinary. Pope Benedict XVI once wrote that the most persuasive apology for Christianity rests on two things: the saints the Church has produced and the art that has grown in her womb. There are many such arguments here.
One of the most striking is The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin, a 9-by-6-foot oil painting from 1640 by Bartolomé Esteban Murillo. Seeing a work of that age and grace housed within a modern pilgrimage church felt like time folding in on itself.
Behind the altar lies the adoration chapel, anchored by a wooden tabernacle carved in the shape of a tree. Contemplating the Eucharist resting within that tree brought the entire story of nourishment, sacrifice, and life into a single image. It was one of the most moving places I’ve ever prayed.
There is no single focal point in the main sanctuary because there are too many worthy ones. The crucifix, nearly 600 pounds of carved linden wood set against beveled glass, portrays a Christ who is calm and at peace, more surrendered than suffering. To the right of the altar stands a Carrara marble statue of Mary and the Infant Jesus by sculptor Jill Burkee, tender and deeply human in its quiet intimacy.
The stained glass windows and the Stations of the Cross are equally captivating, and I must confess that during the Masses I attended, I struggled to keep my eyes forward. My gaze kept drifting, to color, to form, to meaning, which, I suppose, is rather the point.
Still, I’m not entirely sure what I expected to happen. As I walked through the Rosary Garden, I received no dramatic revelations. What I did find was a sense of peace, particularly in the adoration chapel, about the limitations my medical needs impose and the necessity of being more insistent in advocating for my own care.
I also spent time at the Marian shrine, quietly working through unresolved feelings about my mother. That, it seems, is still a work in progress.
The basilica has a wonderful gift shop, well-stocked with rosaries, statues of Mary, and books about the shrine’s art. It also sells recordings by the shrine’s organist, Peter Richard Conte, who is, in a word, magnificent.
Masks are recommended in the main sanctuary, where social distancing is possible, and required in the smaller adoration and Marian chapels.
Of course, you don’t need to be Catholic, or even Christian, to visit the basilica. It is open to everyone: Monday through Friday from 8 to 5, Saturdays from 10 to 7, and Sundays from 7 to 2. Even if you don’t stay for a Mass, the artwork alone is worth the visit.
In a city built on spectacle and motion, the shrine offers something quieter: a place to pause, to breathe, and to find a measure of peace.
____________________________________________________________________
About the Author
a.d. elliott is a wanderer, photographer, and storyteller traveling through life
She shares her journeys at Take the Back Roads, explores new reads at Rite of Fancy, and highlights U.S. military biographies at Everyday Patriot.
You can also browse her online photography gallery at shop.takethebackroads.com.
✨ #TakeTheBackRoads
Enjoyed this post? Support the adventure by visiting my sponsors, shopping the gallery, or buying me a cup of coffee!
