Bereft

orbatus

'bereft'

So a couple of weeks ago I went to visit my sister in Pennsylvania. Her digs there are awesome - absolutely 100% fabulous. She lives out in rural Central PA hill country, and to get to or from her house you have to go up and down these steep, winding, contorted roads. Absolutely fabulous. There are hidden treasures everywhere; we'd be driving along and all of a sudden would happen on homes that had been there since before the Civil War (she was married in a Revolutionary War era mansion that's not far from where she lives now). You just don't find things like that around Chicago! We found this old abandoned house on the first day of my visit, as she was driving us home from the train station in Harrisburg. She said that it's been abandoned for a while, and the roof and other wood structures were destroyed by fire a few years back - she remembers the fire; they had the road all blocked up when they were putting it out. It's for sale now. I hope whoever buys it does so for the house as much as the surrounding property - perhaps there's something worth salvaging there. There were signs on the doors advising against trespassers, and all the ground level windows were boarded up, so entry wouldn't have been easy. Rest assured, if my ankle hadn't been sprained at the time and the size of a balloon (I had a hard time just walking around it and getting the photos that I did), I'd have found a way in, and there'd be some excellent photos of the full moon through some of those blasted out windows. But alas, that wasn't to be. Oh well, things to look forward to on future visits!

oculus nitens

'bright eye'

trajectory

vesperascit

'evening descends'

hebite luce

'as the light dies down'

iuxta marginem

'on the verge'

casus

'falling'

relinctus

'abandoned'

primus lapis

'cornerstone'

incrementum

'growth'

Awake, O Sleeper!

I've been sleepy these last couple of weeks. I really don't know why. When I wake up in the morning, I have something to eat and then go back to bed. Then I'll nap a couple of times during the day. After that I go to bed and sleep the whole night through. I can't seem to sleep enough. This afternoon as I was contemplating yet another nap (it would have been my second), I felt an inexorable call to the sunlight. And so I arose from my bed and stepped out into the light. I am always amazed at God's presence in nature. It's as if, in it, He is calling us all back to Him. His natural revelation is a conviction to the unbeliever, revealing His presence and the folly that is a life without Him; but for the believer, it's a reminder of life and rebirth, a reminder to slow down, lie back, and watch the clouds float overhead. God is everywhere in His creation. Perhaps if I spend more time with Him there, I will sleep less.

awake, o sleeper

awake, o sleeper,
and rise from your dreary slumber.
arise, o dreamer
from the paste-thin walls of its gossamer web.
the sun has arisen,
and in the shadows cast by his beams
dwells a truth much deeper
and richer
and full of life
than that which is found in the
light-bathed glades
of your temporary world.

umbra

after the rain

This little glade is on a small, sylvan island called Spider Island on the outskirts of the garden. My friend M. and I had a very bad experience there one evening last summer which led us to call it 'Hooker Island' (don't ask!) ever after. Needless to say, I've avoided it since. Today I ventured back onto it, and laid down on one of the stones in the middle of this little glade. The clouds floated by (and every now and then a plane, too, reminding me of where I really was) and so did the time. It was so secluded and comfortable, and the little insects serenaded me with a private symphony that was rich with tonic variants.

nubem

leaving

sleeper

Apparently I'm not the only one who's sleepy in the afternoon, as I found this little paddle of female ducks hanging out near the water garden and the bridge to Evening Island (where the ducks tend to hang out) in various states of repose. I think they were enjoying the warm flagstones more than anything. I love the ducks. Inevitably , if you sit there long enough, they'll walk right up to you. They all seem to know that they're completely safe at the Garden, and no one ever hassles them.

resting

safe

Waiting for the Metra

One day this winter I was downtown waiting for the Metra and I took some fun photos of the city. I'm avoiding doing some homework now, so here they are.

We'll start with the least interesting one first. It's a bronze spigot. Oh well. It was interesting to me at the time. I suppose I should say something arty like, "look at the line," or, "the burnishing around the lip just gives it fabulous texture, darling," but... nope... I've got nothing.

spigot

I'll start at the corner of this street here and work my way out. I just like angles of things. Angles and lines. I liked the clean and imposing lines of this utilitarian sandstone building. The purple monstrosity next to it is the City Center Hotel, and no, it's not really purple, they're just sparkin' her up that way for yucks.

angulus

The view looking down Adams St toward the City Center.

on & on

Where Angels Once Sang...

This past weekend I took a little trip out to Gary, Indiana to take some photos of an old abandoned church there. It's called City Methodist Church, and at one time it thrived with an attendance of around 1,000 people. Over time, the city of Gary declined, and so did the church, until it was finally abandoned in the 1980's. It stood, empty but mostly intact, until the great Gary Arson of 1997, which gutted the building and left it the shell that it is today. You can still see the stains of soot and the tracks of the flame in many areas of the ruins. I'll post some photos here today, but will continue to add to them, as I hope this will not be my last trip out to Gary.

This building reminds me that, while God is eternal, we are but weak and fleshly creatures. Our monuments and dwellings here on this earth will perish, but God's sovereignty still speaks through our weakness. The walls of City Methodist Church whisper to me of an ephemeral longing to be one with God. Though it is but a crumbling shell, there is still beauty there, and if you listen closely enough, I think you can still hear the voices of those who were there before. So on a bleak, grey day, as the wind and cold chilled me to the bone, I stepped off the streets of the Gary ghetto and onto a hallowed ground where angels once sang. I hope that you will hear their voices still in my photos.

abitus
(the way out)

This and the following shot are very similar. This faces toward the back of the sanctuary and the church's main entrance.

long bleak winter

Though similar to the abitus shot, I think this view captures something a little darker. It captures the largesse of what was once a very grand structure and the bleak abandonment of it all today.

last performance

The church and its sanctuary are only one part of the larger City Methodist Church complex. On the north side of the property, attached to the church, is the church school. This is the the auditorium and what's left of the mezzanine seating. I stood on the stage to take this photo, and under my feet were layers and layers of old clothing, presumably the bedding of vagrants who seek shelter here. Through the back door under the balcony, you can see all the way into the church's sanctuary.

dusting

I actually crawled into the building through a hole in the back wall, which led into the nether regions back stage in the auditorium. Had I walked around the corner, I might have seen this entrance, which wasn't fenced in and was readily accessible from the street. You can see by the footprints in the snow that I was not the only one who'd been in the building recently, though I didn't encounter anyone else on my visit. This is part of the building linking the church and school together. To my right is the school auditorium and to my left is the church.

frosted

I've seen photos of this fireplace during the days of the church's inception. It was once quite grand and ornate, a white marble and oak paneled hallmark of comfort. Now you can see that the mantle piece is cracked right in the middle, quite a precarious situation! However, it still carries shades of its former grandeur. Notice the little patch of snow in front of the debris and window.

non adhibitus
(uninvited)

This fireplace is what's left of what appeared to be a once very impressive room retiring off of the main sanctuary. You can see fire damage on the imposing paneling over the mantle. The picture quality here is a bit grainy.

once

Much of the beautiful stained glass remains intact in the top portions of the sanctuary windows. The city has put up sturdy plexiglass-type sheeting over the outside of the windows, presumably to keep vandals from knocking the rest of it out.

et capellae angelorum  cantaverunt
(and choirs of angels sang)

Both of the mezzanine choir lofts still remain suspended at the front of the sanctuary, though  they don't look too sturdy.

tower of bells

I looked straight up from the front of the sanctuary and could see almost to the top of the bell tower through the holes in its aging floors.

sanctus
(sanctuary)

This faces toward the front of the sanctuary, where the altar would have been. How beautiful it looks, even in its emptiness, with the late afternoon sun streaming in!

dissuetus
(forgotten)

side entrance

A view of one of the bell tower windows through the roof of the sanctuary.

centrum
(centered)

A door underneath the north choir loft offers a view of the ornate fireplace.

nigris evanescet
(fades to black)

Windows overlooking the street from under the south choir loft.

bleak turn

ossea
(skeleton, or bones)

The south side of the sanctuary. These windows overlook the south choir loft into the area where the altar once was.

where once we lived

forgotten face

This church lies forgotten in the heart of Gary, Indiana. By today's standards it would have been a prototypical mega-church. We, every one of us in our cozy congregations, must ask ourselves how a church so grand and thriving can simply disappear. The things of men are but dust, and we all face the inevitability that we are like dry grass in the wind. It is God who makes a church, who brings His people together to gather in His name. And it is by His name that we will stand. My prayer for anyone who reads this today is that we remember the lessons of City Methodist Church, even if only for sparse bits at a time. Don't follow a pastor or go into a building to worship. Meet with God wherever you are today and let Him renew your soul and lift you up within the shelter of His wings. But for the grace of God, we all may face the fate of this beautiful but crumbling structure.