Helen Kaar - On Vision

Helen Kaar

I’m Helen Kaar, a member of the team that chose the architect for the Red Cross property we bought recently, and it’s déjà vu. More than 20 years ago, I was part of the team that chose the architect for the renovation and addition to our sanctuary. At the time, it was the most ambitious, the most expensive project since the founders built it. And during construction, I threw myself into it without reservation. It almost became my full time job. 

You see,  from the moment I set foot in here, this place moved me. And it wasn’t only the words from the pulpit. Just as a fine instrument makes music better, I cannot separate the words I heard from the warmth, the beauty of our sanctuary, a place steeped for more than a century in its members’ free search for truth and meaning. 

Over 20 years ago, we had to choose among three plans, and I stood right in the pulpit, and promoted my least favorite one to the congregation. Why? Because after 40 years of debating what to do about our facilities, it was the most feasible. To afford it, we had to sell a larger property up the street and consolidate here, we had to accept a limit to growth. And at the time, I had to reconcile myself to that. I convinced myself it would be a good model for the 21st century—which it is. We have to wrest ourselves from a destructive myth of progress that sows dissatisfaction with everything we already have, Appreciating, taking care of what we already have, is one of the most sustainable things we can do.

Still, others have said that this building no longer expresses enough of who we are. Coming as it does out of a sturdy Protestant tradition, it sends a misleading message about us into the World. There’s some truth to that. And despite the limits of this place, we keep growing. Like the old woman who lived with so many children in a shoe, the shoe no longer fits. How do we resolve this paradox?

Paradox. It sets limits. I love limits. They can spur creativity, open a vista between either/or, between holding on and letting go. Like those who came before us, we can find satisfaction, even inspiration somewhere between everything possible to imagine and everything really possible. As one of our favorite hymns says, "Roots hold me close; wings set me free."