One of the most obvious benefits of improving the church's accessibility will be to retain (and in some cases, gain or regain) older parishioners who have developed trouble using stairs. This group is a vibrant and valuable part of our parish community, and serving these people through the proposed building improvements is a worthy goal on its own. However, it's good to keep in mind that an elevator and other proposed changes can serve a much larger group than we might initially think.
There are several reasons that people of any age may be able to benefit from a more accessible building. Sometimes, a mobility impairment is only the temporary result of an injury. Not long after I took part in a parish accessibility survey in 2010, I tore some cartilage in my left knee and was using crutches for a total of two months pre- and post-surgery. It gave me a better appreciation for the issues that some of our members and visitors face every time they come to our church.
Sometimes, a person may have intermittent or recurring trouble getting around. Someone with arthritis may be able to attend church without problems for months at a time and yet know all the while that another flare-up may come the next week, or the next, or the next.
And sometimes, a person may have a constant and lifelong condition. When Mary and I celebrated the baptism of our son Ted last Pentecost, we were blessed to have numerous relatives attend the service, but I knew it would pose problems for my college-aged cousin Brad. He was born with spina bifida and has always had to use a wheelchair. For a visitor like Brad to feel comfortable at St. John's involves not just an elevator or an accessible bathroom but the whole path from car to pew, including parking, signage, and entrances.
Many churches have plans and good intentions when it comes to serving the needs of members and visitors in these categories. I feel proud to have been part of the process of putting these intentions into
action at St. John's, and for many years to come, I look forward to welcoming new people to our parish who can attend because of the vision and dedication that we all share today.
--R.J. VanSwol
I’ve been thinking about how the name of our church, “St. John the Evangelist” relates to how the vestry has been focusing on accessibility issues for the past couple of years. The dictionary definition of “evangelist” is one who practices evangelism by enthusiastically promoting or promulgating something.” And, “evangelism” is defined as “zealous preaching and dissemination of the gospel.”
How much do we as individuals practice evangelism? In the modern world we don’t do much. In fact, the most obvious and frequent evangelism most of us observe are the small groups of two or three members of a few denominations that walk the streets of our neighborhoods and knock on our doors to pass out literature about the gospel. They want to share their beliefs with us. I know that many people, including me, aren’t especially comfortable and welcoming when we here such a knock on own doors at home.
But imagine for a moment that someone is metaphorically knocking on the door at St. John’s church, not to persuade us to share their beliefs, but to want to experience and share ours. The vestry had heard such a
knock from some of our own parishioners and potential new ones. Those knocks come from people who are disabled, perhaps temporarily with a healing knee or hip, or those who won’t heal and must try to cope with steep stairs between three floor levels.
Will we hear the knocks and respond so that our current members can continue to share the body of Christ? Or, so that potential new members who have disabilities can partake of it? The vestry believes we must respond by making our church accessible to all. Then we may call ourselves evangelists.
--Frank So
Our community, our worship, and our building are gifts that we are called to give everyone throughout their lives. I think of the Accessibility Project as a way that St. John's can live into this statement. I know that many of us have talked about how St. John's has been a gift to us in our lives, but how often do we acknowledge the gift we are to others? Do we think of what a gift St. John's is to other members of our church, to those from the community, or to folks who simply come in once and happen to find comfort and the grace of God within these walls?
I think acknowledging that we are a gift to others is hard; not because it would be thought of as conceited or prideful, but because as Christians there is always work involved. I am not a theologian, but I don't remember many stories in the Bible when someone understands that they are a gift, and then they get to sit back and gloat. There is usually a long journey and some hard work in there somewhere.
A few years ago, members of St. John's realized that while we were a gift to many, we couldn't be a gift to everyone who might want what we had to offer. Folks who can't navigate stairs well, or are prone to trip on uneven surfaces are not welcome here in the same way that everyone else is. We stop being a gift to long-time members of St. John's if they have to give up some of their dignity to enter our worship space.
We are robbed of new members who could bless our community if they see an obstacle course instead of a place to enrich their spiritual lives.
And so the journey begins. In a few weeks we will present the information we have about the accessibility needs of this parish, and some options concerning what we need to do to make the gift of St. John's available to everyone throughout their lives. I believe the journey will be worth it, and that we will really discover what a gift we are, and more importantly, what a gift we can be to all those who enter.
--Anne Edwards
To me, the word accessibility can be examined from more than just one aspect. The physical aspect would be the building of St. John the Evangelist Church. The easier it is for both members and visitors to enter the building, the greater the access to what and why the Church exists in Flossmoor. This extends to all worship and prayer services, congregational meetings, Sunday school, Coffee Hour, Vestry meetings, committee meetings and other uses of the building. The outward visual image of the Church is one of open and natural to the casual observer.
An additional aspect is the spiritual being of the Church. Both members and visitors must be able to enter easily for whatever reason. The access of people to be able to easily attend the worship services, prayer services, speak/meet with the Rector, as well as weddings and funerals are vital activities of any house of worship. People should not have to think twice about attending St. John’s because of limited access to the Church or the Undercroft for any Church related or community activity.
Church structures, as well as their staff, are considered to be havens when disasters, both natural and personal, confront people. Both of these should be open to all, regardless of any physical disability. If St. John’s is to attain this level, changes must be made to truly be accessible to all who desire or need what can be found inside its walls.
The planning, financing, purchase and installation of an elevator will be that first step for the accessibility to all of the numerous activities, both religious and community oriented, that St. John’s offers. The Church must expand its involvement with ideas from those whose bodies may fail, but their minds are still active and continue to have so much to offer the community.
The world, in the 21st century, has changed drastically because of the continuance of manmade information/communication inventions. Most of these have caused a restructuring of the family in the last 75 years. As a result of this, the role of the Church has been reduced in importance in many American homes. St. John’s can become even more of a leader in Flossmoor, as well as the surrounding communities, as more modern, caring, outreaching and very trusting Church. St. John the Evangelist Episcopal Church can be a place where, anyone in our world, can enter to find the peace, understanding or answers that they desire.
Both Mary and I worked on this assignment. Perhaps we view the Episcopal Church as a balance between our Lutheran and Catholic backgrounds. The whole Episcopal religion seems steeped in its unique ability to accept anyone at their communion table. There seems to be a flowing of genuine care and thanksgiving everywhere in and around the St. John’s community.
--Dr. Steve Hofer
Accessibility. It’s an interesting word. When thinking about a facility, this word is a measure to determine if that building is available to as many people as possible.
But what does accessible mean when thinking about a community of faith? I suppose it is a measure by which that community is available and welcoming to as many as possible. But ultimately, I think it is a word that measures the quality of its entry points. An entry point is a means by which we enter the community of faith in deeper, more meaningful ways. At these points God is revealed to us and we are reminded who we are.
I find the concept of the entry point – that point of access – to be one of the most persistent realities in my own walk of faith. As a young child, my points of entry were Christmas and Easter and the many interesting characters in Scripture. I found small yet lasting truths while experiencing these elements of Christian tradition. As a teenager, the entry point was music. I am not a musician, but at that time of my life it was the hook that kept me thinking about God’s kingdom on earth. And as a college student, the entry point was a series of trips I took to serve the poor in Latin America. These trips had a lasting impact on my sense of place in the broader community of God.
Throughout those years and the years since, I have either grown in my Christian faith because there were various ways to access God’s truth, or not grown because I could not find or had stopped looking for the entry points.
So what does this have to do with our accessibility needs here at St. Johns in 2012? What are our limitations in terms of entry points in our church? Though I genuinely find our congregation to be warm and welcoming, I also think we can do better to improve some foundational entry points. For those with limited vision and mobility, we have a facility that rates very poorly, and thereby we reduce our capacity for a more complete community. But I fear the work to be done on this project may crowd out a host of other critical entry points that existed here at St. Johns in the past. Where is our collective effort to foster Christian development in our teenagers? Have we collectively forgotten our commitment to the millennium development goals or a similar initiative? Will we find a solution to a columbarium that has no more room for many of us?
How do we faithfully pursue an accessibility project that offers a diversity of entry points such as these?
Last Christmas, our existing system was malfunctioning and so several men carried a parishioner down the steps from the sanctuary. It was frightening and lacked dignity, and I believe it is time to solve this lasting problem. But how do we engage this project without limiting the entry points that are an important part of our past? As we continue on our journey to improve this facility, it is essential that we create an accessibility project that promotes diverse ways to access the community of faith.
--Mark Moxley