Blog 6: Church Analyzation

Holy Family Church is where my family and I always went to as they raised me in their faith. I believe that the old church used to be in the basement of the grade school building, but the new church building that I know well was completed a month before I was born. The great expansion of the physical area meant that new adornments were added on as I grew up, as there weren’t a ton to transfer from the old space. While the main architecture remained, stained glass windows were donated, a room was dedicated to a long-term priest, and many decorations have come and gone over time. I’ve forever experienced changes within Holy Family as being a social issue, one that prompts gossip and/or praise from parish members. After this week’s topic, however, I’ve come to realize that while the spatial dynamics of the church have withstood my entire life, there have come to be (periodic) shifts in the centering focus. This additionally made me contemplate how churches can physically evolve, regardless of their base architecture.

Holy Family is clearly a modern communal church when considering its spatial dynamics. I think the best way to describe it is as what Debuyst states in Theology in Stone, “as a kind of great living room, a place where the faithful come together to meet the Lord, and one another in the Lord”. It’s a semicircle of pews with the altar in the front. The benches are arranged in a way that allows for the visibility and intimacy of the entire congregation, as well as the priest, during the mass. Our choir sits to the side of the altar, roughly joining in the semi-circle shape. One rule it doesn’t follow is that the altar isn’t moveable and the interior isn’t very flexible. The only portion that could fit into this definition is the “cry room”, which functions as a social room after the service, but has a huge window into the church and speakers, so that families with newborns can enjoy the mass without worrying about their baby interrupting the entire congregation. In this way, the church expands to better include its participants.

The aesthetic impact of Holy Family is certainly one of “hominess”. Carpet is used only where the congregation stands, whereas the altar flooring is wood lining and marble tile. Kneelers are padded and the pews slightly recline, for a relaxed version of the stiff wooden structure of the kneelers and pews I tend to see in sacramental churches. Warm light from lantern-like chandeliers keeps the church softly lit during evening masses, definitely reminiscent of a home or safe space. The attention isn’t drawn to the comfortable interior design, but instead makes you feel at ease with the people around you.

Symbolic resonance is found in original aspects of the church, as well as pieces that have been added on. For example, the original statue and the recently donated stained glass of the Holy Family are both pieces that remind one of the past and the liturgy. I think the particular is represented by the dedication of the cry room to Monsignor Galic, our old parish priest who was assigned to Holy Family for 24 years. He gave so much to the church and helped grow the congregation to what it is today, so I believe it is important symbolically to Holy Family. (He is still alive, just retired to be clear). Universality is pointed to in the devotional candles that you can light for a loved one (similar to the grotto), unifying the living and dead. Plaques of the stations of the cross point towards the past, but are used presently during Lent. There isn’t a ton of art in general, so it’s hard to find a representation of the future. What directs one’s view past the literalness seen in the artistic representations of the past, though, are the skylights in the center of the church that are the only way to clearly see out of the church. It seems a bit symbolic that the only way to look out is to look up to the sun or the stars (and theoretically towards Heaven).

I have saved centering focus for last because this is where it gets tricky for me. For the majority of the year, Holy Family has no central focus. It is held by whichever part of mass is taking place, be it the pulpit, altar, choir, or movement of the congregation. The wall behind the altar is typically bare, except for the huge crucifix. This all creates no issue, going well with everything that has been previously discussed. However, we got a new priest when I was in high school, and he is quite obsessed with his engineering background and ability to hang very ornate things throughout the church. In general, decorating makes sense in a communal church. I feel like it is typically to bring attention to the holiday or the altar and is donated or orchestrated by community members. I wouldn’t mention this if it fell into that category, as I take no problem with that idea. What I’m talking about is a wreath hung 12 feet in the air that looks like it was made from a few Christmas trees (hung both for Advent and Easter) and banners that stretch from almost floor to ceiling behind the altar with a singular latin word embroidered vertically (I think there is one for the word sacrifice and one for celebrating, but I can’t quite remember) The wreath is so large and hung at a height that blocks almost the entire crucifix when you’re walking into the church. When you can see the cross, the banners on either side are much bigger and distract from it as much as a piece of cloth can from the suffering Jesus. It would slightly annoy me to see it, I think mainly because our priest would spend a lot of the homily talking about how cool he was for getting them up there. It seemed like the decoration was a means of self-glorification rather than a celebration or reminder of the religious event. Considering it now, I think it nearly ruins the entire modern communal aspect because the wreath draws the central attention. It blocks the view of something at all times, either the people in the pews on the opposite side of the church or the crucifix. When the priest walks off the altar to stand under it during the homily, it’s hard to look at him instead of what’s above him.

This in turn crumbles the other aspects of the church. I think this decoration causes a decrease in aesthetic design because it disrupts the familiar, comfortable feel. It draws away from the more important symbolic aspects, but I will admit adds an extreme present feeling during advent when there are gigantic candles on top. What I struggle with is if losing the communal aspect prompts it to gain a different spatial dynamic. I believe the answer is sadly, no. In order to become sacramental, the decoration would have to prompt processional movement, or at least direct more towards the altar. The banners on the altar certainly achieve the latter, but I think that the wreath in the front/middle negates this if you are not looking at it in one precise angle that places the altar behind it. Additionally, it subtracts from the crucifix (which seems to defeat part of the purpose of looking towards the altar). I certainly don’t think that it transitions into an evangelical church because it doesn’t put any emphasis on words or the pulpit. To me, it doesn’t gain spatiality, it really only loses what it had without the wreath. Overall, I think the idea behind the decoration was positive (and plenty of people think it’s exciting to look at), but the execution seems to have a negative impact on the functioning of the spatiality of the church. There is nothing bad about looking at an advent wreath (or Easter wreath?), but the mass should be centered around the people and what is happening on the altar. When a decoration distracts from this it may be doing more harm than good, but it is interesting to consider how one addition has clearly caused such a major impact.