Church Preservation Dilemma

We are, sadly, becoming more accustomed to hearing about community opposition to a church’s plans to grow ministry and facilities.  Surprisingly, the same can be true when the ministry needs to shrink or retrench.  A church may be compelled to hang on to a structure that has become too expensive to maintain, by neighbors who care less about the ministry than the building itself.

A story today at Atlantic Cities by Kim A. O’Connell outlines the challenge.

In cities nationwide, churches are struggling to maintain the physical plant. Congregations are dwindling, budgets are tight and buildings are becoming aging white elephants. Many denominations, perhaps most notably the Catholic Church, are closing and selling off their buildings to stay afloat.

But these old churches are beloved landmarks, whether people worship there or not. Churches are key to a city’s architectural character and its social and religious history, preservationists say. [Official historic designations gained by these advocates]… can limit what happens to church buildings by preventing significant alterations or demolition.

Such limitations, church leaders say, can pose economic hardships that interfere with their constitutional right to the free exercise of religion.

Case history is confused.  The article cites victories by both sides in New York, Maryland and Washington.  But “cities are often left to decide these issues one controversial case at a time.”

The irony is less in the fact that the community cares about the building more than the church (or than the church does).  But in truth, church’s should care more about the work than the tools.

The challenge for preservationists, according to O’Connell, will be to come up with ways to “protect a church’s historic character while providing cost-effective long-term [financial] solutions.”

The challenge for congregations will be to demonstrate that they care more about the communities they serve than the programs through which they serve them.

Future Church: Five Buildings for 2022

In ten years, church buildings will need to be flexible, portable, or opportunistic to respond effectively to the culture.  Maybe all three, according to designers at Beck Architecture.  Beck, a big commercial design, construction and development firm headquartered in Dallas, interviewed ministry leaders (didn’t say how many) to learn what the culture might offer and how ministries could best equip themselves in 2022.

Their conclusions are posted at futurechurchbeck.wordpress.com.

It’s not long view thinking.  In design and construction terms, 2022 is now, and one suspects that the calendar for implementing some of the more exotic concepts may slip a bit.  But they’ve assembled some fine images of some inspiring ideas. You’ll also find a discussion of the technology that churches might employ.

Here are five “types” the folks at Beck came up with:

• Flexible Church: Low cost, adaptable, new construction that can be easily changed.  Beck’s designers suggested a steel structure with standard bays that can be skinned and fitted out as needed.
• Found Church: Structures that are easily implemented in found outdoor space, broken down on a weekly basis, and stored in trucks when not in use.
• Global Church:  An “affordable, secure, sustainable, and repeatable” building infrastructure that is drop-shipped by sponsor churches to Third World sites.  Such a framework would be completed with indigenous materials.
• Rebirthed Church:  A once-abandoned church that is refitted for increased sustainability and a “missional, rather than a simple attendance approach,” to ministry.
• Urban Church:  A commercial structure re-purposed to meet downtown needs, with space that serves the church on the weekends and community needs during the week

Images at top by Beck Architecture from futurechurchbeck.wordpress.com

Language and Perception

Language not only reflects the way we think; it may shape it.

“Children familiar with the rainbow of colors in the Crayola 64-pack, actually can tell ‘rust’ from ‘brick’ and ‘moss’ from ‘sage,’ while children who grow up speaking languages with fewer color names lump such hues together.”  (Hues and Views, APA). I came across the assertion, based on research that’s several years old, in blogs about an episode on BBC’s Horizon called “Do You See What I See?”.

Across cultures, children acquire color terms the same way: they gradually move from an uncategorized organization of color to structured categories that varied across languages and cultures.

What Himba (members of a nomadic tribe in Nigeria) speakers  categorize as “serandu” would be categorized in English as red, orange or pink.  Himba children use one word, “zoozu,” to embrace a variety of dark colors that English speakers would call dark blue, dark green, dark brown, dark purple, dark red or black.

Once the language is acquired, it apparently affects the speaker’s perception of colors.  In a test, Himba were able to very quickly point out the standout color below:

(Its the one just down and left from the top pair.)  In another exercise, the Himba had a much harder time pointing out a square that English speakers would categorize as a shade of blue.

So to what extent does this kind of connection fuel other differences in perception?  Is our ability to consider different kinds of art and music colored by our exposure, or lack of it, to the range of possibilities?  To what extent does it affect our appreciation of different worship environments and experiences?

As we’ve participated in discussions about design, we’ve sometimes been frustrated by the inability of some to perceive subtle distinctions between different aesthetic categories. It’s not unusual to see every every option labeled only as either “traditional” or “contemporary.”  Folks are unaccustomed to language that designers take for granted.  To get past it, we’ve experimented with a kind of eye test:  ”Which is more traditional/contemporary/etc. – the image on the left or the one on the right?”  I imagine that more field trips and conversation could help committees make better and more nuanced decisions.

Several years ago, I brought my high-school-age daughter to work, hoping she’d take up the mantle.  She spent a couple of afternoons working in the interiors department, filing samples.  After two days I asked her what she thought. “They spent 45 minutes debating which gray was grayer.  I could never do that!”

I suppose it’s my fault.  We should talk.

Bunk Pew

From the Sacred Sandwich:

Learning

Here’s a photo of my first stained glass project.  It was built into a an old  (23-1/4″ x 32″) window sash that a co-worker gave me 15-20 years ago and which, until now, has just been hanging on a wall in the garage.  The panelized structure allowed me to bite it off in little pieces (a lot like this blog).

Working with lead and glass is remarkably forgiving, but I quickly learned that what distinguishes ordinary stained glass work from the good stuff isn’t the technique as much as choices about color and glass; it’s more about paint than brush.  Pursuing this will require me to use different creative tools and thinking than the ones with with which I’m now most comfortable.  Thank you, Lou Ellen Beckham-Davis of LEB Glass Studio in Greenville, SC, for the guidance.