Category Archives: Sense of place

Master’s thesis, anyone?

The archives of this church contain lots of fascinating historical documents. According to Keith Coryell, director of the Geneva History Center, the original record book of the church, dating back to 1842 and earlier, could easily generate a master’s thesis in history. I’ve recently been looking at another remarkable document in the archives here, titled “Records of the Unitarian Sunday School of Geneva Ills. copied from original entries in another book beginning with the date of Nov. 9, 1867, ending with June 12, 1892.” The records continue in other hands to the closing of the Sunday school in 1901 due to lack of enrollment, with one additional entry recording a christening in 1907. This record book, combined with other material in the archives, could be the foundation of yet another master’s thesis, this time in religious education.

Here’s one entry from the Sunday school record book, written in a beautiful round hand with a very fine pen nib:

January 1st 1896

An entertainment was given by the Unitarian Sunday School, at the Unitarian Church on New Year’s Eve and was attended by a packed housed [sic] and proved to be a very entertaining affair. The efforts of the children, big and little, in representing the holidays of the year under the leadership of Father Time, were really good — all given in costume — and made a decided hit, besides being in an entirely new line. They were assisted by Mae Blackman in solos, Mrs. Will Harvey in readings, Stella Mann in Recitations, and the little Cory Sisters in duetts [sic] and solos. Mrs. Woolley [Rev. Celia Parker Woolley, minister here at that time] arranged and managed the affair and the lady teachers who assisted her, earned much credit.

A fee of ten cents was asked from those outside of the pupils of the school and the net proceeds were $12.00.

Sky drama

Carol and I were walking down Hamilton Street towards the river this afternoon, and just as we crossed First Street a small drama was enacted in the sky above us.

The first thing I noticed was three or four pigeons wheeling above the State Street bridge, and then flying low and fast upriver. Then a larger bird wheeled above us — it looked like a small hawk.

Twenty or so pigeons came from under the bridge, flying very close to one another, dropping quickly back down to cover by the bridge. The larger bird flapped twice, wheeled into the wind and soared for a second. As it turned above us, I could see it was a small hawk, an accipter, probably a Cooper’s Hawk.

The hawk wheeled twice more, and drifted downwind, towards the south. Suddenly another bird appeared close behind it — a Crow — then two more. The three Crows began mobbing the the hawk, driving it west away from the river. Half a dozen smaller birds broke cover and headed north, away from the hawk. Crows are just about the same size as a Cooper’s Hawk, so it hardly seemed a fair fight — three Crows mobbing the one Hawk.

The last I saw, the Cooper’s Hawk had dropped down to treetop level, still followed by the Crows. My guess is that it wanted to take advantage of its ability to dart and fly swiftly through trees, so it could get away from the Crows. I wondered if it is the mate of the Cooper’s Hawk that is sitting on a nest a few blocks from our house.

The clouds yesterday and the rain today brought back seasonable temperatures, down in the forties instead of in the eighties last week. The house at the corner of 6th and Hamilton here in Geneva is surrounded by red tulips ready to open — but with the cold weather, they have remained shut for the past couple of days.

Yesterday, I took the train downtown to the Loop. Next to the Boeing building, which is on the south branch of the Chicago River at Randolph St., you can walk down some steps to a little pocket park just above river level. There I found green grass, and a few trees with their leaves just opening — and, of all surprising things, I also found a Hermit Thrush, who looked a little bewildered by the urban environment. It flitted back and forth between the small trees, and appeared disturbed by my close presence. By today, I’m sure this bird has flown further north towards its breeding grounds.

Sense of place

As I continue to explore ecological theology, I get more and more interested in the notion of place. A sense of place is essential to understanding how we humsn fit into the rest of the ecosystem.

So this blog, called Where Project, caught my eye: www.whereproject.org Later note: I removed the link because this Web site is now defunct.

It’s written and photographed by a PhD candidate in English at Boston College, who’s writing a dissertation on “place blogging” — blogs that are all about one person’s relationship to one place.

Update August 2006: This blog is no longer current, although the author keeps promising to update it.

The symbol story

The following was written by Rev. Don King, and comes from the September 12, 1976, issue of the Pioneer, the newsletter of UU Society of Geneva:

The banner which hangs at the front of our church was made during the spring and summer by a group of women in the Alliance. The symbol which it displays was the result of an evolution which began during World War II and is still going on.

It began with the flaming chalice in the ellipse designed by Hans Deutsch, a refugee helped by the Unitarian Service Committee, and grew out of the need for some identifying mark in a world of many languages, stamps, and seals.

The basic part of the symbol is a chalice. The burning flame in the chalice is symbolic of helpfulness and sacrifice. The chalice with the flame remotely suggests a cross, which shows the background of our heritage [editor’s note: Don King was a humanist].

Fred Weidman, in Dearborn, Michigan, had the symbol made into jewelry and other decorative items. It was widely used by the Unitarian Service Committee, the American Unitarian Association, and many local churches.

About the same time, 1946, a group of Universalist ministers, including Richard Knost and Albert Ziegler, devised a symbol to represent their interpretation of Universalism. They put a Latin cross in a circle, but put it off center.

The circle, considered a perfect figure and being without beginning or end, suggested God and eternity. The cross indicated our Christian origins. As a whole, they symbol exhibits a tension and suggests an urge to strive for improvement in ourselves and our world. Revelation is not complete or final, but partial and growing. There is still much truth to be known.

In addition to the obvious uses — jewelry, lapel pins, letterheads, church bulletins — the off-center cross appeared in many churches in motifs of decoration and as an altar symbol.

With merger in 1961, and in some united churches still earlier, came efforts to devise a symbol which would combine the two already in use.

The Continental Association [i.e., the UUA] used two interlocking circles, symbolizing the union of the two denominations. These circles appeared on mailings from the office in Boston to identify them as Unitarian Universalist.

Several persons hit upon the idea of putting the flaming chalice in the circle. Such a device became the official symbol of the Midwestern Unitarian Universalist Conference and identified its letterheads and envelopes. It appeared on the banner of the Midcontinental Messenger from October, 1960, until February, 1964. A large mosaic was hung on the wall of the office at 5711 Woodlawn in Chicago.

While making a drawing of this symbol to be used on envelopes, Betty King [Don’s wife] hit upon the idea of putting the flaming chalice in the interlocking circles. Her sketch went to the printers and cuts and mats were made. Both symbols appeared in the August, 1962, issue of the Midcontinental Messenger. It was widely copied and still frequently appears on a church bulletin or on a special program [editor’s note: Betty King’s drawing is quite similar to the current UUA logo].

Fred Weidman had four copies of the chalice in the single circle made.

No widespread attempt has been made to design jewelry, but Betty King had about a dozen necklaces made and sold or gave them to friends. The Fellowship in Springfield, Illinois, had plaques made with the interlocking circles and chalice mounted on a wall shield.

The Unitarian Universalist Service Committee used it for several years, but now has abandoned it for a sort of ‘mod’ chalice design.

[The above is Copyright (c) 1976 by the Unitarian Universalist Society of Geneva.]

I think Don King’s short essay is an interesting addition to the flaming chalice lore that circulates around our denomination. I particularly like the fact that he says this is a symbol which has evolved over the years, and which keeps on evolving.

Note that Don King makes no mention of the now-familiar three dimensional chalice which is lit at the beginning of many of today’s Unitarian Universalist worship services. Persumably, that was not happening back in 1976 here in Geneva.

Don’t judge a book by its cover…

They say we shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. But my partner (who is unchurched) says she thinks you can judge a church by the food they serve.

Judged by that criterion, the Unitarian Universalist Society of Geneva is one of the great UU churches. This year’s Canvass Tea ended about an hour ago. Forty or more people gathered in the Common Room to enjoy absolutely fabulous food prepared by Elba K., William E., and their cadre of fantastic cooks.

Among my favorites were the tiny open-faced cucumber sandwiches, although the turkey salad sandwiches were equally delicate and tasty. I should also mention the chalice cookies, with a touch of frosting for the flame. The cream puffs were rumored to be amazing. The birthday cake (it happened to be the birthday of Elanor L. and Ellen M.) was incredible. A wide array of cheeses. There were so many choices, I didn’t even get to try everything.

(I also have to mention William’s rhubarb pie. He brought it for social hour last night, but there were a few slices left over this morning. This was a poem of a rhubarb pie. Lou P. and I were exchanging ecstatic comments as we ate two of the last slices.)

Needless to say, we had good conversation along with the good food at the Canvass Tea. I sat at a table with some young people, a few middle-aged folks like me, and a couple of elders, and we talked about everything under the sun. Churches are one of the few places where people of all ages can sit together, share a meal, and just talk — it’s one of the main reasons I go to church.

Good food. Good conversation. What more could you ask for?

Spring watch

Sure signs of spring showed up in the past few days —

Early daffodils in full bloom today two blocks from the church, on the south side of the Dupage Library System building — which is right across the street from 18 Campbell St., the house of Augustus Conant, first minister of this church.

Looks like only one of the owlets remains in the nest next to the courthouse — s/he wasn’t there yesterday, nor again today. It is likely the other one has gotten good enough at flying to head off on his/her own.

Tree Swallows are back. I saw several dozen over the river an hour ago, just downstream from the Union Pacific West Line bridge. It looked like they were finding lots of insects — insect hatches are another sign of spring.

And it will really feel like spring tomorrow, because Daylight Savings Times begins. If you’re coming to church tomorrow morning, don’t forget to set your clocks ahead!

Spring watch

Back in early March, I mentioned the Great Horned Owl I had been hearing all winter. I had only ever heard a male, and wondered what his breeding status was. At coffee hour after the Saturday evening service, someone mentioned seeing the owlets. Owlets? Yes, the male owl I had been hearing did find a mate (apparently I just never heard her calling), they nested in a tamarisk at the northeast corner of the old court house, and the owlets had recently fledged. It seems likely that the adults are the same pair that used to nest in the tree in front of the church, until that tree came down late last spring.

I went over last night and found the tree. It’s easy to find because of the droppings, feathers, and bones under the tree. There was even a fairly complete skin of a small rabbit (gone as of this morning). I heard the male calling, but it was too dark to see anything else.

This morning I got over there early. It’s pretty foggy right now, but I did see the two owlets huddled together on a branch on the north side of the tamarisk, about a third of the way up, sound asleep. One of the adults was perched far up in the tree, but I did not see the other. If you’re over by the church in the next couple of days, it’s worth taking a look.

It may feel cold, and there isn’t much green yet, but fledged owlets means spring is definitely here.

Later note:

Craig and I went over between the two worship services. The sun was out by then, and we could see them quite clearly. The owlets don’t yet have their ear tufts, but their primary flight feathers appear to be grown in. We talked with an experienced birder who estimated the owlets have another week or two before they fly off. (He also let us look through his scope, so we got a real close-up of them.) Perhaps fifteen or twenty people from church made it over to see the owlets after the second worship service today. Don’t miss them if you’re in the area!

Church as place

An interesting discussion developed last night in my monthly discussion forum on interim ministry matters. We have this church building dating back to 1843 — to what extent does it limit us, and to what extent is it a strength for the congregation? We talked briefly about the “big box” churches which you can find interspersed with the strip malls on Randall Road. Should we be out there, in a new, spacious building that could accomodate growth?

That discussion has gotten me thinking about what it means to have a sense of place. The “big box” churches seem to me to have no sense of place. They could be anywhere in North America. I feel there may be a theological message there — no need to worry about a sense of place here on earth, because the ultimate goal is to get to another place.

But do our Unitarian Unviersalist church buildings need a sense of place? Mike Durrall, in the final chapter of his recent book The Almost Church, seems to argue that we should aim for placeless big box churches. I love nearly everything in Mike’s book, but here I have to disagree with him.

I am coming to believe a sense of place can be a real asset to a congregation, with obvious caveats. Here in Geneva, our historic building creates obvious and problematic limitations — it’s so small we have to have three worship services, renovations are limited by the historic character of the building, the much-loved pews are not comfortable for tall people like me, etc. Yet our building also creates a deep sense of place, which has both theological and practical value.

As for the practical value, the historic building has proved attractive to newcomers. One of the “Mystery Visitors” who came and evaluated our church in the fall summed it up, saying: “As an artist and a lover of architecture, I found the building itself to be astonishly beautiful both inside and out. I was truly moved by the loving care the building has obviously received. I was impressed with it as a visual and physical symbol of our Unitarian Universalist heritage.” Our building is the oldest building west of the Alleghenies that has been used continuously as a Unitarian or Universalist church — it is a visible reminder of how liberal religion moved westwards. Dave Karcher calls it “a Unitarian Universalist shrine,” and he’s right.

But I believe there’s theological value in our old building, too. The more I explore ecological theology, the more value I find in having a sense of place. A sense of place means setting down roots, it means awareness of my human interdependence with the surrounding natural world, and awareness of how I fit into the surrounding human culture. A sense of place also means connections with ancestors, and connections with the generations to come. Care for a historic building like ours forces us to think about the hands that laid the stones for the walls seven or so generations ago, and to plan ahead seven generations or more so that this building (and the surrounding ecosystem!) will still be here.

While not every church building will have this deep rootedness in the surrounding place, I’ve come to believe more and more that our congregations should be thinking about the theological role of place.

(Those of you who read this blog from afar can find a picture of the Geneva church at 102 South Second St., on a Web site of pictures of historic Geneva.)