St James-the-Loss ?

The founders of the Cambridge-Camden Society believed the antidote to the evils of the 19th century was a return to medieval piety. Their early thrust was restoration of the medieval architectural setting for worship in the Anglican Church. Their generosity of advice was paired with their prickly attitude toward anyone who did not accept it wholeheartedly. Their zeal extended to “the colonies” which resulted in one of the most charming and influential churches in America, St. James-the-Less in Philadelphia. (The Society lives on with only a short break in continuity as The Ecclesiolgoical Society.)

In response to a request to the Society for design assistance with their Episcopal church, the Pennsylvania congregation received measured drawings of a 13th century parish church, St. Michael’s, Longstanton, Cambridgeshire. The congregation faithfully reproduced the model high above the Schuylkill River, changing only the length of the structure and selection of stone in the 1846 construction.

In fine ecclesiological fashion, the nave and long chancel are clearly expressed in the exterior massing of the building. The later addition of the sacristy only enhanced the picturesque composition – a guiding principal of the increasingly archeological Gothic Revival. The long steep rooflines, as seen on the south porch entrance enhance the sense of shelter and worshipful repose.

On a recent visit, the cold, drizzly day seemed appropriate to the disuse into which St. James-the-Less has fallen in the past several years. This is not to be blamed on neglect. The too-familiar story is of a congregation, rejecting the theological trajectory of the Episcopal Church, disaffiliated itself from the denomination. The odd result of legal wrangling held that the congregation owned the church building, but held it in trust for the diocese, who evicted them. We should not force too much irony on the fact that the congregation now worships in a nearby cemetery chapel – as much of charm of St. James-the-Less is its setting among gravestones, old and not-so-old.

Given the situation, we had no expectation that we could even gain access for exterior photography. Happily, we were greeted by a young man associated with another diocesan church, who was waiting for visiting group. He offered to let us tag along with a small group of clerics from the Reformed Catholic Church.

That ushered us into the church where darkness and sight lines obstructed by columns and by a rich rood screen were a reminder that lay participation in the medieval mass, celebrated in the divided chancel, was decidedly passive. Electric lighting struggled against the shadows, while the discoloration of the arcade springing was attributed to match strikes for the original chandeliers. Discolored stone on the pulpit indicated a hand rest for the deliverers of countless sermons.

In addition to the pulpit, the expected liturgical centers were there, altar, lectern, font, side chapel. The stained glass was obviously there to set a mood and tell a story rather than provide illumination.

St James the Less has been assumed as a mission by St Mark’s, the historic John Notman church in Center City Philadelphia. They should have experience and skill in preserving and using a historic structure. Let’s hope that they can do that. Nothing leads to loss like disuse. Nothing preserves like an active, resident congregation. Loss or damage of St. James-the-Less would be tragic from an architectural standpoint. From a spiritual standpoint, good stewardship demands a Kingdom use of this treasure.

UPDATE: I had a pleasant email exchange with Father Ousley, rector of the congregation formerly at St James. He confirms that the attribution of marks on the column springing to match strikes is in a written church history. However they have determined that the discoloration is from greens hung at Christmas. The congregation presently worships at the chapel at West Laurel Hill Cemetery. He also relates, "West Laurel Hill was founded by the same gentlemen who founded Laurel Hill Cemetery, and gave St James the first part of the land on which it is built. A nice historical touch."

Europe and then some

saint john the divine 1/5
Originally uploaded by musiquegirl

Just to prove this blogs motto, "it's all here anyway," here are Ghiberti's North American doors. Cram would have none such copying, by the way, hence he commissioned impressive new bronze doors (depicted above) for St. John the Divine. Some nice details of the south New Testament door here.
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Incidentally, Maureen Mullarkey's article on the North American tour of the original Gates of Pardise is a tour de force.

Lenten Special

St. Bernadette's
Originally uploaded by millinerd

And here's the inside.

Flannery's Church

Cathedral of St. John the Baptist, Savannah
Originally uploaded by millinerd

John H., a friend who was driving through Savannah, sent in this shot (with info) of the home church of Flannery O'Connor. There is some nice exegesis of the interior at the church website, but I thought the menacing trees in John's photo was very O'Connoresque.

Cathedrals Gone Wild

Saint John The Divine - The Front
Originally uploaded by *Checco*

The quality of flickr photography of the newly renovated Cathedral of St. John the Divine (which could have been otherwise) is duly impressive. This one - because of the menacing lights - was my favorite, though I recently took a few myself:

Call me prudish, but I thought St. Bernard's stained glass vision was a bit much. Not to mention Ruth seducing Naomi in the stonework. Then there's the matter of the pin-up tympanum on the National Cathedral in Washington D.C. It will come as no surprise that these are both Episcopal Cathedrals.

I'm well aware that salacious imagery on churches has a long history, and I'm all for a nuanced appreciation of Bernard's Song of Songs sermons, but about these depictions I just don't know. Yes, the Christian tradition teaches that the body is good - but it also teaches that we aren't. Hence, you can get away with things in the realm of literature that you can't get away with in art. Still, I would represent my level of suspicion in regard to these representations as a yellow light, not necessarily a red one - though I'm open to being convinced otherwise.

What I can say is that at least at the Saint John the Divine portal, most will be distracted by a more remarkable carving, the twin towers falling in an imagined apocalyptic scene, carved in... wait for it... 1997.

An Architecture Timeline

I made a timeline for a presentation I did, and thought I would share it here. I've put in most of the major movements in North American church architecture. While it shows bars as to when they begin and end, of course there are many after each bar ends, and, in some cases, some before. I've tried to just show the major time periods. I also put some major events that had bearing on church architecture below it. See if I left anything out you think is important (other than the Akron plan—which I really considered).

Complimentary Cram

It's nice to see that Ralph Adams Cram's Ministry of Art is free online. I am usually suspicious of those who glorify art, but not as much with Cram. Perhaps this is because he understood clearly that "religion leads, it does not follow" (My Life in Architecture, 276). That from about the only Cram book that's not free at the Internet Archive. Wow.

Good Enough for Horses

Some of the goals of Shadyside Presbyterian Church’s Building Community Capital Project include a welcoming fellowship space adjacent to the sanctuary, a recognizable Westminster Place entrance and easy, accessible circulation within the structure. The complexity of the pastor’s directions to the Parish Hall for coffee hour can be risible. The journey includes going outside, negotiating steep stairs or traversing the mysterious undercroft.The enclosure of the cloister courtyard accomplishes the goals, and in the bargain re-establishes an old north-south circulation axis.

For its first forty-five years, Shadyside Church consisted of the sanctuary building and the chapel joined by a colonnaded walkway, separated by a narrow space. The human scale of the present entrance opening to the street obscures its original purpose.In 1890, some would have arrived at the church by horse and carriage. It has been a matter of mild curiosity that there was no obvious porte-cochere – so common in that era.

A City of Pittsburgh plat plan was a hint that this amenity had not been ignored. It indicates a pathway through the colonnade between the church and chapel. Recently re-discovered site information and close inspection of an old photo seem to confirm that the present opening through the covered walkway extended down to street level. It provided a sheltered disembarkation at an east-end door of the nave. A moderate downward slope reached the location of the present Parish Hall for the carriage to wait or turn for exit.

By the 1930s, auto travel made the passage unnecessary or impractical. Addition of the chancel apse and office space made it impossible. The elevated floor level in the colonnade and the raised ground level between church and chapel allowed the original use to fade from memory.A new porte-cochere will be extruded toward the street from the existing segmental arch opening – shelter at the new Westminster door. The renewed circulation axis will extend through the atrium to ministry/business offices as well to a new stair tower to the Parish Hall and Christian Ed/Nursery School facilities. (The existing elevator offers alternate access.) At the head of the stair, a window will look down into the renovated Parish Hall. The atrium will not only be a pass-through, but a convenient gathering space after worship, with ample access to the welcoming Parlor.

The rediscovery of the original circulation axis pathway did not suggest its re-establishment. However the size, shape and location of the courtyard that replaced it did. More detail of the project plans are here. A now & then comparison.

Set design for "Shrek the Musical"

Sometimes it's not the sun bursting through the rose window, but another sphere entirely: The wrecking ball. A while back at the First Things blog, there was a tenderly written essay by Stephen Vincent about demolished neighborhoods in New York City.

I lived through Vatican II, receiving First Communion at the council’s close in 1965 and Confirmation in 1967, as the new Mass and other innovations got their sputtering starts. By 1969, the school and church along First Avenue were closed and another wrecking ball came crashing through the stained glass and fine masonry. The strongest support and sanctuary in a changing city had gone away, in the most violent fashion imaginable. The world, it seemed, had won.

It reminds me of that awful scene at the end of Schrek (I) where the dragon smashes the stained glass, after which I suppose all the kids in the audience are supposed to cheer.

For another heartbreaking tale of urban destruction, consider this characteristically insightful John J. Miller interview (who has a gift for asking good questions). The Little Pink House is a cautionary tale. I wonder how many churches have been destroyed under the aegis of eminent domain.

For all your Akron-Style Needs

I found this ad in the 1910 Baptist Yearbook, for help in converting your space to an Akron-like style. See how easy they are?

I would have posted this over here, but it's technically about England, and to our blog's geographical proscriptions we must be true.

The Shrine reports on a fire at the Chicago Cathedral. It's reason to stop and consider the sobering words of Nathan Glazer.

First Baptist Church of Hightstown, NJ

This church, where I served as choir director/organist/bell choir director for four years, was founded in 1745. It was the seventh Baptist church in New Jersey, and the fortieth in the nation (which wasn't even a nation yet). It was founded in Cranbury, where it met in members' homes. The church moved to Hightstown (just about four miles down the road) in 1784, upon agreement with the Presbyterians that Hightstown would be Baptist and Cranbury would be Presbyterian. They first met in a member's barn, and eventually built a meetinghouse downtown. This artist's rendering shows a steeple on the meetinghouse, but I don't think that actually ever happened, as one is not visible in this 1895 photograph (the brick church is the vine-covered building directly behind them).

Growing too large, the church built in 1856-1857 the present sanctuary, which seated about 600. The place where the organ is (a 1914 Austin) was added on, I believe, in 1881 when a Roosevelt organ was given by Wilson G. Hunt. The addition is the perfect time for the inclusion of the proscenium arch, which was common in the period and focuses attention to the pulpit area. Although today the walls are a plain yellow, this photo from the 1910s shows the extensive decorative work that was there, as well as the large chandelier that is no longer present.

The original steeple was very tall, as seen here and here. It is a classic Wren-Gibbs style church. The steeple was struck by lightning during a Peddie school program, and so in 1920 (I believe it was) a second steeple was built. This one has a slightly more Federalist look than before, and almost overpowers the building. That steeple was condemned in the 1950s because of weakness caused by the swinging of the bell, and the current one was built.

The church has recently completed a renovation of the sanctuary, so I will leave you with some pictures of the new space. The pulpit was extended into the room, and it was brightened up a bit with new paint and lights.

Interesting facts on inauguration churches.

A 19th Century Baptist on Architecture

At the second annual Baptist Congress of 1883, Dr. S.L. Caldwell, a former pastor, professor, and president of Vassar College, concluded a discussion on the merits of church architecture, especially for the Baptist ideal of the spoken word, with the following:

"...when we come to the exterior of churches I hold to what you may call the ecclesiastical idea. I don't like to see a church which is like every thing else, like all the buildings on the street, like all the public buildings. I like to have something uncommon, something which we have inherited, something which has come down with our Christianity; not a radical innovation, not some brand new thing which has been conceived by some rabid architect, but the old-style structure with its spire pointing heavenward, with the familiar form which marks it as the house of God, with the sign that it is set apart to the uses of religion, that is what I want to see."


Interesting, especially since they were meeting in the former theater, Boston's Tremont Temple.

Christ Among the People

Christ Among the People
Originally uploaded by millinerd

This was taken tonight at the American Boychoir School Christmas concert at the Princeton University Chapel. (Iconographical details available in the tags here.) The incarnation has many unforeseen implications. Merry Advent North American Churches readers!

Sold St. Nick

I wonder how the Hindus who have purchased the building will alter St. Nicholas in Edison. It'd be nice to get some pictures before we find out.

A curious list of unusual churches with some North American examples.

Praisebuildings.com may not be the Institute for Sacred Architecture, but it's at least interesting, with a nice dictionary of ecclesiastical architecture.

Upjohn in Maine

First Parish Chruch, Brunswick
Originally uploaded by millinerd

Over Thanksgiving I was reading the world's best Brooklyn guidebook, and I saw that the first church Morrone lists for Richard Upjohn senior is in Brunswick, Maine. (Incidentally, the "untold" Buffalo church viewable immediately below is also Upjohn.)

Fittingly, I happened to be spending Thanksgiving in Bruswick, Maine. So I marched down the street and got some shots, and then snuck in on my way out of town during choir practice for some interiors. Who knew Upjohn worked as well in wood as in stone? And the glorious intricacy of those hammer trusses (I think that's the term) sure do show off the medium.

The statue near First Church is of Joshua Morrison. He lived in the cross-inscribed house across the street.

Incidentally, I like Francis Morrone so much that even I'm considering enrolling in one of his courses. These two sound thrilling.

I was also pleased to discover that nearby beautiful Bowdoin College has a handsome Chapel that is quite central to campus. Bowdoin even goes so far as to suggest that Nature's Laws are God's thoughts. Naturally. Not just nature's laws, however, but even nature itself all began as God's thoughts. Hasn't anyone read Question 15 article 1?