Joan Unterreiner and her husband Ron usually drive past the Shrine of St. Joseph on Sunday mornings. They could stop, but the opening hymns have already been sung, so they continue down the road to a later service at their own church.

After some nagging from her sister, Joan said she finally made the decision to leave home a bit earlier to attend mass at the St. Louis church, which has attracted attention from all over the world.

The service took place in a spacious, glittering sanctuary complete with a belting organ and melodic hallelujahs, but this is not atypical of Catholic churches. Joan soon discovered the distinguishing charm of this particular church lay hidden behind layers of paint covering more than 150 years of wear and tear.

After the mass, tour guide Vince LeBlaze told visitors that the Shrine is a standing miracle — the end-product of 26 years of renovations that began with five local businessmen and $1.

Its silhouette landmarked the St. Louis riverfront in 1846 as a Jesuit church that served the largely German population, but an influx of immigrants in the 1830s gradually changed the demographics in the neighborhood. The German congregation barred non-Germans from their services, so the Irish, Italian and Polish in the area built their own parishes.

As a result, congregation numbers at the church dwindled. Neglect and lack of funds brought the church to shambles by the 1970s, but they continued to hold weekly mass, LeBlaze said. When it became too rundown, the St. Louis Archdiocese elected to build a new parish across the street so that the congregation could relocate.

After the new church was built, five concerned businessmen came forward with restoration plans for the Shrine, and the Archdiocese agreed to rent them the property for pocket change. The businessmen struggled at first to gain public recognition of their objective, but the brutal murder of Edward Filipiak, the Shrine’s priest, put the church back in the spotlight. Help poured in, as people donated their time, money and materials to the face-lift that would cost $5.5 million.

One of the largest obstacles to the renovation was avian infestation, LeBlaze said. Birds had moved into the rafters and bell tower during the Shrine’s stagnant years, spraying the 120-year-old organ and tower rafters with mounds of droppings. The businessmen hired a company to clean out the mess.

“When all was said and done, they hauled out over 100 thousand pounds of bird droppings,” LeBlaze said.

Nearly every aspect of the church needed major repairs, but the pews, which dated back more than 100 years, were not replaced. Renovators simply removed their wooden doors for convenience.

“Jesuits would rent a pew out for ten cents,” LeBlaze said. “By dividing the pews, they could double their revenue.”

Restorations didn’t faze organ player Ralph Ellerbrock, who has played nearly weekly at the church for 65 years. When he was 14 years old, Ellerbrock sang in the choir while his mother played the organ. Soon, however, his piano lessons made it possible for him to switch roles with his mother, and after her death, he took over the job.

“I was very fortunate,” Ellerbrock said. “I can sit down and play any church song. Now, if a bride wants a popular song, I have to really practice.”

He practices four days a week and plays at 90 percent of the Shrine’s weddings. More than 60 weddings took place in the Shrine in 2009.

Ellerbrock’s German family kept him in a close knit community with other immigrants who attended the church. He said he remembers singing German Christmas carols in the choir until World War II, when anti-German sentiment forced the congregation to switch to English-only sermons.

“The only time they talked German was when they didn’t want us to hear what they were saying,” he said.

A lifetime in the church exposed Ellerbrock to miracles that are now a part of him. He said he still lights candles to honor church relics at the request of Marianne Weaver, a New York woman whose daughter was dying.

“[Weaver] called and said her daughter was in a coma for 39 days,” he said. “The last day of the novena she sat up, and said ‘Hi mom, how are you?”

Ellerbrock said he firmly believes that spiritual power radiates throughout the Shrine, and he doesn’t plan on ever abandoning his chair at the organ.

The Vatican in Rome recognizes an 1860s miracle at the Shrine, the only authenticated miracle in the Midwest. Ignatius Strecker, a German immigrant disabled by a chest wound, found himself almost immediately cured during a church service. Area doctors had confirmed that they couldn’t remedy his condition, and he didn’t have much longer to live. Deacon Dan Henroid of the St. Louis Archdiocese said Strecker venerated a relic of Peter Claver, a nurse known for his heroic treatments and baptisms of slaves in the 1600s.

Henroid said that after a rigorous investigation, the Vatican officially proclaimed Peter Claver a saint in 1896, and his relic is still used in some sermons today.

Churchgoers can view this and the Shrine’s other antiquities as they fill the pews every Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

As for Joan Unterreiner, she has finally satisfied 40 years worth of built up curiosity.

“I’m going to call my sister and say, ‘Yes, it was glorious.’”