Logos Dei Community Church

I

n 1991 my wife and I were sent by The Salvation Army to St. Petersburg, Russia to plant churches. This enchanting city is a treasure trove of architectural wonder. One of the first truly planned cities, Petersburg was constructed in the early 1700’s at great human cost. It was imposed by the will of Peter the Great on the swampland of the northeast corner of the Russian empire, as a bulwark against the major military threat of the day (Sweden) and a “window to the West”.

Peter’s new capital was to be a monument. In addition to Russian architects such as Mikhail Zemtsov and Ivan Korobov, Peter invited western European masters such as Domenico Trezzini, Bartolommeo Rastrelli and August Montferrand to help create a wonderland of Baroque magnificence. The resulting architectural masterpieces such as Smolny Cathedral, the Peter and Paul Cathedral, The Winter Palace & Hermitage, St. Isaacs Cathedral, Alexander Nevsky Cathedral, Kazan Cathedral, the Menshikov Palace and the Kunstkammer. All stand to this day.

Three years in St. Petersburg were followed by a further six years in the south of Russia. I watched as perestroika took hold and the old order fell apart. Everything changed. It was a time of upheaval and exhilaration, of chaos and confusion. It seemed sometimes as if only those grand old palaces and churches would remain constant and unchanging in the bizarre crucible that was Russia during the 1990’s.

It seemed sometimes as if only those grand old palaces and churches would remain constant and unchanging in the bizarre crucible that was Russia during the 1990’s.

I developed a mild fixation on buildings while living in St. Petersburg. We needed a building in which to house our growing congregation, in which to create relevant programs, out of which to evangelize and teach and disciple. Buildings in general became a focal point of effort for me. I worked, planned and prayed to get my hands on a permanent structure.

However, as a Protestant missionary in this newly revived Russian Orthodox post-Soviet milieu, I simply could not get a building for any length of time, especially for holding Sunday church services. I rented space in all sorts of buildings, most often in the ubiquitous, Soviet-era Cultural Palaces which were a sort of secular church building containing numerous activity rooms and halls for rental. The reality, however, consisted on ever-present threats of being kicked out at short notice or of showing up for a service to meet a locked hall and a truculent doorman. Contracts were generally not worth the paper they were printed on and there was constant pressure from the authorities not to place their buildings - the State still owned everything - at our disposal.

However, as a Protestant missionary in this newly revived Russian Orthodox post-Soviet milieu, I simply could not get a building for any length of time, especially for holding Sunday church services.

Because of this, I suppose, I took notice of buildings more than ever before. They were something I could no longer take for granted. I took a “professional interest” in architecture. In the midst of the chaos of a crumbling empire, I needed to somehow bring order and structure to my world. It was a volatile time when nobody was playing by any rules that I could comprehend. I was drawn to the safety of a building - my people and I needed a sanctuary.

I have never found that building. In 16 years of ministry, mostly church planting, I’ve had my own building to worship in for about 10 months.

In Genesis we are told that in the beginning: “The earth was without form, and void…” When God spoke he brought order out of chaos, and imposed structure on that which was formless. Surely this is the architect’s art and looking back at that time in Russia, I suppose this impulse is what kindled my interest in architecture.

Church historians tell us that for the first two hundred years in the life the church, believers met in homes and there was no such thing as a church building. Once it started, however, there seemed to be no stopping it: from revamped pagan temples (once Constantine came on board) to the soaring Cathedrals of the middle ages, faith has been the inspiration for more architectural endeavour than any force in history.

…from revamped pagan temples (once Constantine came on board) to the soaring Cathedrals of the middle ages, faith has been the inspiration for more architectural endeavour than any force in history.

For years now the church has had a love affair with bricks and mortar. We have understood church as a place we attend, in spite of knowing the Biblical ideal of it as God’s people living in community. Jesus had “no place to lay his head” and commissioned his disciples to go out (Matthew 28:18-20). Yet, the church’s efforts in the world have been more focused on inviting people to come to our buildings, and hence come into our culture and our world.

As the grip of modernism has loosened and we experience the ascendancy of post-modernity, the importance of building space for church as decreased. Interest in architecture is pretty much non-existent in the Christian (evangelical) sensibility. The dream of creating order out of chaos or giving structure to a void, of housing a people. I do not think I’ve ever heard a young person say that they want to be an architect and that this might be God’s calling for them.

I do not think I’ve ever heard a young person say that they want to be an architect and that this might be God’s calling for them.

Yet, post-modernism aside, we spend most of our lives in buildings, designed and built by architects. We live in houses or apartments or condominiums or shelters; most of us work in buildings; we work out in gyms; we watch films in theatres or go to art galleries or visit the opera house; we shop for food in buildings; we holiday in hotels; when ill or injured we go to the clinic or hospital; buildings are everywhere…as important as they’ve ever been. Competitions are held for architects to redesign Ground Zero in New York, much excitement is stirred up over the new MOMA in New York.

Public space, private space, sacred space is being “created” and structured everywhere we look. Everywhere, that is, except in the church. Have we missed the boat again?

Co-Founder and Co-Editor of theRubicon and Co-Ordinator of the 614 Network, Geoff and his wife Sandra hold Sunday services for Corps 614 Regent Park in a community centre whose best feature is its location at the centre of the community.

NOTES

*Originally published in ChristianWeek Magazine, as part of the Iona Diaries series.

Posted on Friday, July 7th, 2006.