Liturgy for the Solemn Closure of St. Dominic Chapel 
(formerly Lumen Ecclesiae Chapel) at Siena Heights University
Monday, June 15, 2026
1 Kings 8:22, 27-30
Psalm 84:1-5, 11-13
Ephesians 2:19-22
John 14: 1-3, 15-20, 27

Holy Ground. We’re truly standing on Holy Ground as today we assemble to remember the sacred history of this holy place. We contemplate in gratitude for all that God has done in us and for us here. We celebrate in joy all that God has done in us and for us here, and we compassionate one another for the inevitable sense of loss that the closing of these holy doors creates in us.

Our first reading recalls Solomon’s prayer as he stood before the newly completed Temple in the presence of the whole assembly and praised God passionately for God’s fidelity to the covenant love shown to the people in the very place in which they were standing, and he pleaded that the Temple, “this place” as he called it, might always be a special locus of the presence of God. And so it was. As this passage suggests, Temple worship held a place of immense importance to the people of Israel.

And yet, if we compare it to the sacred history of what has happened here in St. Dominic’s Chapel, for almost three quarters of a century, it pales by comparison. For here, at the command of Jesus, the Church’s absolutely unique and incomparable prayer of thanksgiving, the Eucharist, was celebrated countless times, and we, the faithful, were fed with the very life of God.

Also, we’re all aware, I’m sure, that many other extremely significant rituals and ceremonies have been celebrated here, folded into the Eucharist. As our membership grew rapidly, literally hundreds and hundreds of us received the Dominican Habit and pronounced our first and final vows in this holy place. Many funeral liturgies were offered here, retreats were preached in this chapel. General Chapters have taken place here, and many of us have happy memories of wonderful Jubilee celebrations with friends and family within these walls.

But, we would be seriously remiss if we did not also mention the many Siena students, faculty, staff and friends who made it their spiritual home all the while they were with us. Many were in attendance at daily and Sunday liturgies. Baccalaureate Masses celebrated here were a high point, and many a gowned student processed down these aisles at Commencement.

The Chapel was actually a connector between the Motherhouse and the University. And often, while going in one direction or the other, passers through felt invited to stop a brief moment and pray quietly.

In addition, droves of us came back to Adrian every summer to study, and we prayed our daily Office together here. There were so many of us that we were assigned shifts, to come and go on schedule, so that there would be room for all. Sometimes we needed to add chairs to the ends of our pews to accommodate all of us.

The use of St. Dominic’s name, or “Lumen Ecclesiae,” as it was known for many years, kept before us sisters our Dominican heritage of the “Holy Preaching,” which flowed from our contemplative orientation and our own personal relationship with God. Dominic’s compassion for the deeply misled Cathar heretics, whose dualism convinced them of the necessity of abusive penitential practices to placate a vengeful God, has always called us to preach that God is boundless love, tenderness and mercy, with whom we can be ourselves, transparent, trusting and free. This tends to foster in us a spirit of joy and of lightness of heart, that other people often observe in us, and that is sometime called “Dominican Gaudium.”

In the second reading, the Pauline author describes a still deeper and more amazing reality: Not only is God present among us in our holy places, but we ourselves, all of us, are “members of the household of God built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone... in him you also are being built together into a dwelling place of God in the Spirit.” Do we really believe the staggering implications of this truth? Just think of it! In communion with one another, we ourselves become the dwelling place of God. Never mind temples or chapels or churches, as important as these are.

And finally, we spoke earlier of compassionating one another upon our almost inevitable sense of loss as we gently close the doors of this holy place that has meant so much to us for such a long time. As we look at John’s gospel and listen to Jesus addressing those he loved in the most compassionate and comforting of terms, about his approaching departure, we know that he’s speaking to us as well, when he tells us to “not to let our hearts be troubled;” he will remain with us always; he will not leave us orphans, and he will send his Advocate, God’s own Spirit, to dwell with us forever. Jesus assures us that closing the doors of St. Dominic’s Chapel will open new doors for us, and behind them, he will always be waiting.

In closing, I’d like to share the last verse of a poem by Rilke called “The Last Supper.” It’s context is very different from ours, because it deals with the disciples’ fear and desire to flee at the arrest of Jesus. This is certainly not our experience as we come together today. But listen for the last line, because it belongs to all of us. I quote:

He had bid them come to this last meal.
Their hands on the bread tremble as he speaks / tremble in sudden silence as a forest does when a gun is fired. / They long to leave, and they will (depart). But they will find him everywhere.

We, too, will find him everywhere!

---

Note: A news article with highlights video of this solemn liturgy can be found here: 
https://adriandominicans.org/News/siena-heights-community-adrian-dominican-sisters-solemnly-close-st-dominic-chapel-during-liturgy