Thursday, March 12, 2009

Sunday, March 08, 2009

salvation

The Diocese of Cleveland is forced to make the uncomfortable decision of closing and merging some selected places of worship to deal with shifting demographics. The announcement of which some 50 Cleveland Catholic churches are to be closed will is scheduled to be made around March 14th. Historically Cleveland, an immigrant city, was populated with a great number of ethnic enclaves (or ghettos if one were to use the term properly) whose inhabitants would immediately identify themselves with their religious affiliation before ethnicity when asked to describe themselves. A great number of the inner ring suburbs are certainly riddled with places of worship, a great number of them quite exquisite and breathtaking in their construction, simplicity and obvious care.

Personally early Sunday strolls to fetch the paper (whose ever shrinking comment can be criticism for another day) allows a rather selfish vice of mine; to walk past the few places of worship along the way and catch the sounds of praise, song and homily, beautiful and heart warming (even when muffled through the heavy doors). Immediately my mind's eye remembers the sun streaming through the great stained glass windows of my youth, the droning of the priest (I was an impatient lad) and the sense of anticipation for the traditional family breakfast at my grandparent's. The Church followed the traditional Catholic style with proper nave and side aisles, a wide yet shallow apse and rather small transepts which hinted at the proper form. Tall and spacious inside I was lucky enough to have my first job there, helping my father, at the age of 13. There was a community pride that was evident those days in how the congregation knew each others family and history. Handshakes and pleasantries were exchanged and actually meant, even during the holidays when the congregation would grow to standing room only it was not uncommon to leave the church an hour or more after the sermon had ended. I was lucky enough to grow up around a such a place that actually felt as if it were God's home, if not for the architecture but for what it meant to the parishioners. I imagine that each holy place is like that to those that take the time to get to know it.

Now that some churches are being closed, offering that the community has no suggestions or proper reuses, what are to become of these structures? There are so very few buildings that offer comparable inspirational spaces. It would be a shame to simply raze the buildings when the craftsmanship and attention to construction/detail are so typically well done. However it may be a far better fate then some of the heavy handed renovations which may offer a more insulting and tragic end for beautiful and holy structures by carving the grand spaces or tacking on semi contextual additions.

In fact the Cleveland City Council is currently looking to extend landmark protection to include churches under an umbrella of historic preservation which includes maintaining the current windows and built in iconography (identified as "fixtures" under commercial property covenants) as part of the property and therefore under protection. Whether the properties belong in their entirety to the diocese or can be sold in an altered state to private owners isn't the entire point, Granted historic rose windows and hand carved pews could add proper accents of character to the proper new tenant however the bones of these structures should be the centerpoint of the conversation.

I find the opportunities rather intriguing. If the churches are closed, found of value/given some sort of landmark protection status, desanctified for public use there should be quite a few interested parties that could come up with some reasonable and respectful use (such as the Josaphat Arts Hall or Nottingham Spirk). However the opportunity would have to present itself and the possible tenant would be wise to respect not only the property but also the community in which the ex-church may reside.

The chance to create a worship space should be held in high esteem. An architect or designer tasked with the challenged will typically be given the seemingly opposing opportunities of working with a group or council, a modest budget and the gesture of creating a space that allows for the proper sense of decorum and awe with which in to worship. The task may truly seem a high endeavor and arguably may very well be connected to any great historical movement of architecture as well as some seemingly maddening obsessions. But what else would one expect? Here man is asked to simply recreate a simple building to an entity infinitely more powerful and beautiful than one could imagine. How is one to simply capture the joy and beauty with which to properly instill devotion upon visiting worshipers? The answer would be a varied as there are religious interpretations and to each structure, enclave, collective, there is an attempt to create an identifiable space. What then would be the proper response when the useful life of the church as designed as a place or worship, is at an end?

These buildings were not only once full of life and love but conceived and constructed along a similar premise. Designed to do more then simply shelter a great many are asked to lift man's spirit and grant upon them the mantle of grace, humility and respect. These structures are more than just buildings, they are our interpretations of hope and dream made physical and real. They were our family and friends, our salvation and trust, so much more than mere wood and stone and metal. They were the center or our communities.

They deserve our respect, our labor, our joy and our salvation.

more reading:
Desanctified churches get new life
Cleveland Catholic Diocese's church closing process near completion - Plain Dealer
BlogOnTheCity may have a more succinct summation and points to a better Plain Dealer article