The Churches of New York LXIX: Country Gothic in the City

St. Thomas More
65 East 89th Street

It’s an elegant area indeed around East 90th Street near Park, the so-called “Carnegie Hill.” Even up to the early 1980’s it had the reputation of being a lesser known, less socially prominent but quieter alternative to the Upper East Side to the immediate south. But those days are long past and both areas are for all intents and purposes indistinguishable. Yet overshadowed by the cold luxury of the high rise apartment buildings we find a remarkable sight straight out of the English countryside: a small stone Gothic Church, in the midst of a rambling set of buildings and crowned by a curiously articulated, romantic tower. For good reason we always encounter the same adjectives in articles about this church: ”quaint,” “picturesque,” “quirky,” “charming.” Even if, nowadays, St. Thomas More is dwarfed by the monstrously scaled buildings that surround it and which condemn this delicate little sanctuary to partial perpetual shadow.

There is much history here. St. Thomas More is the second oldest church on the Upper East Side, yet it is also one of the most recent Catholic parishes on the island of Manhattan– for it was not even built as a Catholic church! 1) When this church was built in 1870 it stood isolated near the developing district of Yorkville, far to the north of the built up areas of New York City. It was created by the Episcopal church as the Church of the Beloved Disciple for “St. Luke’s Home for Indigent Women.” As time went on more structures were added: a chapel to the west, a rectory and a parish house to the east, giving the church its present romantic appearance.

In 1925 the Church of the Beloved Disciple merged with another Anglican parish that had migrated from further south in the city. The buildings then were acquired by the Reformed Church of Harlem (which was undoubtedly fleeing south from developments in that area). Which congregation, it is reported, installed eight stained glass windows from their previous church (How was this done? Did their stained glass by chance exactly fit the windows of the Church of the Beloved Disciple or did they have to be cut down?) In the meantime the former Church of the Beloved Disciple, which had been on the far outskirts of the city, now found itself in the northern reaches of the city’s most affluent residential area. 2)

In 1950 Cardinal Spellman acquired this church for the new parish of St. Thomas More. I have heard entertaining tales as to why this was done – usually revolving around rivalry with the Jesuits of St. Ignatius Loyola parish. It is said that the proprietor of a funeral home had had a falling out with Jesuits of St. Ignatius Loyola parish. In revenge he instigated the creation of a new parish to which he could offer his services. Or that Cardinal Spellman himself wanted to break the monopoly of the Jesuits to the Upper East Side (the wealthiest neighborhood of the country, even of the world). More likely, as in the case Our Saviour’s parish erected a few years later, Cardinal Spellman just wanted to give the residents of a well-heeled enclave a neighborhood church of their own. For it was an age where church policy favored the establishment of smaller, more accessible communities in place of the huge (both in terms of the size of the congregation and of the church) parishes of yore.

The dedication of the new parish, St. Thomas More – like that of Our Saviour’s – would be elegant and English. The same held true of the alterations to the interior to convert the church to Catholic worship:

“Inside the church, a marble communion rail was installed at the forward edge of the chancel and shrines to the Blessed Mother and St. Joseph were installed along the left and right sides of the chancel. (A) wooden reredos an(d) angel-topped riddle posts, both displacing (sic) table flower ornaments characteristic of the “Decorated Style,” were also installed.” 3)

(Below) The photograph exaggerates the size of church.

Much of this decoration is still in place. It is all very 1950’s “liturgical movement,” very restrained and very elegant. The white statues of the side altars barely emerge from the wall – no exuberant army of painted images here! It is understandable that only one or two candles – even if real – are lit before such images. A severe post conciliar housecleaning removed, among other things, the communion rail. More recent restoration added a prominent organ in the sanctuary. The overall appearance of the sanctuary today would not offend the sensitivities of the prior Anglican and even Dutch Reformed proprietors of this place.

Nevertheless this small church is a place of contemplation and beauty – entirely attributable to the former Protestant congregations who left a legacy of architecture and stained glass – in the Catholic Style, as Pugin would have said – to the parish. The Gothic arches of the aisles support a wooden hammer beam ceiling. When the lights are dimmed the bright colors of the stained glass glow in the obscurity. These windows constitute the most prominent decorative element of the church. At least the wood of Cardinal Spellman’s reredos does not dispel these impressions.

(Above and below) The “Protestant” Windows.

(Above) Victorian favorite: William Holman Hunt’s The Light of the World

The Church of St. Thomas More, both in its interior and exterior, demonstrates how, despite a restricted scale, good architecture can make a profound impression. It is a testimony to the declining state of the arts in the Catholic church of the mid- twentieth century, though, that Cardinal Spellman’s two most successful churches in Manhattan – St. Thomas More and Immaculate Conception – were 19th century structures created by Episcopalians.

And the complex of St. Thomas More is not just the church. There is the 1879 Foley chapel – named after a later donor who funded its refurbishment. It now includes two confessionals. On the other side of church is the grandly scaled rectory (1880) and parish house of 1893. Within is one of the most impressive halls – an “overcroft?” – of any parish in New York City. 4)

(Above: the parish hall)

(Above) The “Foley” chapel – which at one point was considered a “Lady Chapel.” (Below) After the chapel became Catholic, a window with the coat of arms of the Dutch Reformed church was replced by this window which includes Marian symbols.

 

After its establishment, St. Thomas More parish quietly carried on in its corner of Manhattan. In the early 80’s it was the scene of some surprising and original lay initiatives. The prior management of the parish were among the few clergy of the day who saw the need to reach out to the “young professionals” (at that time there was a more disparaging term in circulation) of the city. The result was a successful series of social events and Catholic devotions aimed at this population. Similarly, 1981 saw the start of the Narnia club, which even today runs an orthodox catechetical program for the students of non-Catholic schools.

(Above and below) Window with the new “Catholic” dedication of the the Narnia Clubs (see below)

Later, though, thanks to the Kennedy family, this parish found itself in the national celebrity spotlight. When Jacqueline Kennedy – an allegedly “devout” parishioner – died in 1994, the funeral had to be held in St Ignatius Loyola for lack of space at St Thomas More. But when John F Kennedy Jr.’s 1999 service was held in this parish, a blaze of media publicity resulted. The church was reserved to the Kennedy family and their courtiers – not just the church but all of East 89th Street was sealed off from gawkers.5)

So, despite its small scale, St. Thomas More parish seemingly could do little wrong. It was affluent, active and “vibrant.” It was and is in the black. A nursery school was established on the premises of the parish. St. Thomas More parish had carried out a multi-year restoration of the exterior and interior. That included the restoration of the stained glass. In what seemed at least to me to be a controversial choice, the dedications of the original Protestant donors were knocked out and the names of the new donors to the restoration campaign substituted. As we shall see, however, their glory  may be short-lived.

(Above) If you are curious there is a plaque in the small “narthex” listing the original benefactors of the windows.

Yes, at least as far as the churches of Manhattan island are concerned, St. Thomas More appeared to be the ideal Archdiocesan parish. It is characteristic that the o-so-very-progressive court historian of the Archdiocese, (Fr.) Thomas J. Shelley, who wrote effusively about labor unions, class conflict and the civil rights movement, chose to reside for years not at parishes such as Holy Agony, St. Teresa or All Saints (to name three options just in Manhattan), but here.

The news that the Archdiocese intends to close St. Thomas More parish was thus all the more crushing. Especially since the parishioners would be “invited” to attend St. Ignatius Loyola church; after all, St. Thomas More had been founded to sever this neighborhood from St. Ignatius Loyola and its Jesuits! The parish would not seem to have any of the signs of distress  identified by the Archdiocese in “Making all things New.” (Whatever one may think of the appropriateness of these exclusively materialistic criteria.) The stated reasons given for this “merger proposal” did not immediately appear convincing: “that since St. Thomas More will eventually close some day, it is better to do it now rather than later, when there is presently a momentum within the Archdiocese to merge parishes.” 6) “I can’t just close poor churches.” 7)

Peggy Noonan, however, has cut to the heart of the matter:

“If St. Thomas More is closed it can be sold. New York is experiencing a real estate boom, Carnegie hill is desirable. The church and its land could bring in $50 million, maybe $100 million. Any number of developers would jump at the chance. It’s rumored –rumored- any number have.” 8)

So St. Thomas More parish now is in the first – and perhaps last – great crisis of its 64-year existence. What a tragedy for the parishioners, the neighborhood and the city as whole to lose such a unique architectural landmark – and reverent place of prayer! Perhaps this is the lesson: even if one – a parish, a diocese or an individual Catholic – leads an economically sheltered life, even if one abides by all the ecclesiastical “rules of the game,” the worsening crisis of the Roman Catholic Church will inevitably overtake him. I wish this parish, which I have known for so many years, well in its campaign for survival. An affluent parish like this does have some powerful and articulate allies. Yet I would also encourage them to reflect on the life of their patron saint – who, after all, also lived – and was martyred – in a time of conflict, confusion and chaos within the Church.

See the informative parish WEBSITE for materials on the proposed closure and on the parish, online petitions etc.

1) Dunlop, David W. From Abyssinian to Zion: A Guide to Manhattan’s Houses of Worship at 247(Columbia University Press, New York, 2004)
2) “History of Our Church” at http://thomasmorechurch.org/history-of-our-church
3) Ibid.
4) Gray, Christopher, Streetscapes: “St. Thomas More Roman Catholic Church; a Touch of the English Countryside in Manhattan, ” the New York Times (4/2/1989)
5) Kleinfeld, N.R., “The Kennedy Memorial: the Service; Doors closed, Kennedys Offer Their Farewells”, The New York Times (7/24/1999)
6) “Fr. Madigan’s Message about Proposed Merger of St. Thomas More with St. Ignatius Loyola November 23, 2014” at http://thomasmorechurch.org/documents/2014/11/Fr._Madigans_Message_about_Proposed_Merger.pdf
7) See Noonan, infra.
8) Noonan, Peggy, “Cardinal, Please Spare this Church,” The Wall Street Journal at A13 (12/27/2014)