The Gospel, as Done by Mick and Keith
Mitch Hanley, Senior Producer
Yesterday morning I was making breakfast, cleaning the kitchen, and listening to the Rolling Stones’ Beggar’s Banquet, one of my favorite of their albums (includes “Sympathy for the Devil,” “Street Fightin Man,” etc.). This record has a great rendition of the story of the prodigal son, a biblical parable with a message that I have never appreciated, until yesterday.
I have always felt that there should be consequences for the younger son having left, blown all his money, and then comes back to be received into the fold of his family. And what about the elder son who remained there, steadfast and dedicated, his inheritance intact? What message does he receive, other than, ‘You might as well go off and blow your wad, too, because it doesn’t really matter’? Well, OK, so this really isn’t the message.
And yesterday it seems as though I had a eureka moment, long after most of you, I suppose. So, life isn’t fair, right? We all know that; we’ve seen it every day in the news where there are injustices and sometimes no consequences. But for a reader of the Bible, does one wish that God’s love be merely fair with consequences for bad decisions? I would think not. My guess is that we want it both ways: we want justice here on earth and for God’s love to be unconditional. What is wrong with that? But the story is not trying to reflect how it is here on earth, and only how God’s love is — unreasonable, irrational, and that is the beauty of it.
So what are the benefits of remaining on the farm? Or, in another way, what are the benefits of leading a life within the fold of God’s love? I would guess there are many different answers to this question, depending on whom you ask.
I also have to think, ‘What if the younger son went off, blew all his money, and became Buddhist?’ Would he still be “dead” to his father?
Capturing a Conversation in an Image
Trent Gilliss, Online Editor
One of the most time-consuming and rewarding parts of my job is sifting through hundreds, if not thousands, of images — usually photographs — for use on the Web site and in the e-mail newsletter for each week’s show. I attempt to bring another layer of meaning and understanding to the broadcast/podcast, and, when I’m on my game, a moment of transcendent elegance and beauty.
Much like the music chosen in our program, each image to me is a unique content element with its own story, even if it’s not clearly defined. One photo may just catch the eye enough for you to read on; another may make you crinkle your nose a bit and wonder why did they choose that one.
I relish ambiguity and subtlety. I prefer photographs that cause the viewer to ask more questions than offer answers. I prefer to honor the viewers intellect and curiosity rather than simply report the story. For SOF, I prefer human images to inanimate objects.
For this week’s program “Inside Mormon Faith” I struggled to create a group of images to choose from. Of course, there were loads of photographs of LDS temples from all points on the globe — some absolutely haunting and dramatic: 
(photo: Russell Mondy)
And some ethereal and expressive (taken with a toy camera): 
(photo: William “formica”/Flickr)
When I was looking for more human, pedestrian moments, I saw photos by a reporter from the Sunday Times of London (don’t you just adore the guy covering his face) of Mitt campaigning : 
(photo: Tony Allen-Mills)
Oh, yes, a rock band pretending to be Mormons: 
(photo: BLKHRTMDR/Flickr)
…and young men singing Christmas carols and speaking to non-Mormons: 
(photo: Michael Ignatov) 
(photo: Brian “hoveringdog”/Flickr)
But, in the end, the decision came down to two images, with this one losing out by a hair. What I appreciated about it was the repeating patterns of the brick, the interaction of LDS members in different ways in a very pedestrian manner — waiting at a bus stop. 
(photo: Simon Knott)
I ended up going with the image leading this post because of one thing. The young man was looking into the camera without posing but was in the background surrounded by other passersby. It had a greater depth I couldn’t ignore.
What would you have gone with? Should I have been looking in different places?
A List Apart
Trent Gilliss, Online Editor
The List Universe assembles all types of “top 15” lists. Well, they’ve started a series on religious and atheist thinkers. I couldn’t help note the contrast in quotes from the great 13th-century philosopher Thomas Aquinas:
“Wonder is the desire for knowledge.”
and one of America’s great 20th-century writers, Ernest Hemingway:
“All thinking men are atheists.”
Welcome to Alabama
Mitch Hanley, Senior Producer
We arrived in Greensboro on Tuesday afternoon and headed straight up to Antioch Baptist Church (see image below) to see if there was any information on services during the week. We were hoping to gather sound of the church’s congregation, perhaps speaking to members who had seen the previous incarnation. Cruising down the 1.5 lane highway at a healthy speed, we eyed this tiny sign pointing down a gravel road (driveway) “Antioch Baptist Church.” The grass between the tire tracks was quite tall, giving me the impression that this church might not get used at all. As we walked up to the structure we knew immediately that this was a Rural Studio project, it was like no other church in the area (except for the other RS chapels).
Alongside the church is an elevated graveyard with headstones dating back to the early 1800’s. The juxtaposition of these old tombs looking upon the modern chapel below was striking, as was the fact that the only windows along the long walls of the church were the narrow strip which looked directly out at the graves.
As we walked along the grounds, which were surrounded by thick forests of pines, you could hear an old hound dog howling in the distance interspersed with long stretches of eerie silence. This combination seemed to say, Welcome to rural Alabama!
We left Antioch to head back to Greensboro and again, at highway speed this dog seemed to come out of nowhere. At least, it seemed like a dog, minus one ear. This German Shepherd was standing next to the side of the road waiting for us to pass, standing alert with its one good ear. Sorry, it was just too strange for us to want to get out and snap a photo.
Establishing Roots to the Past
Trent Gilliss, Online Editor
The foundation has been laid and now the heavy lifting begins for second-year students at the Rural Studio. They completely dismantled St. Luke’s Episcopal Church (circa 1854) last year and cataloged all its elements — from mortise & tenon beams to cut nails. Then, they loaded up the truck and relocated the structure near its original location in Cahawba, the first capital of Alabama.
The effort is painstaking, but history teaches lessons. And Jason Coomes, the instructor for this project, says it awakens the eyes of his young students and town citizens alike. The quality of craftsmanship and ingenuity of construction contributed to its longevity.
Beams used for floor joists weren’t nailed to the foundation. Taboo nowadays perhaps, but a feature that allowed the building to move enough so that it didn’t collapse under stress and strain. Now that they’re assembling the salvaged floor, they’ll date-stamp the contemporary substitutions to provide a legacy for the next generation trying to figure out how the church was built and rebuilt.
In so doing, they preserve our cultural legacy, teach the next generation of architects what it means to design buildings that last, salvage wood that most likely would have deteriorated or been scrapped, and sustain the geography of place that was once washed away by the floodplain of the Cahawba River. This seems like sensible sustainability, one that sates the curiosity of generations to come.
Antioch Baptist Church
Trent Gilliss, Online Editor
Thirty minutes north of Greensboro is a magnificent country church with a modernist flare that would appeal to most minimalists. In 2002, a century-old church standing on the site was carefully dismantled right down to the pulled nails so the materials could be reused in its current incarnation. The concrete blocks were salvaged from the women’s dorms at Auburn and serve as a retaining wall leading parishioners into the church.
(photo: Mitch Hanley)
