Design and Direction

Dear Gathering People:

If you have endured my long-form tour of our worship space, you’ve heard me ramble about the architectural work of Charles Edward Stade, who designed our Sanctuary. Fresh off his commission for the Chapel of the Resurrection at Valparaiso University in 1961, Stade’s Park Ridge firm was engaged by FPCLG to bring modern interpretation to classical Christian forms. To my taste, we caught Stade at just the right moment in the development of his style. Stade’s later designs were stamped by an obsession for A-frame structure. Literally hundreds of churches built in the 1960s and ‘70s reflect his direct and indirect influence. Long sloping roofs covering little checkerboards of windows became his hallmark. You can see local examples, including Winnetka Presbyterian Church, Trinity Lutheran Church of Lombard and Bethel United Church of Christ in Elmhurst. Our windows in both the cloisters and clerestory reflect his early fascination with tiny boxes of color, but unlike later works, ours are muted blues, grays and browns; not long after our church was completed, Stade added startling panes of red and burgundy, almost cartoonishly intermixed with the softer hues.

I was reminded of Stade’s work this past week with the passing of University of Chicago Professor Emeritus The Rev. Dr. Martin E. Marty. In a later musing I will spend some time reflecting on Marty’s incredible journey as a pastor, scholar and public intellectual, as well as his impact on my work; but this morning I’m musing on his critique of Stade’s A-frame church. Marty observed, “From the outside it appears to be a tent of meeting for God’s people on the move, but on the inside it’s a cave for spelunking.”

Marty (on campus he was known by his last name only) expressed disappointment regarding the suburbanization of the American church. While heading out from the city to build new communities seemed to follow the great tradition of pilgrimage, the result created enclaves of self-referential isolation. A long-time resident of Riverside, Marty often reflected on the patchwork of communities through which he drove each day on his way to Hyde Park. In his scholarship, Marty persistently invited the reader to see the historic and sociological big picture in hopes for a less fractious world. Marty’s critique of Stade’s design reminded us how it conveyed adventure and mobility, but created a home for capsulated segregation.

“The building is not the church!” we often remind ourselves, but gathering space has power. Nearly one third of the Book of Exodus is nothing more than blueprints for constructing and furnishing the Tent of Meeting and Tabernacle. Additionally, there are more than a dozen chapters in Kings and Chronicles containing only design specifications for Solomon’s Temple. Prophecies in Isaiah, Ezekiel, Daniel and Revelations contain verse after verse of divine architectural description. We may think the room does not shape us, but it seems Biblical authors thought otherwise. In some way, what surrounds us does mold us.

I have no desire to redress aged elements in our worship space. As I mention on my long-form tour, we’ve held out on remodeling long enough that our mid-century modern space is no longer dated—it’s matured into being classic. We should, however, be intentional in how we experience our church house. While many of the design elements may lead one to feel like Noah locked in the ark saving just a few (one of the many architectural metaphors Stade intended), we need to worry about the long-term impact of such isolationism. If, on the other hand, we feel an urgent sense of deliverance and a perpetually growing journey towards inclusion, our Sanctuary’s composition may be helping. Where you sit influences how you’ll stand.

Seeking always to build a more perfect union, I remain,

With Love,
Jonathan Krogh
Your Pastor