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New York Architecture
Images-Gramercy Park Transfiguration (Episcopal)
- aka "THE LITTLE CHURCH AROUND THE CORNER"
Top Ten New York Churches |
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architect
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F.C.Withers et al. |
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One
East 29th St. |
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1849-1926 |
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early English Neo-Gothic style |
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brick, timber |
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Church |
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The Church of the Transfiguration, more often known as The Little Church
Around the Corner, was founded in 1848 by the Rev. Dr. George Hendric
Houghton in New York City. The first services were held in a home at 48
East 29th street and in 1849 the new church was built and consecrated.
Urban oasis
Located at 1 East 29th Street,in the Murray Hill District, the church is
set back from the street behind a garden creating a facsimile of the
English countryside in midtown Manhattan and has long been an oasis for
New Yorkers of all faiths who relax in the garden, pray in the chapel or
enjoy free weekday concerts in the main church. It has also been known
as the "wedding church" because of the popularity of the church for
weddings.
The “Little Church Around the Corner,” was founded in 1848 “to embrace
all races and classes.” Designed in the early English Neo-Gothic style
and with its quaint English Garden retains a picturesque quality of a
true English parish church, despite being in sight of the Empire State
Building. The church also features numerous and eclectically designed
side chapels and a 14th Century stained glass window.
Early years
Transfiguration has been a leader of the Anglo-Catholic movement within
the Episcopal Church from its founding. While this movement often is
associated with elaborate worship, it also has stressed service to the
poor and oppressed from its earliest days. Dr. Houghton built a
congregation that cut across class and racial ines, sponsored bread
lines to feed the hungry, worked vigorously for the abolition of slavery
and harbored runaway slaves. In 1863, during the Civil War Draft Riots
Houghton gave sanctuary to Negroes who were under attack. The rioters
blamed slaves and freedmen for the war and the draft.
Ties to the theater
Actors were among the social outcasts whom Dr. Houghton befriended. In
1870 the rector of a nearby church refused to conduct funeral services
for an actor named George Holland (the father of Joseph and Edmund
Milton Holland {1}), but suggested that a "little church around the
corner" probably would do "that sort of thing." Joseph Jefferson, a
fellow actor who was trying to arrange Holland's burial, exclaimed "God
bless the little church around the corner!" and the church began a long
standing association with the theater.
P.G. Wodehouse, when living in Greenwich Village as a young writer of
novels and lyrics for musicals, married his wife Ethel at the Little
Church in September 1914. Subsequently Wodehouse would set most of his
fictionalised weddings at the church; and the hit musical Sally he wrote
with Jerome Kern and Guy Bolton ended with the company singing, in
tribute to the Bohemian congregation: "Oh dear little Church 'Round the
Corner / Where so many lives have begun / Where folks without money /
see nothing that's funny / In two living cheaper than one".
Shakespearean Actor Sam Waterson, of the Law & Order TV Show fame was
married here (for a second time). In 1923 the Episcopal Actors' Guild
held its first meeting at Transfiguration. Such theatrical greats as
Basil Rathbone, Tallulah Bankhead, Peggy Wood, Joan Fontaine, Rex
Harrison and Charlton Heston have served as officers or council members
of the guild.
National Historic Landmark
In 1973, The Little Church was designated a National Landmark and listed
on the National Register of Historic Places in recognition of its
position as a shrine of the American church and theater.
Recent history
The parish is currently under the rectorate of the Rt. Rev. Andrew St.
John, formerly assistant bishop in the Anglican Diocese of Melbourne.
St. John was named vicar on March 1, 2005 and called as rector on May
13, 2007.
Music program
The church has long been associated with a program of fine music. The
Anglican tradition of a men and boys choir has been maintained with
special music for concerts and summer services provided by a choir of
mixed voices. In 1988 the Arnold Schwartz Memorial organ, a new tracker
pipe organ was built and installed at the church by C. B. Fisk, Inc.
Sunday
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A most confusing jumble of spaces and features, a long
low and internally rather dark building, with a Chinese-looking lychgate,
two
towers and basically an L-shaped plan. The oldest parts of the
church date from 1849, by an unknown architect. The west tower is the
principle entrance, and the chapels to the left as you enter
were originally the parish schoolrooms. This area reached its current
appearance in 1926 and is divided from the main church by two
screens (with organ above) as a narthex. To the east is the nave and
south
aisle with little four-bayed arcade of wood. The south transept
was added in 1852 and extended in the 1860s. The chancel was rebuilt
and
enlarged by F.C.Withers 1880-81 (who also designed the Guildhall
and Rectory of 1861 and the Lychgate in 1896). In the angle of south
aisle
and south transept was added the strangely octagonal St Joseph's
chapel with an apse facing to the SW and a second tower like upper
stage.
Yet despite this confusion and collision of parts, the church
holds together with a degree of charm and attraction, which I did not
feel in
any other church on this visit. It is theatrical, yet small and intimate
like a stage and audience would feel. It has chapels off in
the wings, and a number of amusing and unique features. Just look at the
brackets which support the roof on the north side of the nave and
the contrasting thinness of the pillars on the opposite side. Then there
is the curiously sited organ (below, left) and the forest of
pillars when viewed alongside the organ (below, right). The church
is dark, so much so that dormers were inserted; and in New York
tradition
these too are filled with stained glass. The window by the pulpit
is however worthy of inspection, as here is perhaps the oldest stained
glass of any church in the USA, aa C14 figure of St Faith (Ste Foi) from
a Belgian church destroyed in the Napoleonic wars.
The church was open when I called, and usually is daily 0900-1700 except
when services are taking place.
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Special
thanks to www.churchcrawler.co.uk
(British and international church architecture site) for generous
permission to use images and info.
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A Brief History of the Little Church
Fides Opera, "Faith
and Works," is the motto of our parish: they laid the foundation of
our commencement, they will rear and cement the coping stone of our
completion.
--The Rev. Dr. George Hendric Houghton, Founder
On the first Sunday in October, 1848, the first service of the Church of
the Transfiguration was held in a private home at 48 East 24th Street. The
church itself, erected the following year, was built on what were then the
outskirts of the city. To this day, there have been but six rectors
spanning the Church's 152 years. The first Rector, sometimes called the
first Saint of the American Church, the Rev'd George Hendric Houghton,
served for 49 years. Under his leadership the Church was built and
expanded, as some said, "like a holy cucumber vine." It was he
who pioneered the Oxford Movement to revive the full Catholic Faith among
Episcopal Churches in the United States. In his ministry to those in need,
he sheltered escaped slaves during the draft riots of the Civil War,
maintained a bread line for the unemployed, and had a prominent part in
the founding of the Order of the Holy Cross, the oldest continuing
monastic Order in the Episcopal Church in this country.
It
was in 1870 that Joseph Jefferson was rebuffed in arranging for the
funeral of his friend, George Holland, an actor. Told that there was a
little church around the corner where "they do that sort of
thing," Jefferson fervently exclaimed, "God Bless the Little
Church Around the Corner" and that famous benediction has echoed down
through the years. This brought about a close relationship with the people
of the theater which has continued to this day. It also brought about the
founding, in 1923, of the Episcopal Actors' Guild, which carries on an
active program at its national headquarters in the Guild Hall. Because of
our work in the Church and Theater, the Church of the Transfiguration was
designated a United States Landmark in 1973.
This romantic history has brought many people to have their marriage vows
solemnized at the altars of the Church and today members of the
"Family of the Little Church Around the Corner," resulting from
such marriages, are to found in fifty states and numerous countries.
Today, the Little Church continues amidst this great tradition to worship
God and to serve humankind. We invite you to join your life to the prayer,
praise and service which goes on in this Church daily.
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The First Dr. Houghton
On
the first Sunday in October 1848, George Hendric Houghton gathered a
band of twenty-four followers for a celebration of Holy Communion in the
parlor of the home of the Rev. Dr. Lawson Carter, an elderly priest, on
East Twenty-fourth Street. As Houghton's followers left this service by
the back door, they stepped into a road fortuitously called Love Lane.
None of those first worshipers could have imagined that they had just
attended the first service of the Church of the Transfiguration, later to
be celebrated as "The Little Church Around the Corner." It was
even more unlikely that they could have foreseen the rich church life, the
exciting ecclesiastical and secular history, and the enviable record of
loving service that they and their successors would extend to the people
of New York City - indeed to men and women from all over the globe.
The
twenty-eight-year-old priest who called this small congregation into
being, however, had a clear vision in mind: to establish a parish that
would minister to the poor and needy of New York City. Dr. Houghton had
his heart set on building a church near Bellevue Hospital because that was
the most desperate, poverty-stricken section of Manhattan at the time, but
eventually, for financial reasons, a site was chosen on East Twenty-ninth
Street just off Fifth Avenue on what were then the outskirts of town. The
site had an unobstructed view south across fields to Madison Square and
north to Murray Hill. The first service in the new church was held on
Sunday, March 28, 1850, in what is now the west half of the nave. Dr.
Houghton had wanted the church to have free pews. (Most churches had
rented pews at that time.) But again, because of financial considerations,
other founding members of the parish finally persuaded the rector to
settle for ten percent of the pews to be free. Undaunted, he campaigned
for free pews throughout his rectorate.
Dr.
Houghton was a pioneer of the Oxford Movement here in America. The Church
of the Transfiguration was founded as a direct outgrowth of the Tractarian
(or first) phase of the Oxford Movement, which began in England in 1833
and sought to restore the practice of the full Catholic faith to
Anglicanism. The movement brought not only renewed sacramental life and
enriched liturgies to churches but also, to worshipers, a deeper
understanding of the Church's comprehensive concern for all people. These
two emphases have shaped all that has happened in the unique and vivid
history of this parish church - Fides Opera, Faith and Works, as
our founder frequently reminded his congregation.
A
single striking event that might well have gone unnoticed led the Church
of the Transfiguration into the annals of fame in the secular as well as
in the religious history of our country as "The Little Church Around
the Corner." In December 1870 an actor named George Holland died. His
friend Joseph Jefferson, the leading comic actor of the day, went to the
rector of the Church of the Atonement (which no longer exists) on Madison
Avenue to see about the funeral. Upon hearing that Holland had been an
actor, the Rev. William T. Sabine said that he could not possibly bury
him. The astonished Jefferson asked if there were someplace else where he
could arrange for Holland's funeral. The clergyman said, "I believe
there's a little church around the corner that does that sort of
thing," to which Joseph Jefferson replied in words that became known
as Jefferson's benediction: "If this be so, then God bless the Little
Church Around the Corner!" And the actor walked around the corner and
asked our first rector to bury his friend.
Dr.
Houghton willingly officiated at the funeral of George Holland just before
Christmas. After Christmas the story began to make its way into newspapers
around the country. At a time when actors were considered social outcasts,
Dr. Houghton's kind and Christian act appealed to the conscience of the
nation. Not only did actors start coming to the church but contributions
began to pour in from all over the country. Joseph Jefferson's sobriquet
stuck, and soon lyricists and writers began to publish songs and dramas
about "The Little Church Around the Corner." The long and vital
relationship between our church and the people of the theater was born,
and in this birth our church won a place in people's hearts everywhere.
Though
it may appear that Dr. Houghton's compassionate willingness to bury George
Holland arose out of some understanding of or special interest in the
theater, a historical analysis will reveal that our first rector's act of
pastoral kindness was rooted in his response to Christ's call for the
Church to minister to all who are ignored, downtrodden, or undervalued by
social convention. He took as his personal motto for his letter seal a
line from the Roman poet Terence: Homo sum: humani nil a me alienum
puto, "I am a man: nothing human is alien to me." Dr.
Houghton made himself available to anyone at any time of the day or night.
He instituted the practice of leaving a candle burning in the window and
put a night bell at the door for all in need. He even refrained from going
to the theater, to which he received many invitations, lest he miss some
poor person who sought his aid. He also established a number of charitable
societies to help carry out his vision. As a result of Dr. Houghton's
extensive ministry and the sprawling expansion of the church building, the
church became known in the 1860s as the "Holy Cucumber Vine."
His long interest in the abolition of
slavery led Dr. Houghton to found the first black Sunday school in New
York City and to harbor runaway slaves as part of the Underground Railway,
one stop on which was the basement of the church's rectory. During the
Civil War, many recent European immigrants of the late 1850s and early
1860s were drafted against their will into the Union Army. They took out
their rage and resentment on the blacks, whom the immigrants blamed for
the war. Blacks were burned, hanged, and mutilated during the Draft Riots
of July 1863. So well known as defender and friend was our courageous
founder that a large number of black people who were beleaguered and
threatened sought sanctuary in his church. Angry mobs trying to get at
those who had found sanctuary within the church twice thronged the gates
of the churchyard. Policemen on duty warned our founder that they could
not insure protection from the mob. With firm resolution, George Houghton
lifted the processional cross from its place in the church, walked out to
face the rioters, held it before them, and said, "Stand back, you
white devils; in the name of Christ, stand back!" With such
courageous words, George Houghton held off the unruly mob, and those in
the church remained safe for several more days, until the mob had been
quelled and dispersed.
George
Hendric Houghton was the rector of the church he founded from 1848 to
1897. In that time, our tiny country church was extended and more than
quadrupled in size; its adornment with European art was begun in our
founder's later years as rector. A fine musical tradition was established
and flourished. This led, in 1881, to the formation of a vested choir of
men and boys, which today enjoys a reputation as the oldest such choir in
New York City.
Our
church was the first in the Anglican Communion to be dedicated to the
mystery of our Lord's Transfiguration. For forty-four years, George
Houghton waged a campaign to include the celebration of the Feast of the
Transfiguration (August 6th) in the Prayer Book calendar of feasts. In the
new Book of Common Prayer of 1892, his quest was crowned with success, and
in consequence many new parishes formed in the 1880s and 1890s chose to
dedicate their churches to the Transfiguration.
The regular cycle of liturgical prayer lay
always at the heart of our founder's ministry. The Oxford Movement had
restored the centrality of the Sunday celebration of the Holy Eucharist,
and Dr. Houghton brought that focus to our church from its foundation. He
had recited the daily offices since the beginning of his ministry. From
1880 onward a regular daily mass has been celebrated in our church. The
sacrament of penance and absolution has always been made available and
encouraged as an unfailing vehicle of God's reconciling grace.
Dr.
Houghton was also one of the principal influences in the founding of the
Order of the Holy Cross, the first American Anglican religious order for
men. For more than forty years, the Rev. J. O. S. Huntington, Superior,
OHC, and later the Rev. Shirley Carter Hughson, Superior, OHC, preached at
the Good Friday Three Hour Services in our church.
During the 1880s and 1890s people from all
social classes and races worshiped here as one family. Perhaps this
comprehensive makeup of our congregation is the most valuable legacy we
have received in addition to the tradition of regular eucharistic worship
established during George Hendric Houghton's long rectorate.
Late in 1896 our father founder became ill.
He was seventy-seven years old and had been our rector for forty-nine
years when, after a short period of confinement, he died on November 17,
1897.
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The Second Dr. Houghton
Before
his death, George Hendric Houghton made clear his wish that his nephew
George Clarke Houghton, a priest in Hoboken, New Jersey, should succeed
him. The younger Houghton's ministry was principally one of enlargement
and enrichment, based upon his uncle's solid foundation. The Lady Chapel
was a gift from George Clarke Houghton in memory of his wife, Mary, who
had died in 1902, after living only six years in this parish.
The liturgical life of the parish grew
apace, heavily influenced from the turn of the century until the early
1920s by the developing Anglo-Catholic movement in the American Episcopal
Church. In 1920 our parish was host to the Second Anglo-Catholic Congress,
a national conclave of like-minded members of the Episcopal Church that
was inspired by the great Anglo-Catholic Congresses of the turn of the
century in England.
To
improve communications among members of our increasingly far-flung
congregation, Dr. Houghton instituted a four-page newsletter called the Kalendar,
in which the rector would try to make his views known through the use of
fictional dialogues. Each week 1500 copies were distributed.
The desire of young couples to be married
in our church grew as the twentieth century matured. Our second rector set
a standard of serious marriage instruction, grounded and nurtured in the
Christian faith and life. Today, as throughout our history, our clergy
prepare couples with care, in adherence to the marriage laws of the
Episcopal Church, which enjoins the Christian values of lifelong marital
fidelity and commitment to family life.
One notable event during the rectorate of
the second Dr. Houghton was the funeral of O. Henry (William Sydney
Porter), when an incident occurred that embodied the sardonic twist of
many of the beloved short stories of this famous writer. O. Henry lived at
the Caledonia Hotel on Twenty-sixth Street and mentioned the church in
several stories, including "The Romance of the Busy Broker" and
"The Cop and the Anthem." When he died it was natural that his
body should lie in the church's St. Joseph of Arimathea mortuary chapel.
His funeral was scheduled for a June day in 1910 at eleven o'clock. Unfortunately
a wedding had been scheduled for the same time. Luckily the groom spied
the hearse as he approached the church and managed to whisk his future
bride away to the nearby Holland House Hotel for an hour until the funeral
was over. The bride never knew what had transpired until long after her
wedding day.
After World War I many of the families
resident in our geographical parish began to migrate uptown. New
businesses moved into our neighborhood, and large urban office buildings
were constructed in place of the old town houses that had lined the
streets of the East Twenties and Thirties north of Madison Square.
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What is the Church of the
Transfiguration?
R. William Franklin, Ph.D.
Dean, Berkeley Divinity School
Yale University
New Haven, CT
The Church of the Transfiguration
is one of the most famous parishes of the Episcopal Church in the United
States, itself a part of the worldwide family of churches in communion
with the Archbishop of Canterbury. Transfiguration is known throughout the
country as "The Little Church Around the Corner," and for one
hundred and fifty years it has been a very visible worshiping community in
an urban setting that has welcomed all classes, all races, and
particularly all those marginalized by society for whatever reason, as
were actors and actresses, who had theretofore been on the fringes of both
society and the Episcopal Church.
The Church of the Transfiguration practiced
this deliberate inclusivity for two reasons. First, it was among the
earliest parochial outposts in the New World of the Catholic revival in
the Anglican Communion. This revival began in England and was associated
with the Oxford Movement, whose teachings first arrived on these shores in
about 1839. In response to the Age of Revolution in England, which
included the industrial revolution, democratic reform, and urbanization,
the leaders of the Oxford Movement reasserted that the Churches of the
Anglican Communion are part of the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic
Church of Jesus Christ on earth. In this proclamation they looked in two
directions: They looked backward to the primitive church of the persecuted
and oppressed, gathered as a eucharistic community; this primitive model
was to be a model for the modern church. And they looked up: The church to
the Oxford Fathers is also a supernatural society, the body on earth of
the risen Jesus, who through the Holy Spirit sanctifies men and women and
makes saints. One of these Oxford Fathers, Edward Pusey, urged in
particular that the Anglican Catholic revival should focus on modern
cities, such as London and New York, rather than on areas of former
population concentration and the picturesque countryside where the
comfortable parishes were located.
Second, this parish was the creation in
1848 of a man who not only successfully transferred Dr. Pusey's Oxford
teaching to Manhattan, but had himself experienced life on the fringes of
society. When George Houghton moved to New York City in 1834, he had to
work fifteen hour days while still a student to help support his widowed
mother. He was so poor after becoming rector of this parish that he lived
in the sacristy of the church until a rectory was built, and even later
Dr. Houghton supplemented his parochial income by teaching Hebrew at the
General Theological Seminary for the meager sum of $500 a year.
George Houghton concluded, on the basis of
his own experience and Dr. Pusey's teaching, that some Episcopalians
should build a spiritual home in this city of New York to which all would
be welcomed. When no one came forward to build such a church, he realized
that that builder and pioneer would have to be himself, and he announced
his plan to establish a place "where the Church should be free to
all, where charitable institutions for the afflicted of all sorts and
conditions are made available for all."
This ideal of Catholic inclusivity in the
Episcopal Church, which this parish perhaps more than any other in America
stood for in the nineteenth century, the welcoming of actors and actresses
to sacraments and services for which it became well known, caused
"The Little Church Around the Corner" to be immortalized
throughout the nation.
What is less well known is that in 1894,
after fashion had begun to move up Fifth Avenue north of Twenty-ninth
Street, the parish fell on hard times. The news spread in the theatrical
world of New York City, and within a month elicited a tremendous financial
response from Broadway in support of the Church of the Transfiguration,
$3,000 more than was needed for the budget. In typical fashion, Dr.
Houghton devoted the excess contributions to the needs of the sick and the
poor, to the care of homeless children, and to establish a fund to bury
from this church the penniless dead of the city whose families could not
afford a proper funeral.
Of the contributions of people of the
theater to sustain the parish through the twentieth century, Dr. Houghton
wrote:
What you have given is to God, for the
use of His sanctuary, the diffusion of His Gospel, the relief of His
poor - and there shall be no depreciation on this gift you have given.
The gold-rate shall not affect it - no victory, nor defeat, nor change
of government, nor baneful legislation. What you have given no
gold-bearing bonds of the nation shall yield you an income so sure and
so ample. And when you die you will find it already converted into those
everlasting per cents which an heavenly science can only compute.
As we end the twentieth century, we live at
a moment when many despair in the face of the problems of the
institutions, large and small, of the Church. Before such uncertainty the
institutional history of the Church often seems "superficial and
unworthy, absorbed in trivialities and rivalries," neglecting the
deepest fears and longings of God's people.
Yet the founding vision of this parish,
wrought out of a time of Christian renewal a century and a half ago, which
has sustained it from its early days, still speaks of faith in God's
unquenchable desire for the wholeness and restoration of every man and
woman in this city, and the record of nine generations who have come to
"The Little Church Around the Corner" gives us hope that our
church life is not doomed to ultimate frustration but may find its
unimaginable fulfillment in the presence and in the joy of the One by whom
we were made. The example of the founder and the forebears now beckons us
forward to look at the future as the Apostle Paul looked at it,
"confident that nothing can separate us from the love of God,
constantly leaving the things that are behind, and stretching out toward
the things which lie before us, toward the high calling of God in Christ
Jesus."
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The Chancel Area
As
one enters the church nave, the eye is at once drawn to the colorful
vision of the high altar and reredos. On either side of the chancel
arch are two Venetian mosaic rondels - the Archangel Gabriel
(on the left) announcing the birth of the Incarnate Son of God to the
Blessed Virgin Mary (on the right). Both figures point the worshiper
toward the sanctuary, where the high altar, with its reredos
depicting our Lord's Transfiguration, dominates the vista. Together they
represent a statement of the presence of Christ in and with His church. In
this initial view of the interior of our church, one realizes the truth of
the description of a Christian church as a roof and walls that surround
and protect a eucharistic altar. The two stained-glass windows on either
side of the high altar underscore this point. They show angels censing the
altar and the words: "Holy, holy, holy, / Lord God of Sabaoth."
Frederick Clark Withers, an English
Victorian Gothic Revival architect, designed the chancel, which he
rebuilt, extended, and decorated in 1880 - 81. The handsomely carved sedilia
and stalls in the presbytery of the church were designed by
Henry Vaughn as choir stalls for the newly enlarged choir of the 1880s.
These stalls were adapted to their present use as seats for the clergy and
acolytes after the choir was returned to its earlier position in the
church, between the south side of the nave and the south transept.
The rich polychrome of the reredos and the
sanctuary wall represents a relatively new effort to follow the principles
of the Cambridge-Camden Society, founded in 1839, whose aims were to
revive historically authentic Anglican worship and ceremonial, to restore
medieval churches, and to see new churches built in the Gothic style and
richly decorated so as to involve the senses as an aid to worship. To
these ends, the society carried out extensive ecclesiological surveys of
medieval churches in England and laid down its canon for a "model
church" that would embody the society's tenets.
The
parapet, or rood wall, which demarcates the nave from the
chancel, is made of white marble inset with colorful mosaic. The left-hand
panel bears a pelican pecking its breast to feed its young; the right-hand
panel, the lamb of God - both symbols of sacrifice. Grapes and sheaves of
wheat surround both figures. These are all ancient eucharistic themes. The
parapet was placed here in 1903 by George Clarke Houghton as a memorial to
his wife.
The elaborately wrought brass pulpit
stands near the chancel on the northeast side of the nave and was designed
by the most notable American architect of the early Gothic Revival,
Richard Upjohn. The lectern on the south side responds elegantly to
the pulpit. Edwin Booth, the distinguished actor, made the gift of a Bible
for the lectern. From these two richly detailed church furnishings the
Word of God is proclaimed and read.
The Blessed George Hendric Houghton Chapel
To
the south of the sanctuary lies the chapel dedicated in honor of our
founder, who was called in his own time " the first saint of the
American Church." The chapel contains a simple freestanding altar,
covered in festal seasons by a rich red-and-gold Jacobean frontal.
From the 1880s until 1987 this space was occupied by a large pipe organ.
The pipes of the lowest pedal stop of our present organ hang on the south
wall of this chapel. The large painting behind the altar is a
nineteenth-century copy of Domenichino's Communion of St. Jerome.
The seventeenth-century original hangs in the Vatican.
The Transept
The south transept,
which was built in 1854 and extended in the 1860s, houses a number of
interesting objects and memorials, among them two sixteenth-century
Flemish painted wood panels that ornament the front of the
confessional box. They are side panels of a triptych, the central panel of
which is not in the church's possession. The left-hand panel represents
St-Denis, patron saint of Paris, after his martyrdom; the right-hand
panel, the Virgin and Child. In the foreground of both panels is,
presumably, a family portrait of the donors. Other paintings in the
transept, as well as in the nave and chapels, are mostly
nineteenth-century copies of older paintings.
To the south of the confessional box stands
the columbarium, which was installed in 1991 to contain the
funerary ashes of parishioners and friends of the parish who wish to be
buried in our church. Before the columbarium stands a large icon of the
Resurrection of Christ, known in the Eastern Church as the Anastasis.
This icon provides a bold statement of the Christian resurrection hope. It
was executed by Vladislav Andrejev, dedicated on Easter Day 1995, and
provides a shrine for prayer for the faithful departed. The icon was given
by Father and Mrs. Catir in memory of their parents.
A pair of unusual doors of painted glass
and brass are situated farther along the transept east wall. Mrs. Janos
Schultz, mother of former chorister Christopher Schultz, gave them in
1972, in memory of her first husband, Ernest Schelling (1876 - 1939), the
distinguished pianist, conductor, and composer. Every Sunday the choir
passes through these doors, which show angels playing musical instruments
and which bear the words: "Music is well said to be the speech of
angels."
At the south end of the transept stands a
richly carved and polychromed shrine with a figure of the Madonna and
Child designed by the noted Gothic Revival architect Ralph Adams Cram.
This shrine was installed here in the1920s, when the baptismal font was
moved to its present location between the Chapel of the Holy Family and
the Lady Chapel. The font had originally been located directly in front of
the altar rail in the sanctuary.
The two windows flanking the Madonna Shrine
set forth baptismal themes, in keeping with the former use of the alcove
as a baptistery. The one on the right is a testament to our founder's
Christian stance on racial equality. It is called the "Swing Low,
Sweet Chariot" window because the top panel depicts the scene of
the Ethiopian eunuch in his lavish chariot, talking with St. Philip. The
central panel shows him subsequently being baptized by St. Philip. (See
Acts 8:26 - 39 for the account.) The window memorializes a black couple,
George and Elizabeth Wilson (he a former slave and she a freewoman), as
"Sometime doorkeepers in this House of the Lord," a paraphrase
of Psalm 84:10. The Wilsons worked with the first Dr. Houghton for thirty
years after the Draft Riots of 1863.
On the west wall of the transept there are
two large, important windows. On the left, is the Edwin Booth window
by John La Farge, which portrays the noted actor in the role of Hamlet,
which was given as a memorial by members of the Players Club in 1898.
Booth was a member of this parish and the founder of the Players Club,
which was formed, partly in reparation for his brother John Wilkes Booth's
assassination of Lincoln, to provide a place where actors and nonactors
could meet. The club is located just a few blocks downtown, on Gramercy
Park. On the right, in the style of La Farge, is the King David window
- also known as the "Jeweled Window" because of the richly
colored bits of glass simulating rubies and sapphires - which portrays the
importance of music in God's creative plan. It is a memorial to Joseph W.
Drexel (1831 - 1888). Together the two windows present a fitting tribute
to two of the performing arts, members of which have been among the
worshipers in our church for more than a century.
Just around the corner from the King David
window a blaze of painted glazing that vaguely resembles a collection of
Victorian valentines intrigues the viewer. These windows in fact contain
the psalms of the Office of Compline, the last monastic office of the day.
The design of the Compline windows was adapted from paintings on
parchment executed by Caroline Graves Anthon Houghton, the wife of our
founder, and the windows were given as a memorial to her after her death
in 1871. A crèche is placed in the area in front of them during
Christmastide. Sarah Morgridge refurbished the crèche figures in the
early 1990s, when her son, Dugan, was a chorister.
The Arnold Schwartz Memorial Organ
In
1980, Mrs. Arnold Schwartz made it possible for this church to
complete and make final its plans to commission one of the finest pipe
organs recently built for a New York church. Designed and constructed by
the C. B. Fisk organ company of Gloucester, Massachusetts, the organ (Opus
92) was finished and dedicated on April 10, 1988. It is a tracker, or
mechanical-action, organ, designed largely in the eighteenth-century North
German tonal style but with an extensive nineteenth-century French Cavaillé-Coll
type swell division. This union of two historic organ-building styles
makes for great versatility in performing the organ literature of all
periods, as well as producing an instrument eminently fit to present and
accompany traditional Anglican liturgical music. The organ case was
designed by Charles Nazarian, a consultant to C. B. Fisk, and executed
largely in the Fisk workshop in Gloucester along with the rest of the
instrument. The late Daniel Maloney, a distinguished artist and onetime
vestryman of the church, designed and carved the twelve quatrefoil
bas-relief plaques set around three sides of the lower portion of the
case. The organ and choir stalls rest on a platform of Brazilian cherry, a
hardwood that increases musical resonance.
St. Joseph of Arimathea Chapel and
Surrounding Area
This requiem chapel,
which was designed by George Clarke Houghton in 1908 in memory of the
founder, lies to the south of and behind the organ and choir area. Its
entrance is graced by a marvelously carved and polychromed angel screen
that is pierced by an arch in the center of which is a gate, the finest
piece of wrought-iron craftsmanship in the church.
Within the octagonal chapel is the St.
Joseph altar, over which is the painted-glass Transfiguration
window. This window was over the high altar until 1881, when the east
end of the church was enlarged and enriched. The ceiling of the St.
Joseph chapel presents a lively vision of the heavenly host, painted on
canvas panels fitted between the ribs of the plaster vault.
St. Joseph of Arimathea was the rich man
who gave his tomb for the burial of Christ's body after He was crucified.
Today the chapel is used as a place where the coffin of a deceased person
may lie before the day of the funeral, and friends and loved ones may come
and pray.
To the right of the St. Joseph chapel is
the statue of the Singing Boy, made in 1871 in Rome by an American
artist. When the open songbook he is holding is lightly touched, it gives
forth melodic notes. Next to the statue is the Houghton window,
depicting George Clarke Houghton celebrating Solemn Mass at the high altar
at the Second Anglo-Catholic Congress, which was held in the church in
1920. A gift of Dr. Houghton's daughter, it was dedicated in 1926.
The
Good Shepherd statue, placed opposite the Houghton window on the
west side of the organ case, is the figure of our Lord holding a lamb. It
is the oldest carved statue in the church and was originally set in the
old wooden pulpit, in 1858. Without doubt, this is one of the first carved
images employed in the Episcopal Church, because Puritan inhibitions had
suppressed the liturgical arts in our communion until well after the
mid-nineteenth century. This charming figure has been located in four
different positions in the church since its introduction.
The South Aisle of the Nave
Turning
left into the south aisle of the nave, one can see several windows.
The most important is the Joseph Jefferson window, which is a
memorial to the renowned actor who pronounced his benediction on our
church, thus bestowing upon it its popular name, "The Little Church
Around the Corner." For more than forty years, Jefferson starred in
the role of Rip Van Winkle, and the right-hand panel of the window shows
Jefferson as Rip, bringing the shroud-wrapped body of his actor friend to
the church. The left-hand panel shows the image of the risen Lord, with
nail wounds in his hands and feet, standing by our lych-gate and greeting
Jefferson as he escorts George Holland's body to his burial service. In
panels above and beneath the two main window lights are scenes from
Washington Irving's story of Rip Van Winkle. This window was given by the
Episcopal Actors' Guild and unveiled by the actor's great-granddaughter,
Lauretta Jefferson Corlett, on February 20, 1925, the ninety-sixth
anniversary of Joseph Jefferson's birth.
To
the left of the Joseph Jefferson window is a bronze memorial tablet
dedicated to Otis Skinner (1858 - 1942). The tablet, unveiled by his
distinguished daughter, Cornelia Otis Skinner, on October 4, 1943, is the
work of the American sculptor Paul Manship. Another window on the south
aisle is a memorial to the noted actor Richard Mansfield, who died in
1907.
Throughout the church are dormer windows,
located above the main windows. One that is of particular interest to
parishioners and visitors alike is The Golden Rule window over the
rear of the south aisle, which was given in 1933 in honor of Dr. Ray's
tenth anniversary as rector. The theme is the Golden Rule as it has been
interpreted by the great world religions, culminating in the Christian
concept of "Love Triumphant" shown in the central medallion.
This medallion depicts a crowned heart with a figure denoting Light (on
the left) and another denoting Prayer (on the right). Medallion symbols
down the left side represent (according to 1930s sources) the
Persian religion by the palm-leaf pattern, the Islamic by a water jug, the
Buddhist by the ancient fylfot cross, and the Egyptian by the lotus. (The
fylfot cross, or swastika, is one of the most common variations of the
non-Christian cross, and it appears in many ancient cultures.) Down the right
side the Hindu religion is symbolized by the Tree of Life, the Roman
by the dolphin, the Hebrew by the seven-branched menorah, and the Chinese
by the cloud representing heaven.
The North Aisle of the Nave
The Stations of the Cross,
which begin at the east end of the north aisle, continue down that aisle,
and conclude on the south wall of the nave, were given by Mrs. Franklin
Delano (the former Laura Astor), a devout member of the parish and the
great-aunt of Franklin Delano Roosevelt. The paintings are of antique
provenance, probably late eighteenth century, and were acquired from a
chapel in Rome.
A series of stained-glass windows
and bronze memorial tablets along the wall of the north aisle of
the nave pay tribute to members of the theater in particular, but to
people in other walks of life as well. Among those memorialized on the
bronze tablets are: the Benét family, Will Rogers, P. G. Wodehouse,
Walter Edmund Bentley, Cornelia Otis Skinner, and Vinton Freedley. Two
actors memorialized in stained glass are: Montague, a matinee idol of the
1870s, and John Drew. The St. Alban window and the St. Augustine
window show the first English Christian martyr and the first
Archbishop of Canterbury, respectively.
The
St. Faith window, at the east end of the north aisle, near the
pulpit, is the oldest stained-glass window in the church and must be one
of the most ancient pieces of stained glass in an American church. The
window was designed in the fourteenth century for a Belgian church that
was destroyed during the Napoleonic Wars. It depicts Ste-Foi (in English,
St. Faith), a pious French virgin.
The Narthex
The narthex and chapel screens,
which separate the nave of the church from the Chapel of the Holy Family,
were dedicated on New Year's Day 1928. The design was inspired by the rood
screen at St. Giles', Lord Shaftesbury's chapel at Wimbourne, in the south
of England. This memorial to Elijah P. Smith, a parishioner for over fifty
years and longtime senior warden, was given by his sister, Mrs. Eleanor de
Forest Boteler. Wilfred E. Anthony was the architect of the memorial. The
figures in the Crucifixion group (above the archway) and the saints
(on the opposite wall of the narthex) were made by the celebrated
woodcarvers of Oberammergau, Germany.
The Peace Shrine, a statue of our
Lord designed after the famous Christus Consolator by Thorwaldsen, was
dedicated on Armistice Day in 1942 by Dr. J. H. Randolph Ray. It was
originally called the Victory Shrine and stood in the alcove of the
Compline Windows but now serves here as a focus for the devotions of many
who visit the church to offer prayers.
Chapel of the Holy Family
This
portion of the church is part of the original building and was first
used as a parish schoolroom for boys. In 1852, as the congregation
increased, a gable-windowed second story was added, and the school moved
upstairs. Later the second story became the guild hall and national
headquarters for the Episcopal Actors' Guild of America.
In 1926 the Chapel of the Holy Family,
also known as the "Brides' Chapel," was reconstructed and
designated as a memorial to the first Dr. Houghton. Again, in 1940, the
chapel was extensively redecorated, this time for Dr. Ray's seventeenth
anniversary. New pews were installed, and the walls and ceiling of the
chapel were redecorated and paneled in oak.
The eight windows on the north wall
are a memorial to the first Dr. Houghton and were given by his nephew and
successor. The upper group of four lights depict scenes from the life
of Christ: the Nativity, the boy Jesus in the Temple, at his baptism,
and at prayer in Gethsemane. The lower group of eight lights illustrates
the Beatitudes, in fitting tribute to the saintly life of the
church's founder. The north wall also has a bronze memorial tablet to the
memory of the second rector, George Clarke Houghton.
The famous Brides' Altar was blessed
on Foundation Day in 1926 and is so called because the funds for it were
contributed by hundreds of couples joined in holy matrimony here. The
tabernacle door of the altar is adorned with jewels contributed by brides,
a custom of the day. Tens of thousands of marriages have taken place
before this altar.
The
polychromed reredos, the gift of friends and parishioners, is in
the form of a triptych. Set into the reredos are three rare carvings of
black oak. These are more than four hundred years old and were brought
here from a dismantled Scottish monastery. All three panels contain
Crucifixion scenes and were probably originally part of a set of Stations
of the Cross. Above these ancient panels is a painting on wood of the Betrothal
of the Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph. Adoring angels adorn the two
doors of the triptych.
In the southwest corner of the chapel
stands a charming white marble statue of the Madonna and Child by
the noted English sculptor Richard Westmacott, R.A., who also did the
portico sculptures at Buckingham Palace, celebrating the battles of
Trafalgar and Waterloo. Around to the south side, in an arched recessed
area that forms a baptistery, there is a small plaque in memory of the
English actress Gertrude Lawrence.
On the left side of the baptistery is the
entrance to the Lady Chapel, or the Chapel of the Blessed Virgin
Mary. This tiny chapel, lovingly built in 1906 by the Rev. Dr. George
Clarke Houghton as a memorial to his wife, Mary Creemer Pirsson Houghton,
is separated from the Chapel of the Holy Family by three double doors
of stained glass, which may be folded open. These are balanced by three
arched windows in the south wall that show, left to right, Raphael's Madonna
del Granduca, the church's high altar and rood wall (painting on
glass), and Botticelli's Virgin and Child. The entire Lady Chapel
is in the English Middle Pointed Gothic style, with the high-pointed arch
in oak over the window and door openings as well as the altar recess.
|
The Church in Modern Times
After
the death of George Clarke Houghton in 1923, the Very Rev. J. H.
Randolph Ray, the Dean of St. Matthew's Cathedral in Dallas, was
called to be our third rector. Dr. Ray had been a student at the General
Theological Seminary as well as curate at Zion and St. Timothy, a West
Side parish, before he went to Dallas. His wife, Mary Elmendorf Watson,
was the granddaughter of the Very Rev. Dr. Eugene A. Hoffman, one of the
most notable deans of the General Theological Seminary. The new rector had
a personal interest in people of the theater.
The historic shrine ministry of our church
to members of the theatrical profession, as well as to couples seeking
Christian marriage, had increased during the twenty-five year rectorate of
George Clarke Houghton. Dr. Ray seemed admirably prepared to take
advantage of the increasing urban nature of our parish by further
developing our theater and marriage ministries, and that is what he did.
At the same time our third rector popularized our nickname, "The
Little Church Around the Corner." In 1943, during World War II, the
number of weddings in our church reached a peak of 2,900 marriages
performed in one year. Every Saturday - sometimes on weekdays as well
during this period when servicemen in vast numbers were being posted
overseas - couples would line up in the church garden to await their turn
to be married.
Shortly after his arrival in 1923, Dr. Ray
joined with the Rev. Walter Bentley and Deaconess Jane Hall to found the
Episcopal Actors' Guild of America, an association formed both to foster
the work of the church among people of the theater and to express the
needs of theater people to the church. Walter Bentley, a priest who had
been a Shakespearian actor, had founded the Actors' Church Alliance in
1892. Deaconess Jane Hall had established the Rehearsal Club, a residence
for young actresses newly arrived in New York City. It seemed natural for
the Church of the Transfiguration to become the home of the organization
formed to link church and theater. J. H. Randolph Ray was made the Actors'
Guild's first warden by virtue of his office as rector of our church, and
all succeeding rectors have been ex officio wardens of the guild ever
since.
The
noted actor George Arliss was elected first president of the Episcopal
Actors' Guild. Such theatrical greats as Otis Skinner, Basil Rathbone,
Walter Hampden, Vinton Freedley, Tallulah Bankhead, Peggy Wood, Cornelia
Otis Skinner, Walter Abel, Sidney Blackmer, Charlton Heston, Joan
Fontaine, Rex Harrison, and Barnard Hughes have graced the annals of the
guild as president, vice president, or as member of its council.
Even as Dr. Ray carried on his extensive
work with people of the theater, he also reached out in response to wider
social needs brought on by the Great Depression. In 1930, beneath the lych-gate
of our church, he organized a breadline that distributed food to hungry
people, even as his two predecessors had done before him in times of
economic crisis. The breadline usually extended over to and up Madison
Avenue and then back toward Fifth Avenue on Thirtieth Street. In
consultation with Dr. Ray, Heywood Broun, along with Mrs. William Randolph
Hearst and Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt, set up an employment bureau in a
nearby brownstone. The bureau was designed to help the men in the
breadline prepare to get a job by providing facilities for showering,
before receiving a new ten-dollar suit, and by doing whatever else was
necessary to make them employable.
Dr.
Ray also founded "The Family of the Little Church Around the
Corner," affectionately known as "The Little Family," which
is an organization made up largely of persons who had been either married
or baptized in our church, though open to any friend of the parish.
Through "The Little Family" a worldwide network of friends of
our church was created. It continues to this day.
In
1958, having reached the recently mandated retirement age of seventy-two,
J. H. Randolph Ray retired. He died in 1963.
The Rev. Orin A. Griesmyer
was soon called to be our fourth rector. For twenty-one summers prior to
his call, Father Griesmyer had acted as supply priest while Dr. Ray was on
vacation. In consequence, the fourth rector was familiar with our life and
work when he was called to lead this parish. Father Griesmyer saw the need
for a more fully equipped parish house. As a result of his leadership, the
parish replaced the century-old brownstone with a modern structure for
parish activities. It was completed in 1963. Fifteen years later, we found
we could have used an even bigger building.
The
borough of Manhattan experienced extensive demographic changes during the
1960s, similar to the changes our parish neighborhood had undergone forty
years earlier. Middle-class families found life in Manhattan prohibitively
expensive and education for their children less and less satisfactory. To
respond to the increasing urban isolation of our church, Father Griesmyer
encouraged community activities and established a club for couples and for
single young adults. At the same time he attended to the growing number of
"Little Family" members, traveling to different parts of the
United States to visit them and welcoming them back to visit the place of
their nuptials - or baptisms - anytime, but especially on Foundation Day.
As have all of our rectors, Father
Griesmyer practiced and taught the full faith of the universal Catholic
Church, maintaining the eucharistic ministry of Sunday and daily masses.
Perhaps
one of the most important stands that Orin Griesmyer made came early in
his ministry here. New York City was preparing to build a crosstown aerial
highway that would have left this charming landmark church stranded
between the east- and westbound lanes. Father Griesmyer led the parish to
adopt a strong position against such a highway. He argued that the
building of more roads would increase incoming traffic and so in no way
diminish congestion in south midtown Manhattan. In 1962 this was a new
idea to many in the world of urban planning. One newspaper, the New
York World-Telegram and Sun, derisively called the theory "Griesmyer's
Law." Fortunately the aerial highway plan was ultimately abandoned,
and today we can see that our fourth rector was right: "Griesmyer's
Law" has too often proved lamentably true.
Father Griesmyer's thirteen years as rector
of our church came to a close with his retirement in 1971. He is now
rector emeritus and lives in St. Petersburg, Florida, with his wife Doris.
When
Norman J. Catir, Jr., arrived at the Church of the Transfiguration
in 1971 as our fifth rector in 123 years, the Episcopal Church was in the
midst of Prayer Book revision. Having been made chairman of the Liturgical
Commission of the Diocese of New York soon after his arrival, Father Catir
brought the parish into this process through the trial-use rites provided
by the Standing Liturgical Commission of the Episcopal Church. Eventually
a conservative liturgical renewal evolved - as exemplified in the regular
celebration of Solemn Mass on Sundays (according to the use of Rite I in
the 1979 Book of Common Prayer), public baptisms, and full celebration of
the Easter Vigil with Holy Baptism and the first Mass of Easter.
Many visitors, as well as regular
parishioners, appreciate the beauty and dignity of worship at
Transfiguration, which is enhanced by the singing of our fine choir of
boys and men. To insure the continuance of this choir, the Anthony J.
Mercede Choir Scholarship Fund was founded in memory of our devoted junior
warden and treasurer after his death in 1985.
Many organists have said that our new organ
(the Arnold Schwartz Memorial Organ, dedicated in 1988) is the finest in
New York City, and the story of how it came to be is worth telling. The
need for a new organ had been increasingly evident in the 1960s and 1970s.
The parish did not have the resources to purchase a new instrument, but
that did not stop Father Catir from praying every day for a solution to
the organ problem. He did this for seven years, starting in 1973, during
his daily intercessions after Morning Prayer. His faith and perseverance
were rewarded in due time.
In
1978 the vestry decided to initiate a pledge campaign to underwrite the
cost of organ replacement. After two years of fund raising from the parish
and "The Little Family," it became clear that help was needed
from beyond the membership rolls. At Father Catir's suggestion, John
Baker, a vestry member who was a commercial artist, designed an appeal
poster that was placed at the entrance to the church. The appeal began,
"Our tired old organ has given up the ghost. . . ." This poster
remained at the church entrance for two and a half years. Then, in
November 1980, Mrs. Arnold Schwartz, visiting our church for the first
time, saw the appeal when she came inside to pray. She wondered if she
might do something to help and considered the matter over the following
weekend. During the time she was meditating on this idea, Mrs. Schwartz
came across a book on old New York churches in a bookshop near her home.
She opened the book, and what did she see but a picture of "The
Little Church" at the turn of the century. Suddenly a yellowed
newspaper clipping fell out of the book onto the floor. When she retrieved
it, Mrs. Schwartz found that it was an article about George Hendric
Houghton, our founder. "I wonder if someone is trying to tell me
something," she asked herself.
After further prayer for guidance, she
called Father Catir to inquire into the possibility of making a gift to
enable the church to purchase a pipe organ of distinction and character.
In the end, Marie Schwartz pledged a gift that would triple the then
current size of the organ fund. With gratitude the vestry unanimously
accepted Mrs. Schwartz's generous gift and agreed to name the new
instrument in memory of her late husband, Arnold Schwartz, who had been a
philanthropist himself. From the day Mrs. Schwartz first saw the organ
appeal until the evening on which the vestry thankfully accepted her gift,
one week had elapsed.
At
about this time, Father Catir and the vestry also initiated the renewal
and refurbishment of the church fabric with reconstruction of the nave
roof and work in the transept and the rectory. New ornamentation of the
sanctuary carried the decoration of the church more into the Gothic
Revival style inspired by the Cambridge-Camden Society and A. W. N. Pugin,
one of the seminal English Gothic Revival architects. Father Catir,
exercising his longtime interest in architectural decoration and following
the example of previous rectors, chose the color scheme and design motifs.
ArteNova, under the direction of the late Andrzej S. Bak, executed the
work of renewal and redecoration.
This
project was made possible in part by unexpected offers of assistance from
two women who had not previously been connected with the church. A
substantial gift was made by Mrs. Arnold Schwartz - after she made her
gift for the organ. And at about the same time, the late Greta Kempton, an
artist who had achieved national fame for her portraits of President
Truman, his family, and members of his cabinet, volunteered to restore
many of the church's old paintings, which had become darkened by time and
city pollution. The paintings were rededicated in 1987.
Father Catir has maintained and added to
the church's theater connections during his years as rector. He nurtured
and helped found the Joseph Jefferson Theater Company, which as an
off-off-Broadway company performed regularly from 1971 to 1978 in the
church transept. Further productions continue to be performed on occasion
in the church, and the top floor of the rectory was for many years a
hostel for acting students.
In
keeping with its roots in the Anglo-Catholic revival, our parish hosted
the opening evensong of the national celebration of the Oxford Movement
Sesquicentennial on October 23, 1983.
Finally, social outreach and inclusivity
have continued to be part of our parish. Since 1971 the Murray Hill SRO
Project for Older People has ministered to the needs of the elderly in the
neighborhood. Most of our frail elderly people live in single room
occupancy hotels and have little contact with other people except through
our special program. They breakfast and lunch in our parish hall, and
special holiday celebrations are made possible by members of our parish.
Medical, financial, and social services are available to the men and women
who attend the program.
In order to expand its mission, the parish
reinstituted a Sunday school in the 1970s. It sought to work with homeless
families housed in nearby welfare hotels in the years 1985 - 90. In 1993
we welcomed the Korean-American Episcopal Congregation to worship here and
so have extended our mission in yet another direction.
The
Church of the Transfiguration was designated a National Landmark in 1973
in recognition of its position as a shrine of the American church and
theater. In 1988 the vestry established the Landmark Fund, which was later
named the Willis L. M. Reese Landmark Fund in memory of our beloved
longtime senior warden. The purpose of the fund is to maintain and enhance
this historic landmark.
To celebrate our 150th anniversary in 1998,
our clergy, staff, and loyal parishioners continue to work to build a
community whose longevity and dedication to service will carry our parish
into the twenty-first century and the third millennium of Christianity.
The parish hopes to raise $3,000,000 - that is, $10,000 in thanksgiving
for each of its past 150 years and $10,000 for each of its next 150 years
- so that we may continue our work as both parish church and shrine in the
heart of New York City.
|
Rambling Reflections on Religious
Pluralism
by T. Peter Park tpeterpark@erols.com
There's a little church around the corner
that will (or won't) do or teach this or that. That's one of the
strengths--but some would rather say, weaknesses--of American (and modern
Western) religious freedom and pluralism.
A week ago, I worshipped in the original
"Little Church Around the Corner" in New York, while visiting
the city to help a friend celebrate her birthday. Arriving in the city
early, I attended a 5:30 Mass at the Church of the Transfiguration, the
"Little Church Around the Corner," on East 29th Street between
Fifth and Madison Avenues.
The Church of the Transfiguration is an
Anglo-Catholic Episcopal church, founded by the Rev. Dr. George Hendric
Houghton in 1848. As a church of the Anglo-Catholic movement within the
Episcopal Church, Transfiguration is noted for its elaborate, dignified
worship, but also for its long tradition of service to the poor and
oppressed, and devotion to social justice. It is also famous for its long
identification as a special church for actors--which accounts for its
nickname as the "Little Church Around the Corner."
Actors, along with Blacks, were among the
social outcasts whom Transfiguration and Fr. Houghton befriended in the
19th century. In 1870, the famous actor Joseph Jefferson (1829-1905)
requested a funeral at another midtown New York Episcopal Church for his
actor friend George Holland (1791-1870). Hearing that Holland had been an
actor, the rector refused, acting on the widespread 19th century view of
actors as dissolute, disreputable, immoral folk. However, the rector told
the stunned Jefferson that "There is a little church around the
corner," meaning Transfiguration, that would probably do "that
sort of thing." Jefferson responded, "God bless the little
church around the corner." And indeed Fr. Houghton, who had made
Transfiguration a center for feeding the hungry, anti- slavery agitation,
harboring runaway slaves, and giving sanctuary to Blacks during the 1863
Civil War draft riots, performed the funeral without question. Across the
country, newspapers reported the incident. For actors throughout America,
the "Little Church" became a spiritual haven. Many leading
actors and actresses, including Edwin Booth, began worshipping there.
Booth's own funeral took place at the "Little Church" in 1893.
George Holland's funeral and Fr. Houghton's generosity popularized the
phrase "little church around the corner."
New York's Church of the Transfiguration
was the "little church around the corner" where "that sort
of thing" would be done for an actor's funeral in 1870. These days,
in most communities in the United States and most other industrial Western
countries, there is usually a little church around the corner--somewhere
in one's city or town, within a few minutes' walking or driving
distance--where "that sort of thing" is done (or not done).
"That sort of thing" probably would not refer to marrying or
burying actors these days. Nowadays, it may rather mean accepting and
welcoming (or rather not welcoming) divorcees, single parents, gays, or
lesbians, ordaining (or not ordaining) women or "out" and
non-celibate gays or lesbians to the priesthood or ministry, re-marrying
(or refusing to re-marry) the divorced, allowing (or not allowing) members
of other denominations to receive Holy Communion, encouraging (or
forbidding) the use of Oriental meditation practices, playing plain-chant
and the music of Byrd, Purcell, Tallis, Bach, Händel, and Ralph Vaughan
Williams, or happy-slappy praise-songs projected on overhead
transparencies, burning or not burning incense, denying (or affirming) the
literal physical Resurrection of Christ, his Virgin Birth, or the eternity
of Hell, etc.
Without giving up one's Christian (or
Jewish) identification, one can simply go to the little church (or big
cathedral or little synagogue) around the corner (or 5 blocks away) if one
cannot go along with what one's own priest, pastor, or rabbi says. Except
in the smallest hamlets these days, there's usually a little church around
the corner (or 10 blocks away, or in the next suburb) to accept or oppose
evolution, support or reject the ordination of women, preach theological
liberalism or fundamentalism, bless or denounce same-sex unions, re-marry
or refuse to re-marry divorcees, endorse or denounce contraception, burn
or not burn incense, play Purcell, Byrd, Tallis, Vaughan Williams, and
Gregorian chants or slappy-happy overhead-projected praise-songs, endorse
or disparage pentecostal or practices like tongue-speaking.
The little church around the corner or a
mile down the road may be a more liberal or conservative parish of one's
own denomination, or it may be a church of another, more liberal or
conservative, denomination. Even in the officially monolithic Roman
Catholic Church, one can find priests who dutifully perform modern
vernacular masses or defiantly celebrate pre-Vatican II Latin masses, who
enthusiastically endorse or scornfully ignore miraculous Marian
apparitions and shrines like Lourdes, Fátima, and Medjugorje, encourage
or disparage Pentecostal-like "charismatic" practices, and
passionately proclaim or discreetly downplay and sidestep official
Catholic stands on abortion, contraception, divorce-and-remarriage, and
homosexuality. By moving over to a little church around the corner or down
the road these days, you can find a theology, moral code, and liturgy more
to your own taste or convictions than those of your parents' church,
without bearing the stigma among your pew-neighbors of being in their eyes
a heathen or a fanatic, an agnostic or a holy-roller, an infidel or a
reactionary, a puritan or a libertine.
This is one of the strengths of modern
American (and general modern Western) religious pluralism--or, as some
religious conservatives might rather say, one of its weaknesses. It has
helped make modern Christianity peaceful and tolerant, with no interest in
starting crusades, jihâds, religious wars, or inquisitions. It may also
be criticized for encouraging religious indifferentism, for promoting a
"consumerist" or "cafeteria" attitude to religion and
a "different strokes for different folks," "we all worship
the same God in different ways" view of theological and moral
differences. Believers passionately devoted to the truth of a particular
theology and morality, and the error of others, may blame the abundance of
"little churches around the corner" for encouraging the belief
that different theologies and moralities are not true nor false, not in
conformity nor contradiction to God's will, not reflections nor
distortions of "how things really are out there" in the
spiritual world, but rather simply express different temperamental and
cultural preferences reflecting different personality types, different
class, ethnic, educational, and cultural backgrounds, and different
genders or sexualities. Churchgoers may agree in the abstract that there
is truth and error in religion, that some theologies and moralities are
more true than others--but they no longer care deeply and passionately
about this. They no longer think about it in their daily lives or their
relationships with friends, neighbors, classmates, and co-workers. They no
longer seriously believe that some friend, classmate, or neighbor will
burn forever in Hell for belonging to the wrong church, expressing the
wrong religious views, or indulging in the wrong sexual behavior. They
find it perfectly normal, natural, and reasonable for individuals to
choose the church, theology, and morality most congenial, comfortable, and
natural for a person of their class, sexuality, educational level,
cultural tastes, and general "life-style."
All this reflects the individualistic ethos
of modern Westerm industrial societies, especially the United States. We
are a society of social, cultural, and religious walkers, accustomed to
"voting with our feet." Our "little church around the
corner" approach to religion harmonizes well with the popular wisdom
of 20th century secular books of self-help advice like Bertrand Russell's The
Conquest of Happiness (1930) and Wayne Dyer's Your Erroneous Zones
(1976, 1993).
It may sound odd to bring up a militant
agnostic like Russell in connection with religious diversity. However, his
stress on sympathetic associates in The Conquest of Happiness is in
fact quite relevant to the sociology and psychology of religious
pluralism. For "almost everybody," he felt, "sympathetic
surroundings are necessary to happiness (Bertrand Russell, The Conquest
of Happiness [New York: Horace Liveright, Inc., 1930; New York: The
Hearst Corporation, Avon Book Division, n.d.], p. 83). Because of
"differences of outlook" from his family or community, "a
person of given tastes and convictions" may "find himself
practically an outcast while he lives in one set," although "in
another set he would be accepted as an entirely ordinary human being"
A young man or woman "catches ideas that are in the air," but
then "finds that these ideas are anathema" in his or her
"particular milieu." It "seems to the young as if the only
milieu with which they are acquainted were representative of the whole
world." They "can scarcely believe that in another place or
another set the views which they dare not avow for being thought utterly
perverse"are "the ordinary commonplaces of the age." Young
people thus suffer much "unnecessary misery, sometimes only in youth,
but not infrequently throughout life." This "isolation" is
"not only a source of pain," but "also causes a great
dissipation of energy in the unnecessary task of maintaining mental
independence against hostile surroundings"( The Conquest of
Happiness, pp. 82-83).When "such young people go to a
university," they may find "congenial souls" and
"enjoy a few years of great happiness." Also, an intelligent man
or woman living in a city like London or New York can "generally find
some congenial set in which it is not necessary to practice any constraint
or hypocrisy" (The Conquest of Happiness, p. 84).
Russell was mostly thinking of religion
(plus politics and sexual ethics) in his discussion of people out of
sympathy with their family or community who would be much happier if
surrounded by a more congenial circle of people. Russell himself largely
thought in terms of a simple dichotomy of ultra-conservative
near-fundamentalist religionists versus outspoken agnostics or atheists
like himself. However, his observations about sympathetic versus
unsympathetic social circles are applicable as well to different shadings
of religious belief among believers themselves, between religious
fundamentalists versus liberals. Many young people grow up in
fundamentalist or ultra-conservative Catholic, Protestant, Episcopalian,
or Jewish families, but find themselves out of sympathy with the
hard-shell beliefs of their families or their home-town church or
synagogue. They may be skeptical of their parents', pastor's; or rabbi's
theology, or they may chafe at the strait-laced life- style, or they may
feel tremendous pain at discovering themselves to be gay or lesbian but
condemned as sinners and perverts destined to burn in Hell unless they get
"cured." In many cases, they abandon their religion altogether.
In other cases, however, they decide to keep their basic Christian or
Jewish identification, but choose a more liberal version. They may move to
the more liberal wing of their own denomination, or they may join a more
liberal denomination. In either case, they see themselves as leaving a
"sadly up-tight and out-of-it" religious community where they
are "outcasts" with "utterly perverse" views and
life-styles for an "enlightened" one where they are
"entirely ordinary human beings" holding the "ordinary
commonplaces of the age."
Bertrand Russell was one of the 20th
century's leading philosophers, and a celebrated, passionate intellectual
crusader for pacifism, nuclear disarmament, socialism, educational reform,
freedom of thought and speech, and "free love."Wayne Dyer is a
more "lowbrow" pop-psychologist, an author of popular self-help
books with no interest in any political or social "causes" nor
in flamboyantly eccentric Bohemian nonconformity. However, Dyer's
a-political, un-ideological, un-Utopian recipe for personal happiness and
peace of mind echoes Russell's in its advocacy of quietly walking away
from unnecessary, unproductive conflict with people whose values, beliefs,
interests, or agendas are opposed to your own. Dyer preached this
"walking away" recipe most explicitly in his 1976 best- seller, Your
Erroneous Zones [Wayne W. Dyer, Your Erroneous Zones (New
York:Funk & Wagnalls, 1976; HarperCollins, "Harper
Paperbacks," 1993]
Personal happiness and social progress, for
Dyer, depended on individuals who "reject convention and fashion
their own worlds," who "resist enculturation and the many
pressures to conform." To "function fully" as a free,
happy, effective human being, "resistance to enculturation "was
"almost a given," though one may be "viewed by some as
insubordinate," "seen as different," "labeled selfish
or rebellious," and "at times be ostracized." This has
"nothing to do with anarchy." Dyer wanted not to "destroy
society," but only to "give the individual more freedom...from
meaningless musts and silly shoulds." Even "sensible laws and
rules" do "not apply under every set of circumstances." We
should be free from "constant adherence to the shoulds,"
cultivating "flexibility and repeated personal assessments of how
well the rule works at a particular present moment" (Wayne Dyer, Your
Erroneous Zones, pp. 185-186).
To "resist enculturation," one
had to "become a shrugger," Dyer's term for one who walks away
from useless confrontations. Others would" still choose to
obey," and one would "have to learn to allow them their
choice," with "no anger" at them, "only your own
convictions." Dyer told a story of a Navy friend stationed aboard an
aircraft carrier anchored in San Francisco when President Eisenhower
visited California on a political tour. His fellow-sailors were ordered to
spell out the words "HI IKE" in human formation, so that the
President could look down from his helicopter and see the message. Dyer's
friend "decided the idea was insane, and decided not to do it,
because it conflicted with everything he stood for." But "rather
than stage a revolt," he "simply slipped away for the afternoon,
and allowed everyone else to participate in this demeaning ritual."
He "passed up his one chance to dot the ^Ñi' in ^ÑHi.' However, he
did this with "no put-down of those who chose otherwise, no useless
fighting, simply shrugging and letting others go their own way"
(Dyer, Your Erroneous Zones, p. 186).
"Resisting enculturation" thus
meant "making decisions for yourself and carrying them out as
efficiently and quietly as possible," with "no bandwagons or
hostile demonstrations where they will do no good." The "foolish
rules, traditions and policies" would "never go away," but
"you don't have to be a part of them," only "just shrug as
others go through their sheep motions." If they "want to behave
that way, fine for them but that's not for you." To "make a big
fuss" was "almost always the surest way to incur wrath and
create more obstacles for yourself." One could find "scores of
everyday occurrences where it is easier to circumvent the rules quietly
than to start a protest movement." (Dyer, Your Erroneous Zones,
pp. 186-187).
Wayne Dyer's "shrugger" ethic of
quietly following one's own beliefs and interests without "useless
fighting," of "shrugging and letting others go their own
way" without making a "big fuss," like Russell's
recommendation of sympathetic surroundings, might be seen by some
observers as a good-naturedly cynical depiction of modern "little
church around the corner" religious pluralism. Rather than wasting
time and energy in "useless fighting" or a "big fuss,"
in what Russell called "a great dissipation of energy in the
unnecessary task of maintaining mental independence against hostile
surroundings," many of us simply leave an uncongenial church for one
"around the corner" more suited to our own temperament, cultural
style, or mental outlook.
All this, of course, may seem both to some
cynical atheists and to some zealous religious traditionalists like basic
religious indifferentism or even polite crypto-agnosticism masquerading as
"civilized," "reasonable" religion. I recently, for
instance, read one such indictment of modern "mainstream"
religion by a conservative British Anglican journalist quoted on the
Anglican list. On Tuesday morning, January 1, 2002, an Anglican St.Sams
list-member posted excerpts from an opinion piece by a Matthew Parris from
the UK Times quoted in the previous Saturday's AnglicansOnline that
he found thought provoking. Parris was described as arguing that "the
events of the year, in particular the fanaticisms represented in the
Middle East and Bin Laden, are somehow a clash of values between
reasoning, thinking sorts and the fundamentalist fanatics." Parris
felt that "modern" mainstream religion may just be agnosticism
masquerading as observance, and that "reasonableness in religion
comes from a lack of total commitment-- whether you are Jewish, Muslim, or
Christian." The Anglican St.Sams list-member quoted Parris'
concluding paragraph:
Stronger commitments from some, then, and
stronger antipathy from others. Could things be coming to a head? Could
we be seeing a polarisation of public attitudes to faith? For more than
a century now the dominant attitude in the Western world has been an
apathy which I would describe as covert agnosticism masquerading as weak
observance. Is Osama bin Laden flushing this agnosticism out? If so, we
may see an increase both in the religious enthusiasm of the minority,
and the avowed scepticism of the majority. When it comes to the
relationship between modern man and religious faith, the century now
beginning may prove make-up-your-mind time. I hope so.
Matthew Parris' description of
"reasonable" Western religionists as covert agnostics reminded
me a lot, when I read it, of atheist H.L. Mencken's 1916 "stage
direction" of a wedding in an upper-middle-class church, which I'd
just recently re-read. It also reminded me of the agnostic Czech-English
Cambridge University social philosopher Ernest Gellner's somewhat
acidulous view of modern Western liberal religion, and of the English
"Fortean" researcher Hilary Evans' placing of modern "New
Age" cults and gurus in the context of declining religious orthodox
belief.
Back in 1916, Mencken published a gently
satiric "stage direction" for a wedding in a church in a
"well-to-do but not quite fashionable" upper-middle-class
neighborhood of businessmen, professionals, and their wives in a
moderately large American city. The church was "Protestant in faith
and probably Episcopalian." The "estimable wives" of its
congregation's "well-to-do but not fashionable" businessmen,
lawyers, and doctors were "pious in habit but somewhat nebulous in
faith." This meant that "they regard any person who specifically
refuses to go to church as a heathen, but they themselves are by no means
regular in attendance, and not one in ten could tell you whether
transubstantiation is a Roman Catholic or a Dunkard doctrine"[H.L.
Mencken,. "The Wedding: A Stage Direction," from H.L. Mencken, A
Book of Burlesques (Alfred A. Knopf/J. Lane, 1916), reprinted in E.B.
White and Katharine S. White, eds., A Subtreasury of American Humor(New
York: Coward-McCann, Inc., 1941), pp. 365-373, on p. 366]
I've been reminded of Mencken's
observations on "somewhat nebulous" faith by remarks on
doctrinally vague modern religion both by the Cambridge University
philosopher and social anthropologist Ernest Gellner and by the English
"Fortean" researcher Hilary Evans. Both Evans and Gellner saw
much contemporary Western religious observance as an expression far more
of social conformity, cultural loyalty, and sentimental attachment to
tradition than of deep theological conviction or clear theologicaol
understanding. Gellner described religious fundamentalism as a repudiation
of what he saw as the "doctrinal vacuity" of modern liberal
theology in Postmodernism, Reason, and Religion (1992). Evans
placed modern "New Age" UFO cults and gurus in the context of
declining orthodox Judaeo-Christian religious faith in a 2000/2001 ANOMALIST
article on "Do-It-Yourself Deities and Mail-Order Messiahs."
Since the 17th century, Evans noted, the
"unquestioning view" in the universality of religion as a
"basic fact of human existence" that "distinguishes man
from the beasts" has been "progressively weakened." It was
"socially discreditable" until "quite recent times" to
"proclaim disbelief," which it "still indeed is in many
communities." However, a "substantial proportion" of people
nowadays "affirm a total rejection of any orthodox belief."
Moreover, "of those who continue to label themselves ^ÑChristians'
or whatever" (e.g., Jews, Muslims, Hindus, or Buddhists depending on
one's cultural background), it is "clear" that "many are no
more than nominal believers who for social or psychological, rather than
spiritual, reasons are unwilling to make a final rejection" (Hilary
Evans, "Do-It- Yourself Deities and Mail-Order Messiahs," The
Anomalist, No. 9, Winter 2000/2001, pp. 14-39, on p.17).
That is, such nominal believers are afraid
of the social stigma of being labeled "heathens,"
"unbelievers," or "atheists," the annoyance of being
pestered by well-meaning relatives, friends, clergy, or evangelists trying
to "save" them or "bring them back in the fold," or
the bleak psychological chill of completely, formally cutting themselves
off from cherished customs, ceremonies, and traditions. Many Catholics,
Protestants, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, or Buddhists who have abandoned the
theology and the sexual, dietary, alcoholic, or Sabbatarian restrictions
still cherish warm, nostalgic childhood and adolescent memories of
religious holidays, religion-related family celebrations, candles, hymns,
organ music, stained glass, incense, "smells and bells,"
Christmas trees or Chanukah menorahs and dreidls, and familiar well-loved
Bible, Torah, Qur'ân, or Book of Common Prayer verses, passages, and
stories. They feel very reluctant to abandon these along with the dogma or
mythology and the prohibitions on birth control, abortion, divorce, pork,
beef, liquor, tobacco, Saturday work, Sunday amusements, homosexuality, or
sexual intercourse with a menstruating woman..For all these
reasons--nostalgia, fear of social stigma as "unbelievers," and
dislike of meddlesome do-gooders trying to "save" them--they
find it socially and psychologically useful and comfortable to maintain a
connection with their ancestral religious communities, and to continue
attending or even officiating at ceremonies and rituals, while maintaining
a discreet, polite ambiguity about their exact actual beliefs. They may
privately re-interpret ancient theological, credal, or ritual formulae as
metaphoric expressions in quaintly archaic poetic or mythic language of
some form of Deism, Spinozism, Kantianism, Neo-Hegelian Absolute Idealism,
Emersonian Transcendentalism, Ethical Culture, Heideggerian
Existentialism, or New Ageism--maybe just a vague, optimistic belief in a
Life-Force or Oversoul slowly but surely working for the eventual triumph
of truth, beauty, goodness, and justice. Like Mencken's 1916
"estimable wives," they do not want to be "heathens"
who specifically refuse to go to church, synagogue, or mosque, but also
are quite happy and even eager to be "somewhat nebulous in
faith" with little interest in pedantic hair-splitting doctrinal
niceties.
Of "those who abandon traditional
religions," Hilary Evans continued, "some reject religion
altogether, becoming agnostics or atheists." Others, however,
"turn to alternative faiths"--whether to other major traditional
religions, or to modern "New Age," Spiritualist, Theosophist,
and occult beliefs. "Publicized cases occur of prominent converts
from Protestant to Catholic Christianity, from Christianity to Judaism or
Islam, and so forth," Evans noted, but he felt that "it is their
rarity that makes them notable" (Evans, "Do-It- Yourself Deities
and Mail-Order Messiahs," p. 17). Evans then devoted the rest of his
article to people who turn from Christianity or Judaism not to Islâm or
Buddhism but to "New Age" beliefs and especially to UFO cults
proclaiming the world's salvation by benevolent saucer-borne "Space
Brothers."
Both Mencken and Evans remind me of some
observations about modern religion by Ernest Gellner in Postmodernism,
Reason and Religion (London and New York:Routledge, 1992). Like
Mencken and Evans, Gellner took a somewhat bemused, slightly ironic view
of the "doctrinal vacuity" of modern bourgeois nominal believers
nebulous in faith and unwilling to make a final rejection for social or
psychological rather than spiritual reasons. Gellner felt that religious
fundamentalism--by which he largely meant Muslim fundamentalism in most of
his book--was "best understood" as a rejection of the
"widespread modern idea" that "religion, though endowed
with some kind of specified validity of its own, really doesn't mean what
it actually says, and least of all what ordinary people had in the past
naturally taken it to mean." What religion "really means,"
according to the "modernism" rejected by fundamentalists, was
something "radically different from what its unsophisticated
adherents had previously taken it to mean," and "far removed
from the natural interpretation of the claims of the faith in
question." Fundamentalism repudiated the "tolerant modernist
claim" that the "faith in question" meant "something
much milder, far less exclusive, altogether less demanding and much more
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