UPDATE 2 (Friday): Pictures are working? They'll be coming up as Blogger allows...
UPDATE: I'm having trouble posting my images. Blogger is refusing to upload anything. I've got the one of First Baptist, but there are more. The writing is complete and does not necessarily need the images to be effective. I'll post the images ASAP.
First Baptist Church, Winston Salem
A tower strikes itself skyward, reaching for the air above the trees. At its peak is a cross, two perpendicular lines form the fingers of the hand grasping for heaven. It is perched atop an elaborate stone building, large and imposing. Columns flank the heavy wood doors that form its entrance. This church, capped with its steeple, is a place of Christian worship. It is a place for spirituality and fellowship. Yes, believe it or not, behind this looming structure, through its heavy hardwood doors, people who do not know each other are welcomed one and all to worship the Christian God. In this intimidating and imposing building, people come together in fellowship.
I hate churches. I do not consider myself a religious person and therefore do not find myself in churches very often, but when I do, I feel intimidated and uncomfortable. My discomfort begins even before I am inside the building. The building itself makes me uncomfortable. Why? Well, let’s say I’m driving down the road toward a church. What part of the building will I probably see first? The steeple. It’s a glorified Golden Arches. It’s an elaborate advertisement. A billboard guiding me to whatever services it is hawking. In the same way that a lot of people see a McDonald’s sign and get disgusted (or at least disinterested), I see a cross atop a steeple and want to stay away. So religious or not, the steeple has affected me in some way. I’m driven away from it, and consequently the church. Others are attracted to it. So is that the intention of the steeple? It seems logical. But is it factual? I decided to find out the history (and hopefully in turn, the original intention) of steeples.
Well, first thing’s first. What actually defines a steeple? Turns out, I hadn’t been intimidated by steeples on these churches, but spires, which sit atop steeples. The American Heritage Dictionary clarifies that a steeple is “a tall tower forming the superstructure of a building, such as a church or temple, and usually surmounted by a spire.” So it would seem that the spire is what everyone sees from off in the distance. The steeple is the structure that holds it up. Interestingly, steeples often had a functional purpose as well. The tapered pyramid shape of a spire/steeple combination was the optimum structure to hold the weight of the hanging church bells.
Steeples originated from a combination of elements. First was practical. In feudal European society, churches were often the center of towns. Bells were used to communicate to the town for services or to warn of danger. In addition, the public buildings in these towns were often fortified in case of attack. The needs for a place to hang bells for communication and for a fortified tower worked symbiotically, and the steeple was born. Second was aesthetic. The Roman Catholics embraced the architecture of upward-facing steeples to inspire worshippers and make them feel a sense of awe. With the development of Gothic architecture, sharp points became an element of architectural design, and the spires of church steeples fit right in with that aesthetic.
Strasbourg: characteristic for only having one steeple
at a time when Northern European churches had two.
Eventually this steeple style evolved, finding new footing in London in the 1600s when two churches were remodeled after the devastation of the Great Fire of London in 1666. It was at this point that the steeple became a fundamental part of church construction. With the settling of America, European immigrants that were fleeing religious oppression initially balked at the idea of grandiose churches with elaborate architecture, especially steeples. Early American churches are simple buildings built simply as meeting places. But with the influx of more immigrants from various economic and religious backgrounds, ornamental architecture in churches found its way to the new continent. Now steeples reach for the sky all across North America. There are a decent number of them in Winston-Salem.
I was most interested in one particular church in Winston-Salem, and I sought it out first. The First Baptist Church on 5th Street downtown is an imposing structure, much larger than I had expected. I drive past it occasionally and never really took the time to concentrate on it and analyze it. But with spending time thinking about it, the church is actually quite large, comprising multiple connected buildings. It was no wonder to me then that I felt uncomfortable as I approached the church. It’s not particularly welcoming. The façade of the building feels more like some kind of Roman municipal building than a warm and inviting place of worship. The Corinthian columns at the entrance stand atop sharp stone stairs and flank a heavy, dark, and large wooden door.
I also photographed two other churches in Winston-Salem which were quite different from the First Baptist Church. The Reynolda Presbyterian Church and St. Paul’s Episcopal were both notable in their design. Reynolda Presbyterian is somewhat traditional, with stained glass windows in the sanctuary and a spire perched atop a steeple. But something about the design of the building is more comfortable than the Baptist church. I still feel uncomfortable around the building, but it is definitely less intimidating. In contrast, St. Paul’s Episcopal has no spire, but it does have a large steeple. The construction style of the church makes it appear more as a fortress atop a hill than a place of warm fellowship and community. However, I was struck by the stone construction. The stones are natural; they’re elements of the world around us. They make me think of Mother Nature. Consequently the church blends in more to the natural surroundings. The landscaping of the land around the church helps to amplify this illusion. It makes this chuch feel much more welcoming than the cold and stoic design of the uniformly plain marble on the First Baptist Church.
Should I ever feel the desire to worship in a religious building of some kind, I have a feeling that I will steer clear of a building like the First Baptist Church on 5th Street in downtown Winston-Salem. I like the more casual appeal of the Reynolda Presbyterian Church, but I also like the stone construction of St. Paul’s Episcopal. However, the design of churches in general is discomforting to me. In researching the history of the steeple and the spire, I learned a lot about why churches were designed the way they were. It seems logical that a religious body based around one deity would want to inspire some sense of emotion in worshippers, and the Christian church has always clung to the idea of awe and wonder in association with their deity. Therefore their churches were designed to make worshippers feel such things. In my mind, however, I cannot help but think that the “awe” these structures were intended to inspire in worshippers runs parallel to the intimidation felt by enemies of the church or of other religions. I see this idea every time I see a church. An ideal worship space would have to be much more open and welcoming in its design. No intention of intimidation should ever have been contemplated during its design and construction. Unfortunately this intention seems to have been the case in the past for Christian churches, and it has permeated the design of Christian worship spaces for centuries.
I am indebted to a couple of sources for research on this posting/midterm. I found a rather fantastic article on the history of steeples, but unfortunately the website does not list an author so I do not know who wrote it. Also, wikipedia was a great source of background knowledge and a great jumping-off point for further exploration.
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