Collaborative blog by Rev. Dr. Craig Howard, Executive Presbyter, Presbytery of Chicago; and Lisa Allgood, Executive Presbyter, Presbytery of Cincinnati
“He has told you, O human, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” Micah 6:8
Recently, we (Craig and Lisa) had the privilege of teaching at the Synod of Lincoln Trails’ Wellspring gathering, held in the beautiful and historic town of New Harmony, Indiana. In the early 1800s, this little village saw not one but two attempts to create a utopian community—both of which, like most human utopias, eventually failed. The village still has many beautiful historic buildings, and there is a definite spirit of “memory” pervading the place.
What kept drawing us—and many others—back, again and again, was the sprit embedded in a hidden modernist masterpiece by architect Philip Johnson: the Roofless Church. Completed in 1960, it challenges our expectations of what a church should be—roofed, walled, enclosed. It does have a kind of roof, and folded walls of a sort, but the structure itself opens outward, embracing rather than enclosing. The church extends across an entire city block, partly defined by low brick walls, and looks out over a vast open field that feels like part of its sacred space.
Roofless Church. Photo by Rev. Dr. Craig Howard
The statue in the middle of the structure is a bronze sculpture of the Holy Spirit descending upon the Virgin Mary who, in an inverted rose bud (the original symbol of the first New Harmony, and echoing the shadow cast by the folded structure), opens to give birth to the Lamb below. It’s one of three original casts of the sculpture by Jewish artist Jacques Lipchitz (1891-1973). Those of you who are spiritual travelers may recognize it from its other two locations: the Catholic Church of d’Assy (France) or the Ecumenical Abbey of Iona (Scotland).
Deliberately playful in form and joyfully nondenominational in spirit, this open-air parabola of a cathedral invites all faiths to worship under the only roof big enough to hold them all — the sky. It stands as a living symbol of the Holy Spirit’s continuing work of rebirth, light, and unity — a glimpse of the harmony the Utopians once imagined and the harmony God still calls us to create in God’s name. When Craig celebrated his 40th birthday by skydiving, he experienced that same vast expanse firsthand. Free-falling through the boundless blue, he felt both awe and perspective: even in the openness of the sky, gravity, air resistance, and altitude still matter. In the same way, a church that reaches for the heavens must remain grounded — roofless and embracing, yet mindful of the boundaries that give it form, balance, and grace.
Roofless Church. Photo by Rev. Dr. Craig Howard
And isn’t that what we discover each time we step beyond the walls of our church buildings and become the hands and feet of Christ in the world? Those walls that once felt safe can quietly confine us, convincing us that holiness lives only inside — when, in truth, God is already at work outside, calling us to follow. Missional theology reminds us that the Spirit moves in open spaces: in the songs of protest echoing outside ICE detention centers, in the quiet grace of pastors walking children safely to school, in the tender act of carrying groceries to a neighbor’s door. Each small gesture becomes a prayer, each movement an offering. In leaving the safety of church buildings, we find again the living God — waiting for us in the streets, the schools, and the sacred, ordinary places where love still dares to go.
Friends, it’s time to rise up and step beyond the walls — the walls of our churches, our comfort, our fear, and our pride. The injustices, the evil, the horrors we see in the world will not change unless we move beyond our boundaries and act. Human-made utopias always fail; only when we are rooted in God’s purpose do we glimpse true wholeness. So let’s rise — not to build a perfect world of our own making, but to live faithfully in God’s open, roofless world.
God of all people, help us to be brave, to be bold, to stand up for all that you wish for in your people. Give us the strength to stand up for justice when we see injustice. Give us the wisdom to speak your truth into the winds of untruth. Make us the harmony-bearers, the justice-keepers, the ones who sow dignity and kindness and equality. Let us be the light-bearers, the ones who cast compassion and kindness on those around us, even when it may not be deserved. And may we remember that you are our King, our Lord, and that we are simply the ones who walk humbly with you with humility and reverence, recognizing our limitations and weaknesses are shadows in the light of your greatness. Above all, let us be the ones who show gratitude and love to you always, giving you the glory and honor for all that we are and all that we are yet becoming. Teach us to welcome, to bless, and to remember that we are most like you when we honor the divine image in every human soul. Amen.
Roofless Church. Photo by Rev. Dr. Craig Howard
