WHILE FORMING THE German Empire, Otto von Bismarck feared the power of the Catholic clergy, so he banished virtually all of them. Five Franciscans who had taken a vow of poverty arrived in Indianapolis in 1875 to build a parish for the burgeoning German Catholic population. Their masterwork, Sacred Heart, served both the spiritual and social needs of German speakers on the south side. Designed in the late Gothic revival style using red brick and limestone, it has twin steeples towering 165 feet surmounted by copper spires. Three heavy oak doors with iron latches evoking a medieval castle open onto the sanctuary, which seats 800. The eyes strain to take it all in: five altars replete with intricate carvings, many covered in 22-karat gold leaf; 32 statues; seven paintings; 17 bas-relief sculptures; and 23 stained glass windows in the Munich style, with realistic depictions and jewel tones. On the ceiling, angels playing instruments are painted in the style of Renaissance master Fra Angelico; in contrast, the ribs of the vaults are stenciled in a vibrant chevron motif.
In 2001, an electrical fire destroyed the main altar and part of the ceiling; all else succumbed to smoke or water damage. The painstakingly detailed reconstruction took 19 months. The hand-carved white oak pews were saved but bear singe marks.
During World War I, many members still had close family in Germany. To bolster their spirits, the pastor at the time continually emphasized that the U.S. was fighting the kaiser, not the German people. But animus toward German culture took hold. Indiana outlawed teaching German in schools. Though 167 of the parish’s men served in the war, community suspicions weren’t allayed. One Sunday morning in October 1918, mass was held on a nearby field because of concerns about the spreading Spanish flu. A panicky—and anonymous—call came in to police reporting a crowd “spreading German propaganda,” prompting the police to investigate the purported threat. Later, the pastor again tried to comfort his flock, writing to them, “Hatred, like love, makes [one] blind. … We will always have such in our midst.”
