Two days in Vienna

My awkward biking experience and a defense of beauty in the Christian expressions of faith.

If you would like to listen as I read this essay, just tap the play button below.

In the past, when I envisioned travel to exotic places, I dreamt mostly of the UK: Ireland, England, and Scotland to be precise. I have Scottish and English roots so the UK has always been a big draw for me. I still long to visit those countries, but now, after experiencing countries and cities that were never on my bucket list, I realize how little I know about the larger world.

This planet is covered with countless beautiful places, interesting people, cultures, and languages that you and I will never be able to experience in this single lifetime.

Yet our Father sees and loves them all.

Let that marinate for a minute.

Villages like this line the Danube River all throughout Austria. In each one stood at least one church, the steeples soaring high into the sky like heralds for the weary to come home.

Ok, back to my journal from our Danube River cruise…Oh, Vienna, what a lovely place you are!

Thursday, October 23, 2025

11:20 pm

(51 degrees and rainy)

The CityMapper app said it would take 17 minutes to bike to the cathedral. Well, that only applies to those who bike often and ride fast. We had the bikes for only 1 hour and at 3:30 hadn’t made it to the cathedral but had also not crashed or run into anyone despite the fact we were biking during RUSH HOUR and had not ridden bikes in YEARS. Mercy. But we made it back to the boat (no cathedral but that’s ok) without further issues.

When we were in Vienna, we unfortunately gave a few of the locals something to complain about when they got home. Upon our arrival, the cruise director rented several bikes for us since we ended up with extra time that first afternoon in Vienna (due to departing from Slovakia instead of Budapest). Kyle and I though it would be fun to take advantage of the opportunity and venture into the city to find St. Stephen’s Cathedral. I had seen photos of it and couldn’t wait to lay eyes on it, myself. We were allowed to use the bikes for one hour (from 3-4 o’clock in our case), which should have been plenty. After I managed to get my balance (the bike was a bit too tall for me and I’m not exactly the most experienced rider) we pedaled away from the dock and headed, confidently, into town. We started off on the sidewalks where the masses where walking, but quickly realized they were giving us not-so-happy looks. After about five minutes of awkward moments and confusion, Kyle saw a green painted strip that led us across the street onto the designated bike lanes. OH, no wonder people were mad! Oops. The city is built for bicycles, complete with specific traffic lights for the bike riders!

I’ll leave out the part about how slow we were compared to those who do this EVERY DAY.

Taken by my sweet husband (unbeknownst to me!). Proof that I did, in fact, bike in Vienna and lived to tell about it :)

We had to stop constantly to discern the street signs (which were in German, of course), compare them to what the City Mapper app was telling us, and figure out which way we were supposed to go when the intersections sometimes gave us six different options! But, even though we had to turn around and head back to the river without seeing the cathedral, we were able to take in the beautiful architecture and art that graces every single street in Vienna. It was breathtaking. Vienna is incredibly beautiful.

Back to my journal…

After dinner (Wienerschnitzel!) we took a bus to attend a performance at the symphony. It was MAGICAL! Music, opera, ballet–it was so beautiful I was wiping away tears.

The symphony performance was one of my favorite experiences on this trip. Simply amazing!

The gorgeous ceiling of the symphony hall.

30 years of us. Not a bad way to mark this milestone!

The next day, Friday, was a full day of touring Vienna, completely making up for our failed quest the day before. Here is my journal entry:

Friday, October 24, 2025

1:24 pm

(54 degrees)

After this morning’s breakfast, we went on a tour of Vienna’s historic downtown. Our guide, Verena, was absolutely amazing. Not only was she friendly and knowledgeable, her voice and Austrian accent, followed by the sweetest giggle and occasional timely jokes, made her positively endearing. Kyle said she is the Bob Ross of Viennese tour guides. A perfect description!

I just want to step in here and say, once again, how thankful I am that I brought this journal. I had completely forgotten about Verena. She had meshed into the haze of memories from the trip and I couldn’t have remembered her name if I tried…until I opened my journal to this entry. Then it all came back, including her expression and the sound of her voice. What a gift to have this at my fingertips!

We rode on a bus from the river to the Ringstrasse. We saw a palace (The Hofburg), walking through ancient arches to see incredible, ornate architecture. The most sobering moment was seeing the balcony where Hitler stood to give one of his big speeches, claiming Austria for Nazi Germany. We learned about a young empress (Sisi) who was so vain she would not allow any portraits painted when she started aging (in her 30’s!). Verena said Sisi likely struggled with depression and anorexia. To think, there was no understanding of or help for those conditions when she lived. How tragic.

After touring the palace complex, where we passed military carrying machine guns, saw the Lipizzaner stallions in their stables, and saw countless statues and remnants of history dating back well over a thousand years (including a section of Roman road and buildings upon which Vienna is built) we had an hour to explore on our own. Kyle and I walked to St. Stephen’s cathedral.

There was such a beautiful sense of history and faith there, but also the uncomfortable feeling of intruding in the personal space of those who were there to pray or sit in silence with God. And the gift shop…that most definitely felt out of place.

St. Stephen's Cathedral

I wish I could describe the feeling of walking into the nave of that enormous, ornate Cathedral. Everything about the architecture draws your attention up. Every inch of it is intentionally designed to teach what people of that time were unable to learn on their own, for they did not have access to Bibles and very likely couldn’t have read them if they did. Yes, the Church had its (major) issues and much of what the Reformation pushed back against was the lust for money and power which were used to keep the people of Europe under the thumb of the church leaders and government.

But God meets us where we are. And I believe He met them, as well.

I could feel the sense of reverence, of otherworldliness, and the centuries of prayers that had been, and are still being, uttered in every nook and cranny of the building. What have these walls seen? How many candles have been lit? All those people praying before the multiple altars, quietly faithful despite the crowds of tourists that pass through every day, do they know? Do they realize how precious they are to God? Do they think they have to prove themselves or are they able to rest in the finished work of Jesus?

I thought back to the modern churches at home, the big boxes built to encase the masses. No windows, no stained glass, no art retelling the old, old story in ways that encourage holy imagination. Stages with smoke crawling across the feet of performers, lights and engineered sound, everyone facing forward and clapping on cue. Beauty has been pushed aside, the sanctuary reduced to a corral.

Standing beneath spires so tall I could barely make out the details, feeling small and insignificant yet intimately connected to the love and majesty of God, made me want to cry out on the streets against the ugliness that has become the Western evangelical way of worship. It is just so barren.

Believe me, I am painfully aware of the corruption that riddled the church in the Middle Ages. I know people were going hungry while these architectural masterpieces were being built upon their backs. But, I also believe we have neglected our God-given hunger for beauty. The Tabernacle and Temple of the Lord were masterpieces, each detail lovingly fashioned by people given artistic gifts by the Spirit who designed them. The desire to look upon and create beauty is an integral part of our design as the imago dei, but we forget.

We forget and we settle for dark, bare rooms with no natural light. We sit and observe while our bodies long to participate in, not just react to, the Story our God is telling. Charity and Beauty are not mutually exclusive. We can care for the poor while also creating spaces that force our gaze heavenward instead of simply staring forward to where the spotlight shines while we sit in the dark.

After experiencing the grandeur of cathedrals and chapels of every size and architectural style imaginable, I find myself more enthusiastic than ever about beauty’s place in our church communities. For, the reality is, if we do not encourage and allow the expression of all varieties of artistic gifts (not just those of singers and musicians) within our communities, where else will the artists go to use their God-given skills and talents? Part of making disciples is teaching them how to love God and others through the gifts they have been given, all of them, for the glory of God.

Artistically, many church communities have thrown the baby out with the bathwater. I, for one, am enthusiastically in favor of saving the baby.

So many emotions are conveyed in this photo.

Next stop, Durnstein, Austria.

I can hardly wait to write about this idyllic little village!

For more about art and worship, see:

Psalm 149:3

Psalm 150

Exodus 35:30-35

2 Kings 7:13-14

2 Chronicles 2:13-15