Church Number 13: Unity Temple
This is one of the most famous churches in Chicago, thanks to the fact that it was designed by architect Frank Lloyd Wright. In fact, it is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
The congregation (of what was called Unity Church) was founded in 1871, but they did not finish their Oak Park building until 1872. The building missed the Chicago fire by a year, but it was also outside of the area impacted by the fire. However, that doesn’t mean it was not at risk.
In 1905, the spire was hit by lightning, and the entire church burned down.
But I get ahead of myself.
According to the church website, the original congregation “consisted of liberal-minded individuals who purposely remained free of institutional affiliation.” But it is confusing as to its denomination. I assume it was part of the Universalist Church of America, which was founded in 1793. The foundation of Universalism is the belief that everyone will receive salvation.
Universalists were one of the first groups to advocate for abolition, and it was the first church to ordain women.
So it should come as no surprise that a woman served as the church’s pastor from 1886 to 1891. Her name was Augusta Chapin (who was a Universalist), and she was an old friend of Frank Lloyd Wright’s mother, Anna Jones Wright. In fact, for a time, the Wrights lived with her in Oak Park.
Frank’s father’s side of the family were also Universalists. His father, William Carey Wright, was a preacher, composer, and artist. However, his mother’s side were Welsh Unitarians, and his uncle Jenkin Lloyd Jones was well-known on the south side of Chicago where he was a pastor to a Unitarian parish there (The American Unitarian Association was founded in 1825.). And Frank identified with Unitarians.
The Unitarians rejected the Trinity and believed in the unity of one God. They also based the religion not on a creed (a formal statement of the faith, such as the Apostles' Creed or the Nicene Creed, which has been recited in many of the churches I’ve visited) but rather on reason, which they felt was necessary to understanding the Bible. And they viewed human nature as hopeful, rejecting the idea of original sin. They were also influenced by Ralph Waldo Emerson’s ideas of transcendentalism, which believed in the unity of all creation, knowledge via intuition, and God’s presence in every person and in nature.
For nearly a century, people had proposed a merging of the Unitarians and the Universalists into the Unitarian Universalist Association, but it took until 1961 for this to finally happen. Both churches were struggling, and the merger would help sustain them both. Even though they each had a different emphasis, they both are considered a free faith (liberal) without a creed.
One difference included the fact that Unitarians were typically upper-middle class and the Universalists from rural areas and less educated. As a result, Unitarian services were more intellectual and Universalists’ were more emotional. The church also does not participate in baptism, communion, or confirmation. And indeed, there was no communion when I attended.
But back to when the church burned down in 1905. Frank Lloyd Wright immediately offered his services to rebuild the church, which was completed in 1908.
Ayn Rand admired Frank Lloyd Wright and based Howard Roark in The Fountainhead partially on him. In the novel, Roark designs a church that is unconventional and controversial, much like Wright’s Unity Temple was, as it differed from traditional religious architecture.
Here, Peter Keating, the exact opposite of Howard Roark, asks this:
"Do you always have to have a purpose? Do you always have to be so damn serious? Can't you ever do things without reason, just like everybody else? You're so serious, so old. Everything's important with you. Everything's great, significant in some way, every minute, even when you keep still. Can't you ever be comfortable-and unimportant?"
Roark’s response is "No."
And here is what Wright has to say about his designs:
"Every radical departure from the customary must make its appeal to reason to determine its worth and truth. Without good reason we should not depart from the customary. Especially is this true in regard to things sacred. But if the change is governed by sound reason, it compels an adjustment of thought."
In comparison, here is another relevant quote from Howard Roark: “A building has integrity, just as a man and just as seldom! It must be true to its own idea, have its own form, and serve its own purpose!”
Indeed, Unity Temple is very different from other, contemporary churches, both in form and in materials. It is designed in what is called Prairie Style, which Wright said is meant to be “married to the ground.” It mimics the landscape of the Midwest, with emphasis on horizontal, not vertical lines. And the primary material is concrete.
Roark’s Temple of the Human Spirit was “to be a small building of gray limestone. Its lines were horizontal, not the lines reaching to heaven, but the lines of the earth.”
The Unity Temple has a sign above the entrance that states, “For the worship of God and the service of man.”
Rather than try to describe the inside, I am going to rely on The Chicago Architectural Center to do it for me.
“Guests pass through a low-ceilinged foyer before entering the sanctuary, where they are bathed in honey-colored light from coffered art glass skylights. This use of tighter, low-ceilinged “compression” moments followed immediately by large open spaces that provide a “release,” was another common spatial technique Wright used to heighten the drama for visitors discovering a space. Although the main ceilings are high, the space is intimate, offering seating for 400 congregants on three levels. And unlike a traditional worship space where the congregation all faces the same direction, the square sanctuary at Unity Temple has three levels and allows a more democratic space where everyone has sight-lines to everyone else.”
And no seat is further than 40 feet from the pulpit.
I had done no research when I attended this church, so I had no idea what to expect. And I was very confused! The lobby was a very small space, and people were gathered in there chatting. To the side was a large stand holding name tags already filled out. I guess each member had his or her own name tag. But I had no idea where to go. It wasn’t clear where the sanctuary was.
I saw a woman go down into what looked like a tunnel, so I followed her. I found myself in a small room with a low ceiling with people who were clearly in the choir. Nervously, I backed out and returned to the foyer. I tried the other side where tiny, narrow stairs led down and again I felt like I was in a small room with a pew. But this time, I continued on to the stairs that went up at the other end. That took me to the sanctuary (actually, those pews that felt like I was in a room under ground was part of the sanctuary!). The place was multi-leveled on each side, with each level containing four rows of pews. And I may not be very familiar with Frank Lloyd Wright, but this was obviously a Frank Lloyd Wright.
Also of note, there was zero religious iconography anywhere in the building.
A black man was in the front dressed in African garb, playing a djembe drum, and chanting. People in the congregation were responding and clapping throughout.
As the service started, a little girl went to the front to light a “chalice.” The reverend introduced her as she did so, letting us know that she likes bunnies. Hmmmm. Ok.
Then the congregation joined the reverend in saying the following: “We are the Universal Unitarians. This is the church of the open minds, loving hearts, and helping hands. We take care of the planet earth and each other.”
This proclamation was accompanied by all kinds of childish hand movements. But also curious, in my history of the religion, one of the elements it had was no creed. This almost sounds like a creed. But whatever.
The choir entered and filled the front. A piano played what sounded like traditional church music, and the choir - donned in brown, green, and orange plaid scarves - was fantastic.
A woman with purple hair who was on the Spiritual Care team got up from her pew to speak. She was difficult to listen to. For one, her voice was so airy and soft. It almost sounded condescending. For another, she spoke in continuous cliches: “... have heart-centered communication,” “... show up for ourselves in unique ways.”
She then read some joys and sorrows that people had previously shared. But, she told us, “some of your joys and sorrows might be too tender to share. If so, come forward and drop a pebble [from a stack] into water [in a goldfish bowl].”
A soloist sang during this. Most of the congregation lined up to drop a pebble into the water. One woman literally scooped up a pile of pebbles and dumped them in. I guess she was going through a hard time!
Next came storytime for the kids, who gathered around one of Rev. Emily (who uses she/her pronouns - no kidding). She wore a rainbow scarf over her robe. And she read to the children the book I Can Do Hard Things. The book was ridiculous. All I can remember is a lot about feeling your feelings.
When it was over and time for the kids to leave for what I presume was Sunday school, the congregation first sang a song to the children, again with hand movements.
May your mind be open to new learning.
May your words bring truth into the world.
May your heart know love,
And your hands do the work of justice.
As you go your way, as you go your way.
As you go your way, as you go your way in peace.
It felt like we were elementary school teachers.
Next came a speaker who told a story. Not surprisingly, it felt like he was talking to children, despite the fact that all of the children had left. His cadence, his vocabulary, and the slow speed in which he spoke was so juvenile. It was really off putting because it felt like he was talking down to me. He told the story of Takuji Yameshita, who was from Japan and was not allowed to join the bar after law school because he wasn’t white. He also wasn’t allowed citizenship. Then he was interned during WWII. I suppose the point of the story was that he did hard work…
The choir then sang a Zulu song, Ngothando.The audience loved it, clapping, swaying, and cheering.
TIme for the sermon, which was delivered by a different pastor, one donning a rainbow dress. The theme of the sermon was, no surprise, “You Can Do Hard Things.” I thought it was interesting that the sermon was structured around this children’s book rather than a Gospel reading as in most churches.
It’s difficult when things don’t work out, she told us. It’s difficult to feel our feelings. But, she said, we must feel our feelings. We can feel our feelings. We can ask for help.
Then she asked us to think of a time we felt discomfort. Maybe our heart was fluttering really fast. But we must remember that “hard things are a freakin’ growth opportunity.” Yes, a freakin’ growth opportunity.
Doing things is really hard.
Then came the research part, where she referenced other texts.
Joseph Campbell - says hard things, challenges, are necessary for the hero’s journey
Lord of the RIngs - example
Glennon Doyle had a progressive Christian woman on his podcast. She wrote the book Untamed, about having three kids when she got divorced and fell in love with another woman.
The Matrix - example
Personal example. She explained that she herself has children and that when she praises them, she says “You worked so hard on that” rather than saying “Good job.”
She then acknowledged that this congregation was undergoing a lot of change in personnel. And this is hard.
Doing things is really hard. Honestly, I can’t tell you how many times she repeated this sentence in this sermon. I don’t even know what this means.
She ended with this: “Hard things? They’re hard.”
Ah. Brilliant (sorry for the snark).
How to do hard things? With love. You can feel all your feelings.
And finally: “Hang in there. You are working so hard, I’m proud of you.”
Oh please.
Basically, this was an explication of the children’s book. It was juvenile, pedestrian. If this were a research paper turned in for one of my college English classes, it would receive a good grade for organization and use of sources, but it was so damn vague, so full of generalities and cliches that it basically said nothing. My comment would be “Be more specific!”
The only thing left was the offering. Apparently the church donates to a different organization each week. This week, the recipient was DRUUMM (Diverse & Revolutionary Unitarian Universalist Multicultural Ministries). A self-describe BIPOC speaker from the organization to gave us her sales pitch. Her main selling point was that this organization is especially important in America today because people are threatening to eliminate diverse voices and the right to vote.
And good news! You can donate on their website, through a QR code, or they accept cash or checks.
The chalice was extinguished and then the final song was “Draw the Circle Wider,” and everyone clapped together over their heads.
In conclusion, the whole service felt so condescending and cliche. And confusing. Was this New Age? What was the point? How is this religious? No Bible, no prayers, no religious iconography. No mention of Jesus or God. I guess the epitome of “spiritual” stereotypes.
When walking out, a man and woman were behind me. The man asked her, “What’d you think?” The woman answered, “Well, it’s not for me.”
Agree!
Next week: The Moody Church, another famous Chicago church
If you enjoyed this post, you can support my writing by leaving a tip or a custom donation. Just click on the button below. Thanks for your support!