First
Unitarian Universalist Society of Albany
Rev.
Samuel A. Trumbore, September 14, 2003
The dream of expanding our
building was brought to the test last week.
Last spring we voted to engage Paul J Mack and Associates to do a
Capital Campaign planning study to see if we have enough enthusiasm and
resources to proceed with expanding our facility. The architectural plans presented to the congregation included
building a new multi-function space that can serve as sanctuary or social hall
at the other end of our building, adding more RE classrooms, installing an
elevator, relocating and enlarging our kitchen, relocating and enlarging our
administrative space, and relocating Stott lounge and the Joy Library.
Paul Mack
sent Anna Angold to survey as many as sixty members of our congregation as part
of the planning study. The day after
Labor Day she arrived, with letters of invitation ready for Al's and my
signature and a streamlined version of our expansion plans to mail. For the next seven days she saw 53
individuals and couples of the sixty invitations sent out. On the last day she was here, I took her out
to lunch. As she and I walked to
Ichiban’s, I slyly asked probing questions to see if she would give me any
advance information or clues about what we might expect her report to
contain. She smiled coyly at me and
revealed absolutely nothing. “You’ll
get the full report in the beginning of October,” she replied sweetly.
I regretted
not being able to give this sermon before Anna started her work because I
believe there is something of great significance happening right now in the
expansion project. The Albany office of
Design Partnership of Cambridge, the architectural firm that presented us with
our current plans included in Anna's case, has closed. We must now find a new architectural firm
and see if we can pick up where the others left off. All we have now is a floor plan and no image or model of what
this building might look like save a few sketches. The rooflines, the window locations and the door placements
aren’t set in stone yet. And
providentially, some new ideas have surfaced over the summer.
Architects
Terry Way, a seasoned member of our congregation, and Scott Knox, a newcomer to
our congregation, have expressed concern that our design work so far doesn’t
have a guiding vision to unify it.
When I
first heard these concerns I didn’t understand what they were saying. By training I’m an engineer. In school I learned how to take a
requirements document and translate them into a functional design. To design a widget that can do this, this
and that for this cost, an engineer can come back with a schematic that
accomplishes that goal. Engineers
don’t usually design the cover of the widget box. Our expansion project has had me, and I suspect many of us,
thinking like an engineers. How do we
arrange the blocks so we can fit in everything we want? Scott challenged us to go to the next level,
to be an artist.
Architectural
design is a blending of art and engineering.
A well-designed building must be both functional, standing up to wind,
weather and wear, and must also be beautiful.
And when entering the realm of designing a home for the celebration of
life, it must also be inspirational.
One good path toward moving up to and achieving this level of
inspiration is articulating a unifying architectural vision.
The
evocative power of a structure comes from the ability for floors, walls,
windows and ceilings to talk. For preliterate
children and illiterate adults in traditional churches, the statues, stained
glass windows, and feeling of the space teaches them about their religion. The material used in the flooring, the
texture and placement of a wall, the size and orientation of the windows, the
height and curve of the ceiling, the ornamentation, all these design choices
individually and taken together communicate the values and beliefs of the
designers. Walk into a Gothic Cathedral
and Christian messages are everywhere.
Walk into a Mosque and the absence of images speaks an intense
commitment to resist imagining God in human form. Synagogues all use their architecture to sanctify the east facing
Ark, the home of the Torah.
A helpful
way to unify the message a building speaks is by beginning with a metaphorical
image that both communicates the heritage and values of an organization and can
be translated into bricks and mortar.
Let me give you a few illustrations.
One of the
most famous modern examples of a unified vision is Temple Beth Sholom in Elkins
Park, Pennsylvania, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. One of the early design ideas that Rabbi Mortimer Joseph Cohen
shared with him in the folklore of the building was to say, "build me a
mountain of light" along with build me "the quintessential American
synagogue in a cradle of American liberty." The end result was a massive synagogue of glass and steel that
soars 110 feet in the air without any columns to support it.
As you may
know, Wright, a Unitarian, also designed two Unitarian Universalist
sanctuaries, one in Oak Park, Illinois, and one for his own congregation in
Madison, Wisconsin. In each one, he
understood key elements in the identity of the congregation and shaped the design
around them.
Closer to
home, the First Unitarian Church of Rochester, New York's sanctuary was
designed by the famous architect, Louis Kahn.
What Kahn recognized about that congregation was the centrality of
questions to their pursuit of religious truth.
So he put the sanctuary in the middle of the building and arranged the
classrooms around the outside so the shape of the facility viewed from above
looks like a question mark.
Question
mark? Mountain of Light? What is the
image that will convey who we are? What
do we want our walls say to the newcomer entering our sanctuary for the first
time?
We haven't
been thinking this way about our expansion project up until now because our
vision of what we are doing has grown.
When the expansion project began again after my Start-Up Weekend in the
fall of 1999, I think we were more focused on remodeling. We've been rearranging the blocks to figure
out how in the world to squeeze everything we want into this restricted
facility. We've been intensely focused
on the engineering--not the art.
That began
to change when we decided we wanted to see if we could build a 300-seat
sanctuary/social hall at the other end of our building. When the architects came back with a Gothic
interpretation of what the new sanctuary might look like, the Architectural
Committee immediately objected. I
realized our architects from Design Partnership really didn't understand who we
were. They needed to better understand
our identity and mission translated into a metaphorical language that had a
physical interpretation to begin to grasp the artistic dimension of what would
inspire us. Perhaps it's good we are
looking for new architects.
Scott Knox
understood this need from his professional architectural background and
suggested the architectural committee call a special meeting this summer to see
if we could distill a guiding phrase or at most a sentence that could guide our
new architects. We spent three hours
wrestling with ideas but couldn't get beyond abstract concepts. The closest we got was a list of five ideas:
Not finding
that one evocative phrase at that meeting was very disturbing to me because I
had already committed to doing this sermon.
I had planned to lift up that guiding phrase and present it to you today
with flourish and fanfare.
For the
last month since that meeting, I've been pondering exactly what metaphorical
image might communicate the wholeness of who we are, what we value and want to
become. Today I'd like to offer you
what I think is the best answer so far.
I don't think this is the only answer or even the final answer, but
rather my best answer for you today.
Perhaps in you today lies the final answer that will emerge from hearing
my words. Listen to me now and also
listen carefully to your own heart.
Three words
have captured my imagination that I believe can guide both our architects and
express a vision of our identity as a congregation. Those words are "light", "beacon," and
"mingling." Let me explain
each one.
The word that is easiest
to grasp is light. Many Unitarian
Universalist sanctuaries built in the last 100 years have lots of big, clear
windows. Unity Temple in Oak Park has a
translucent roof over the sanctuary to let in natural light. The Fellowship I grew up in had floor to
ceiling windows on both sides of the building.
The effect was to create the feeling of worshipping in nature as the
building was located in a wooded area.
Think of the sanctuary in Schenectady that also has lots of floor to
ceiling glass. Look around us at these
huge windows right here. We do not want to be enclosed in a gloomy space
surrounded by stained glass windows. We
don't want to separate ourselves from the world, we want to remain connected to
it. For us, field and forest are just
as sacred as this room.
Our
understanding of sacred space is different from other protestant derived
religious traditions. We don't separate
the sacred from the profane in the same way other religions do. We want our architecture to bring us into
the here and now, awakening and heightening our awareness of the present
moment. We are uninterested in
architecture that beckons us to strive for a reward in some dreamy heaven
realm. We are uninterested in
architecture that torments us for being human and fallible. We want architecture that inspires us to see
the greater, more lofty possibilities inherent in being human. We want architecture that energizes us to
believe in our capability to bring those possibilities to life.
My
selection of the word beacon becomes clearer by exploring its definition. Most commonly, we think of a beacon as a
signaling or guiding device, such as a lighthouse. Beacons are also the names for radio transmitters that emit a
characteristic guidance signal for aircraft.
I gained a great appreciation for radio beacons during my first flight
in a four seat Cessna 172. My pilot and
I were flying over the Gulf of Mexico.
There was no way to know where we were by looking down. By tuning our radio to the frequency of the
nearest beacon, we could orient ourselves and guide our flight. I was extremely grateful that day for our
nationwide network of beacons to show us the way.
Radio
beacons make interesting metaphors because they are not coercive. Any beacon is
useful only if you are tuned to its frequency. The pilot chooses which beacon
will best guide the plane. There are
some messages we Unitarian Universalists broadcast here that many people in
this country don't want to use for guidance.
If you want a religion that will tell you the one and only way to
believe, this beacon will not guide you well.
If you want a religion that follows one and only one prophet or teacher
this beacon will confuse you. However,
if you want a beacon that broadcasts the message of the inherent worth and
dignity of every individual, you're tuned to the right channel. If you want a beacon that guides people to
justice, equity and compassion in human relations, you're flying this way.
An
architectural interpretation of beacon actually came up while examining the
early drawings for the new multi-function space. The
architects suggested building a translucent wall facing Washington Avenue that
would both let in light during the day and radiate light out to the street at
night. While pondering this idea,
someone suggested putting a chalice in that translucent wall facing Washington
Avenue. Anyone driving by at night
would see that chalice, a beacon radiating our message symbolically to the
community.
The last
image may be the hardest to grasp: the word mingling. I think it is a beautiful word to describe the process of liberal
religious community. The word has two
contradicting yet complimentary definitions.
To mingle is to bring together in combination, without the loss of
individual characteristics. No
homogenizing going on here! We respect
each individual's right of conscience.
We don't expect everyone to conform to the same beliefs.
And
mingling also means, to mix so that the components become united and
merge. We do this by using the
democratic process to define ourselves and find shared agreement. As we mingle together we retain our
individuality while at the same time finding common ground in our humanity, in
our spiritual nature. And every time we
find that common ground, energy is released.
When we mingle and find our unity, that energy, that light is radiated
out of us, powering this congregation's beacon of liberal religion for the
Capital Region.
What, up
till now, has been primarily a remodeling project to expand our building, is
starting to give birth to a larger vision, a vision I'm casting today as a
"beacon of mingling light."
Our Executive for the St. Lawrence District, Tom Chulak, was here on
Thursday. He encouraged our Board of
Trustees to imagine how our congregation might lead in the Capital Region
promoting Unitarian Universalist values.
He invited us to work with the St. Lawrence District on the growth of
our movement. Tom invited us to welcome
every person who responds to our way of doing religion and to provide a way for
them to gather, be it here in an expanded sanctuary or in a new congregation
just outside our reach. Tom encouraged
us to pass on the flame from our chalice, from our beacon on this hill.
As we wait
expectantly for a report from Anna Angold of our capital campaign study, let us
reflect on whether we've been hiding our light under a bushel basket or putting
it on a lamp stand, letting it shine out for all to see. I believe we are at a critical juncture in
the life of this congregation as this larger vision of who we can become
emerges. Today I feel great excitement
about a "beacon of mingling light" as a metaphoric vision of both who
we are and who we can become … that can be put in stone, concrete, wall board,
and windows.
The success
of our expansion program is strongly linked to getting to the heart of our
willingness to share what we have found here.
Let us have the courage to love largely and pass on our flame.
Copyright © 2002 by the Rev. Samuel A. Trumbore. All rights
reserved.