Never one to pass on an opportunity to mix business with pleasure, while traveling in Germany recently I visited the German village of Schwäbisch Hall. A quintessential German mountain town nearly 875 years old, it features narrow, winding cobblestone streets and half-timbered construction in many of the shops and dwellings.
It also features a unique market plaza anchored on the east by an historic cathedral, St. Michael’s Church. Constructed by Roman Catholics prior to Luther, in the 1520s the congregation followed the Reformation theology of its pastor, Johannes Brenz, a colleague of Martin Luther, into the ranks of Protestantism.
Jim White
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Following the sound of hand-clapping, I happened upon the rehearsal of Anton Chekov’s The Cherry Orchard. The play would be performed later that evening on the steps of the old church. A proud English-speaking citizen provided details.
It seems that at some point in its history, someone discovered that a person speaking from any of the 53 steps leading from the square to the main entrance of the church could be heard anywhere in the square. Perhaps it was a confidential prayer request spoken to the minister after church one Sunday that led to that discovery, I don’t know.
The congregation of St. Michael’s prepares for a performance of "The Cherry Orchard."
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As it turns out, the slope of the square and the buildings around it create a unique acoustical effect. Opposite the church is the elegant town hall (Rathaus) with its commanding clock tower. To the right and left of the church, rows of shops and houses create an amphitheater.
This acoustical uniqueness was for many years simply an oddity. But one day someone asked how this uniqueness might find ministerial purpose.
Using this phenomenon to its advantage, the church instituted a summer theater festival. Each evening, Monday through Friday, a popular play is performed by members of the community.
Not only has the festival established bonds of good will between the church and the community, but ticket sales and the shopping of crowds gathered have created an economic boon.
I found myself reflecting on the significance of history and the place of the arts. Part of my reflection on the arts centered on the work of at least two new church starts in Virginia. All Souls Church in Charlottesville is loosely connected with an attempt to provide space for emerging artists to share their work. Whether they are painters or poets, sculptors or songwriters, they have a place to display their talents.
Not only does this make good sense as a means of connecting to the community, but the arts add to the quality of our culture. In addition to the message of hope declared from pulpits, the church can also find other ways to add beauty and inspiration to life.
In Lisa Cole Hawkins, pastor of Convergence Church in Northern Virginia, my reflections merge. Convergence is appealing to the artistic community while connecting them to Baptist roots. Hawkins says that even those who enter the Baptist family from no religious tradition become fascinated when they discover part of their past as new Baptists.
Not every church can be a St. Michael’s or a Convergence, but every church can and should seek ways to lift the people of its community with the gospel and to connect with the interests of people. Remembering that “art” is subjective, a rural church might focus on the art of canning preserves or the art of bow hunting. Another might focus on the art of keeping a drive in the fairway or landscape perfection.
Of course, classical arts will find their places in the mix as well. Such an approach is essentially forward focused, like those who add beauty to life by planting trees in the shade of which they will not live long enough to sit.
In so doing, we can not only introduce them Jesus, but also to folks called Baptists who have a past worth embracing.