ANGLIA POLYTECHNIC UNIVERSITY
(now
Anglia Ruskin University )

 BUILT ENVIRONMENT AND BIBLICAL THEOLOGY

MAKING CONNECTIONS: DISCERNING RELATIONSHIPS

MICHAEL POWELL

 

 Doctor of Philosophy  February 2003

8 JOHN’S GOSPEL: IDENTITY

Everyone has a figure in his work to whom he feels answerable. l also say to myself, `How am 1 doing, Corbusier' You see, Corbusier was my teacher, and Paul Cret was my teacher. l have learned not to do as they did, not to imitate, but to sense their spirit (Louis Kahn)

8.1 Purpose

The purpose of this Section is to consider John 1: 19-51; 9-10; and 14-16. 

These materials are seen to be concerned with the identity of Jesus and hence with his relationships with the Jews of Jerusalem and with his disciples. As depicted by John these relationships centre around his claims to have been sent from God as light for the world, hotly contested by the Jews but significant for a man bom blind, and to be the only Son of the Father, something needing explanation.

Built Environments are bound up with people and communities, their identities, claims, needs and relationships. The centrifugal dynamic forces questions about such matters inasmuch as they are depicted by built environments.

8.2 Summary of the biblical text

The text of chapter 1 moves from the archetypal prologue considered in Section fi above to the typological events of John 1:19-51. John the Baptist is outside Jerusalem in the vicinity of Bethany and the Jordan, baptizing. Messengers are sent out from inside the city to ask him who he is. He is neither the Messiah nor a returned Elijah; his task is to announce the presence of one greater than himself. The next day he sees Jesus coming, refers to him as Lamb of God and testifies that he has witnessed the baptism of Jesus by the Holy Spirit. Andrew and Simon transfer their discipleship from John to Jesus, Simon's name being changed to Peter. Jesus goes to Bethsaida in Galilee , Andrew and Peter's hometown, and there meets Philip and Nathanael. Here in Bethsaida , far from Jerusalem , Nathanael confesses Jesus to be both Son of God and King of Israel.

John 8 opens with Jesus who, having spent time out at the Mount of Olives , goes into the temple in the morning to teach.' He speaks in the treasury of himself as the light of the world; to follow him is to experience, not darkness, but the tight of life. Not to accept who he is, is to be in a state of sin and a slave to it. To deny who he is and seek to kill him is to deny continuity with Abraham and the fatherhood of God. With the statement that he knew Abraham and existed before him ( 9:58 ), Jesus is stoned and goes out of the temple.

In John 9 the theme of the light of the world is continued in an encounter with a man born blind. Neither he nor his parents have sinned to cause his blindness. He is to be a sign. Jesus spits on the ground, mixes saliva with mud and rubs the paste onto the man's eyes, who, when he has washed it off, is able to see. There is consternation. The man's neighbours ask whether it really was him. The Jews think he was not born blind at all but his parents insist that he was. The Jews insist that he was born in sin and drive him out. When Jesus finds him, he accepts that Jesus is the Son of Man and worships him. The encounter ends with Jesus saying that it is the Pharisees who will become blind and be in a state of sin.

The setting of John 1416 is neither the temple precincts nor the streets, but the Passover meal shared by Jesus and his disciples, during which he speaks intimately to them. He sees the time coming when, after his death, they will be put out of the synagogues. Neither he nor his Father will be known and the ad of expulsion itself will be looked upon as an ad of worship.

The theme of this Passover discourse is relationship and discipleship. Jesus is going to the Father's house; there he will prepare rooms for them. His departure will be painful for them. To ease the pain, he will ask the Father to send an Advocate, the Holy Spirit. His parting gift will be peace. The mark of the relationship between him and the Father is love, as it is to be between him and them, and among them. The Father is like a vine-grower, Jesus is the true vine, into which the disciples may be grafted and from which much good fruit will come. All this pertains to the truth. The long-term outcome will be joy, even though in the short-term they will know persecution. Always, the purpose is to glorify God.

 

8.3 Biblical commentators  

The work of four commentators is considered. Koester works with the symbolism of light and what it reveals about identity.  Malina and Rohrbaugh work from a sociological perspective and explain the place of Jesus' anti-society within Jewish society. Lindars' approach to the concept of 'life' is considered. Dodd is the source of some further relevant detail.  

Koester (1995) demonstrates how John uses symbols to enable people to know about God. `The Gospel presents the paradox that the divine is made known through what is earthly and the universal is disclosed through what is particular'. (Koester 1995:3). The symbols operate simultaneously on two levels: one level of meaning concems Christ and the other discipleship of him.

People are drawn into the experience of the man bom blind. `We must work the works of him who sent me ` (9:4). We' can include those living at the time the Gospel was written. It is not Jesus who is centre-stage but the man himself, thus evoking the time when Jesus will , be absent and `he who believes in me will also do the works that I do' ( 14:12 ). Furthermore, the man remains anonymous, simply one blind from birth. (9:1) He represents everyone who is confronted with the light of the worid. (9:5,39). This action took place at Siloam, which means `one who has been sent', thus making a significant connection between the event and where it took place. Koester thinks it significant that this event took place outside the synagogue since it 'forces readers to move outside a strict Jewish frame of reference' (Koester 1995:104).

The light to which the blind man has come is a particular, or typological, case of something more widely significant. The symbols of light and darkness are archetypal but have particular meaning in the context of the account of Jesus given in John. God's Word, which was for all humanity, became flesh and dwelt among us and we beheld his glory, in Israel 's particular history. The glory was that which was associated with the tabernacle in the time of Moses. Light manifests life. The proclamation of the Prologue would remind hearers and readers of Genesis 1:1-3, a text well known to Jews and some Greeks. It would have been recited in synagogue from memory. This primordial light does not give way to darkness as the daylight does. John the Baptist bore witness to the light (1:8). Traditionally, prophets, priests and teachers were known as lights or lamps. Jesus was the true light, that is light of a different order from that of the prophets. The light enlightened everyone. Enlightenment sometimes meant physical health but more often understanding of life shaped by the wisdom of God. Non-Jewish readers would also have understood the process of illumination, the movement from darkness to light, as having philosophical connotations. The point being made at the opening of the Gospel is that the light of the Word being made flesh is neither that of wisdom and law nor that of Greek philosophy. The connection of enlightenment with Jesus would have been startling in its particularity.

Jesus' proclamation that he was the light of the world was set during the Feast of Tabernacles (7:2), the weeklong celebration of the wilderness period utilised by Nehemiah. Koester gives a most evocative architectural picture:

Each evening worshippers crowded into the women's court, where four enormous lampstands were erected, each supporting four large bowls of oil with wicks made from the discarded undergarments of the priests. Throughout the night, young men from the priestly families clambered up ladders with additional oil to refill the lamps, so that the light shone incessantly in the darkness. Its rays gleamed from the temple's white stone walls and the bronze gate at the end of the courtyard, where Levites played their harps, lyres, cymbals and trumpets, as men noted for their piety and good works sang and danced to the Songs of Ascents (Psalms122-134) with as many as eight flaming torches in their hands. The radiance emanating from the temple illumined courtyards throughout the city until the first shafts of daylight appeared over the Mount of Olives .

(Koester 1995:141)

Some understanding of the Old Testament would have been necessary to see the significance of the festival of Tabernacles but the divine character of light was recognized by people throughout the ancient world. To walk in the light ( 8:12 ) is the way of discipleship. 'Walk' points to an ethical dimension, which brings relationship with God.

Malina and Rohrbaugh (1998) provide a social science commentary on John. Their aim is to enable their readers to interpret the text in a way that would be fair to the original writer and audience. They believe the text depicts `an alternate reality .... set up in opposition to its opponents, notably `this world' and 'the Judeans"' (Malina and Rohrbaugh 1998:9). `John's group' sets up this alternate reality. Its existence implies: `an emphasis on new core values and an attempt to create standards and structures to implement those values. Similarly, it implies a preoccupation with social boundaries, social definition and the defence of identity.' (Malina and Rohrbaugh 1998:12). Such alternates are also characterised by a special conception of information and knowledge through, in the case of John, Jesus as revealer of alternatives.

Malina and Rohrbaugh point out that the New Testament world and John's altemate world even more so, were societies in which there was a widely shared understanding of contexts and meanings. Societies were simple and change occurred slowly_ This is not like the modem world:

Life today has complexified into a thousand spheres of experience the general public does not share in common. There are small worlds of experience in every comer of our society that the rest of us know nothing about... the worlds of the engineer, the plumber, the insurance salesperson, and the farmer nowadays are in large measure self-contained. Should any one of these people write for the layperson... he or she would have much to explain. This is sharply different from antiquity.

(Malina and Rohrbaugh 1998:17)

 

John depicts an anti-society, `a social structure based on interpersonal relationships, on persons and their significance, on mutual trust and group loyatty' (Malina and Rohrtiaugh 1998:47). Members of this in-group `have hearts full of light. They have been bom of God's power, and are Spirit-filled, really alive, truthful, and open to God'. (Malina and Rohrbaugh 1998:47). Members of the out-group, `on the other hand, have hearts full of darkness. They have been born of human desire, and they are simply human. For all practical purposes, they are already dead. They speak only falsehoods, are tied to earthly experiences, and are deceived by Satan and succumb to his loyalty tests. They are Judeans, devoted to the social symbols located in Judea ( Jerusalem and the temple), forming Israelite society at large'. (Malina and Rohrbaugh 1998:47).

The Jerusalem temple is a symbol of the Judean world-view. It is hierarchical, its concentric courts representing the ten degrees of holiness:

The land of Israel is holier than any other land.... The walled cities (of the land of Israel ) are still more holy... Within the walls (of Jerusalem ) is still more holy... The Temple Mount is still more holy.... the Rampart is still more holy... The Court of the Women is still more holy ...The Court of the Israelites is still more holy ...The Court of the Priests is still more holy.. Between the Porch and the Attar is still more holy... The Sanctuary is still more holy... The holy of holies is still more holy. _..

(Malina and Rohrbaugh 1998:78)

The temple was also politically and economically significant: ` Jerusalem was the centre of Israel 's political economy. This meant that the roles, goals and values of the polity serve to articulate and express economics.... 1N-dh large treasuries and storehouses for material of all sorts, the temple functioned somewhat like a national bank and storage depot. It became the repository of large quantities of money and goods extracted from the surplus product of the peasant economy`. (Malina and Rohrbaugh 1998:78).

Lindars (1990) provides a general treatment of John. A particular aspect of importance and relevance is the matter of personal relationship with God and the life that that relationship constitutes. A major component in the Gospel is the discourse material, including the farewell discourse of which chapters 1416 are part. This material may have emanated from homiletic sources. The foundational relationship is that of Jesus with the Father, which is one of absolute union. Thus the death of Jesus is not atonement but what happens as a result of the union of a totally human person with God. The totally human Jesus engages with the realities of life and the world and faces them to their farthest limits.

The consequence for human beings is life in relationship with God or, to put it another way, etemal life becomes both a present reality and a future promise. Lindars maintains that all religion is quest for `life'. The life that Christianity offers is life with God through the work of Jesus and the actions of the Paraclete or Holy Spirit. In today's context, `life' can be interpreted as `the deepest aspirations of every individual reader'. (Lindars 1990:99). Such fulfilled life surpasses in quality everything lived under `law'.

Dodd (1968, 1973), in his strategic work, draws attention to matters, which are relevant to the purpose of this dissertation. Some of them are commented upon here:

·        The notion of `truth' arises in, for example, 14:6 `I am the way, and the truth, and the life' and 8:32 `you will know the truth and the truth will make you free'. The truth means that which is truly real and which corresponds with the fads, the ultimately real_ Truth and reality tend to run together. These texts are concerned with the Truth, the eternal reality, declared by Christ. Knowing such truth involves being united in some sort with Him who is the truth.

·        Chapter 14 is concerned with the relationships between Jesus and the Father and between Jesus and his disciples. Each of these relationships creates a community of life, life shared. The idea continues in 15:1-12 where the imagery of branch and vine is used: the former is in-grafted by the vinedresser into the latter. A triangle of relations is completed: `the Father, the Son and the disciples all dwell in one another by virtue of a love that is the very life and the activity of God. In the Father, it is the love that gave the Son for the world; in the Son it is the love that brings forth perfect obedience to the Father's will, and lays down life for the disciples; in the disciples it is the love that leads them to obey His command and to love one another, and by their obedience the Father is glorified in the Son'. (Dodd 1973:196).

 

8.4 General Biblical Theology texts

Two groups of people are considered here, colonialists and prisoners; both are involved in contention and raise acute questions about relationships.

Because Tasmania is a former colonial territory, it is considered appropriate at this point to give some consideration to the work of Prior (1997) on colonialism. In Prior's view, the essential issue is that the colonialists misunderstood their own identity and misinterpreted biblical texts. In effect, they created darkness.

Colonisation by European countries gave rise to a rhetoric `that the adventurous Europeans pioneered in a savage wilderness and brought civilization to it. They saw themselves as bringing the true light and recreating the true society. Such myths disguise the truth that Europe 's glory was gained at the expense of the tragedy of the indigenous populations.' (Prior 1997:176).

A mythology developed that Europeans had the right to conquer and settle a land for some combination of the following reasons:

1   The land was in a virgin state........... (the `virgin land' or wilderness theory).

2 The people (to be) conquered were of an inferior status, and the colonisers enjoyed an inalienable right to resist opposition from the indigenes (the myth of self-defence).

3 The mission to civilise or evangelise.

4 The enterprise was legitimised by appealing to such an unchallenged ideological motivation....

(Prior 1997:177)

Prior maintains that part of the problem of colonialism lay in its selective and mistaken interpretation of biblical material, including Genesis. The true interpretation, as he sees it, is that the universalism of chapters 1-11 is followed by the development of the Chosen People - the Promised Land paradigm. The mistaken interpretation was for the colonisers to identify themselves with the Chosen People without also embracing the universalism. A second major problem arises for Prior in the, to him, erroneous belief that the patriarchal narratives of Genesis, ie from 11:10 to the end of the book, have a solid historical base. They are invested with the authority of history. Prior inclines to the view that they are creations of the Persian period. In that period, which includes Nehemiah's time, the pure stream that has been sent into exile returns to stake its rightful claim on the land.°

The making of such restorations, whether under Cyrus or Victoria, is the true function of empire: `The Persian texts, in particular, represent Cyrus as understanding the restoration of the peoples and their gods as the primary function of empire. His successors determined to centralise their control by a `restoration' of the indigenous traditions of subject peoples........... This period is the most likely context for the biblical narrative of Genesis­Kings.' (Prior 1997:241).

Prior's central concem is to warn of the danger and en-or of using the Bible selectively as a legitimating text for behaviour which is immoral. `Biblical scholars have the most serious obligation to prevent outrages being perpetrated in the name of fidelity to the biblical covenant. The application of the Bible in the defence of the Crusades, Spanish and Portuguese colonialism, South African Apartheid and political Zion ism5 has been a calamity leading to the suffering and humiliation of millions of people, and to the loss of respect for the Bible as having something significant to contribute to humanity.' (Prior 1997:292).

 

Prison buildings and the lives of prisoners are significant in Chelmsford and Tasmania .

 

In Prisons: A Study in Vulnerability (1999), the Board of Social Responsibility of the Church of England noted that on 31 January 1999, 23 614 male prisoners were occupying 19 691 places. This represented 20% overcrowding on average but considerably more than average in some places. Prisoners were constantly being moved, sometimes far from home and family, to ensure optimal use of accommodation. These situations, combined with staff reductions, reductions in the education service and increased time spent in cells, added to vulnerability.

In relation to mentally disordered offenders, Cummings (1999) says 'Scant resources compound the difficulties in achieving an environment where individuals are contained, supported, provided for, and given as healthy a lifestyle as possible'. (Cummings 1999:60).

In an Appendix to Cummings' essay, the Church Times shows how the general issue becomes local:

 

In November 1994,....... Christopher had been arrested for a minor public order offence. After a brief court appearance the following morning he was remanded in custody in Chelmsford Prison. Twenty-four hours later he had been kicked to death by his cellmate.

Christopher Edwards was mentally ill and so was the man who murdered him....

 

 

[Christopher's father said] `Prisons are awful places, and to send someone who is mentally ill into that environment is disastrous. Yet    they are  dosing mental hospitals and building more prisons all the time'.

(Cummings 1999:66-7) 

 

There is much about this case that cannot be said here, much of it to do with social and professional policies rather than built environment. But the story of these two men illustrates clearly and painfully how the built environment is the expression and instrument of value systems.

 

8.5 General Built Environment texts

Brief consideration is given here to two texts. Brill is concerned with the practice of place making and Short with city making. Both insist on the identification of the people involved.

Brill (1994) is concerned with typological aspects of place making and therefore, by implication, with the creation of identities. The act of place making must, he maintains, be made to feel central to our humanness. Place making must be given clear links to some of humanity's basic questions:

Who are we?

Where have we come from?

Where should we go?

What does it all mean?

 

He goes so far as to suggest that architecture and landscape architecture might be taught

'as if they were a branch of the humanities, one of those ways we present ourselves to ourselves, like ethics, history and philosophy.'                                (Brill 1994:77).

Short (1991) is clear in his thesis: 'Cities should be places where ordinary citizens can lead dignified and creative lives'. (Short 1989:1). Ordinary citizens do not get the best from their cities because capital, power and `some people' exercise disproportionate influence. Short admits to being an idealist. He struggles to identify a socio-economic model for the future that lies beyond liberalism, welfare and the capitalism versus socialism dichotomy. `Recent years', he says, `have witnessed an increasing use of the word "crisis °..... The ambivalent nature of what [crisis] describes is captured in Chinese where the word is composed of two figures: one signifies danger, the other signifies opportunity.' (Short 1991:137).

Following Short, the struggle, it may be said, is to mould cities in ways that give identity and opportunities to ordinary citizens.

 

8.6 Chelmsford

The following stories, related to building, enable one to ask about identities and relationships. They relate to the poor and homeless, prisoners, building workers, some unnamed, and their relationships with the powerful in society.

Prior to an Act of 1553 the condition of the poor, needy and homeless was a matter of private charity, but in 1553 it became a parish responsibility and a matter of compulsory rates. By the 1570's the leper hospital in Moulsham had become known as the `poor house'. Four cottages in Duke Street opposite the churchyard were administered by the churchwardens as almshouses but by 1605 three of them had been lost through disputes over title. Charity was, as Grieve recalls, still necessary:

Occasionally Sir Thomas Mildmay as lord of the manor intervened to house the poor. In 1582, `of his grace and mercy, at the humble request of divers tenants', he granted a small piece of waste, sixty feet by twelve, lo build a cottage on, or place to live', to Edward Nicoll, a poor man; and another piece `of his charity', seventy-two feet by fourteen, to Thomas Brooke, a poor mason, to build a dwelling on `for the relief and comfort of him and his family'.

(Grieve 1988:148)

 

Grieve sets out details of the Great Gaol Debate that began in 1767. At that time, the town gaol was a timber structure, formerly an inn, immediately adjacent to the Stone Bridge . A decision had to be made on whether to restore it or pull it down and rebuild. Whatever was done would necessitate a parliamentary Bill. The first proposal was to purchase the White Horse inn, demolish it and build on its site but as its owner was a minor this proved impossible.

The second proposal, put forward by an eminent London surveyor George Dance, was to purchase some property adjoining the existing gaol, demolish it, rebuild part of the new gaol on it, transfer the inmates, demolish the existing gaol and complete the new building. Opposition to this was led by a group who wanted the gaol nearer to the courthouse, which meant it would be nearer to the market. A Town Petition argued that this would be detrimental to property and trade. The argument was transferred to parliament. A Bill was brought in to facilitate acquiring and building on the alternative site. Both its opponents among the magistrates and gentry and the inhabitants of Chelmsford opposed it. As no witnesses appeared to support the Bill, the parliamentary committee amended it to accommodate Dance's original proposals for extending and using the existing gaol site.

This however was not the end as the supporters of the White Horse proposal brought in William Hillyer, a rival surveyor, at this juncture to criticize Dance's proposals: "He holds Mr Dance very cheap and says he is only a good pencil man that understands nothing of estimates or work ......" (Grieve 1994:158). Hillyer assured his sponsors that he could design a gaol on the White Horse site, which would not `be dangerous or obnoxious to the town". (Grieve 1994:158). The landowners, farmers and graziers numbering 1200 then protested about the potential toss to them of the hospitality of the White Horse on market day, the risk of spreading gaol distemper to the public and the cost of water supply to a new gaol. Sir William Mildmay, the principal opponent of the White Horse option, defended his property rights in the market area and Rector Tindal argued against it on the grounds that nothing should be done to put the town's water supply at risk,

The parliamentary committee was faced with a petition and design presented by Hillier and five counter-petitions. The strongest evidence was that of Dr Benjamin Pugh MD who argued that the "Old Spot` by the river at Moulsham gave rise to only four deaths a year, the deep river made the disposal of fifth speedy and the river made the extinguishing of fires in the gaol an easy matter. Most strongly of all he argued for maintaining the cleanliness at all costs of the water conduit through the town:

I look upon the town of Chelmsford in it's present state, to be a remarkable healthy town, and I believe it is chiefly owing to that current of water running through the middle of it; for the town of Chelmsford lies very low; two rivers run on each said [side] of it, chiefly surrounded by low meadows and many stagnate ditches. Therefore the exhalations from the rivers, meadows and ditches must be very great, and would certainly form a large body of stagnate air in that large street, which must soon be very unhealthy. But this current of water puts that air into continual motion, and carries it off. If not from the conduit, how do you apprehend water can be brought to the White Horse inn? I believe from no other place but from Burgess-well, the fountainhead of the conduit of Chelmsford ...

(Grieve 1994:163)

 

This evidence won the day; the gaol was rebuilt on its existing but extended site and the public water supply introduced by the Friars was maintained.

Lewis explains that by the 1820's a new prison was needed. A site of six acres at Springfield was purchased from Lady Mildmay. Thomas Hopper, the County Surveyor , was responsible for the project. The first brick was laid on 22 October 1822 . The construction took three years, part of it being carried out by convict labour. Hopper was paid £1000 by the Justices for his efforts in constructing the new gaol and his clerk of works, Stephen Webb, £50.

Lewis comments on breakout attempts that took place in 1829, 1836 and 1837. For some of those who attempted escape, the penalty was transfer via Romfond and Mile End to Portsmouth , and thence transportation - some to Western Australia - until it ceased over a period of years from 1857.       When houses were built in the neighbouring Randulph Terrace, using the local white Mildmay brick, the occupiers petitioned to use the gaol sewers. Permission was, it seems, not granted.

In the construction of large houses, the architect John Johnson had relationships with individually identified owners such as Strutt at Teriing8, Bramston at Skreens in Roxwell, and Brograve at Springfield Place . At Terling the builders were led by Matthew Hall, carpenter and main contractor, Thomas Wray, mason, William Evans, bricklayer, and Sarah Fenton, slater. Relationships would have involved money, the total cost of the project being £5500. Johnson's fee was £275. Bramston had recommended him to Strutt on the grounds that he was `exceedingly honest, cheap and ingenious'. (Briggs 1991:20). He may have had a tendency to be too cheap because he came very near to bankruptcy. While it would be improper to judge Johnson by later ideas of what constitutes probity, there must have been tension in the fad that Johnson's son ran a building business in Marylebone which undertook works such as the brickwork on the Shire Hall

The following story shows what controversy and dispute can be like:

Work began in eariy August on the windows and doors at the side, but in September Johnson's London foreman gave the Brograves an estimate for sashes in mahogany instead of wainscot, which another carpenter considered excessive_ When Brograve pointed this out, Johnson took offence. By 22 November Brograve was complaining that after four months' work the job appeared only half done; he had given the foreman notice and was inclined to call for Johnson's account. [After acrimonious exchanges] Johnson submitted his account, including a charge for surveying and making a plan of the house and a design for altering the drawing room, which Brograve claimed he had not ordered. He continued to demand an assurance that the sashes, which were also ill fitting, contained London crown glass. In replying on 28 December, Johnson agreed that all except six ovolo sashes had been glazed with the best Newcastle crown glass, generally considered to be superior to average quality London glass. Johnson's offer to join Bramston and Strutt, `your particular friends and Neighbours', with a professional surveyor in an arbitration was eventually accepted by Brograve.      ,

(Briggs 1991:43-44)

 

To the modem mind there is some disquiet about the fad that Johnson had both private clients such as the various house- and landowners, while at the same time being county surveyor, responsible for projects such as bridges. To us, ' County Surveyor ' implies a public office, separated from commercial practice. But in Johnson's time that point had not been reached for any built environment-related profession.

Further insights into identity can be gained in relation to industrial buildings from the story of the Marconi factory in which owners, architects from London and a labour force of 500 reach their objective in seventeen weeks:

The town's former cricket ground alongside the railway line in New Street was purchased and designs for a new building were prepared by W Dunn and R Watson of London in January 1912. Within an astonishing seventeen weeks of that date, through the efforts of a huge workforce of 500, the wortd's first purpose-built radio factory was constructed. It is still there and in 1997 was listed as a Building of Special Architectural and Historical Interest.

(Lee 2001:8)

It is noticeable that in the case of the Marconi building, the architects are named but none of the five hundred workmen. They have no names or identity?

 

8.7 Tasmania

The place of the Aborigine people is so major that it is the only matter considered here.

The texts show that a major facet of aboriginal self-understanding, and therefore of identity, is based on the indissoluble relationship between a people and their land. The relationship with the land gives rise to the relationship between people. European misunderstanding of that relationship was not a misunderstanding or dispute about ownership. It was misunderstanding of a fundamental relationship and identity.

Pike says, `To Aborigines the ground is not just something we walk upon. It is our total environment. It is the mountains, rivers, sun, moon and stars - the entire cosmos'. (Pike 1999:30). Fusescu, in a briefing for the Tasmanian Parliament, says: `Land has traditionally been the basis of Aboriginal identity. An individual's obligations in relation to preserving land cannot be relinquished... Relationships with the group spring from this fundamental relationship with the land'. (Fusesca 2000:1).

Living in relation to the land includes making shelter. Plomley (1983) notes that shelters appear to have ranged in type from an open lean-to to others which, in order to give greater protection in exposed areas, were constructed from several layers of material and having doorways. Archer notes that `The prevailing type in the south is or was the bark... breakwind, formed by sheets of bark arched over, or by boughs or both. This afforded little shelter, but the open side was turned round so that it was away from the wind, thus sheltering the fire'. (Archer 1996:1). Archer emphasises further that 'The two traditional shelters of an Aboriginal camp are the yu (windbreak) and the wiltja (literally shade).... Neither in itself is a dwelling... The fire, not the yu or the wiltja, symbolises the place of dwelling'. (Archer 1996:17). Roth (1899), in a comprehensive review of the work of earlier authors, speaks of the shelters that were vacated with the arrival of fine weather as `frail' habitations.

Cowan (2000) gives a fuller insight into the aboriginal approach to land. The Aborigines, he explains, are nomads with a nomadic understanding of space and time. They are not confined to living in one place. For them time consists of 'swift-perishing, never to be repeated moment[s]' (Cowan 2000:116), lived in the presence of the eternal. These perceptions of space and time are non-architectural and non-mathematical. They are at odds with those of sedentary peoples. `The cultural history of sedentary peoples is one of confronting the idea of wilderness and containing it so that it conforms to defined canons of measure'. (Cowan 2000:116-7). Aboriginal people do not confront the worid in that way. Thus they do not need buildings and towns to protect them from the confronted environment. As there is no need for permanent structures, shelters can be abandoned as soon as the immediate need for them has ended.

This ancient, organic connededness between cosmos, land, shelter, fire and dwelling was acutely disrupted by some of the activities of Europeans in the nineteenth century. Attwood (2000) describes how a European approach to the creation of a built environment was imposed in one particular place across the Bass Strait in Victoria at Ramahyuck, or Lake Wellington . A Moravian mission station was created that 'vas to be didactic landscape, which, on the one hand, would convey an ideal of what they wanted Aboriginal people to become, and, on the other, be an instrument which would mould Aboriginals according to this ideal'. (Attwood 2000:43). The design was as follows:

The roomy mission house was situated at the head of the village and was by far the largest building on the station; it was a symbol... of.... power:

The mission house, the church, the school and the boarding house [for children] were boarded off from the rest of the mission settlement by a white paling fence. This construction of precisely fixed posts and rails was not only an unambiguous statement of the missionary desire to impose their order on Aborigine people; it was also... a way of separating Aboriginal children from contact with their parents and elderly kin, and to prevent the transition of cultural knowledge.

(Attwood 2000:45)

 

In the boarding house there was to be no communication between boys and girls' accommodation. This was contradictory to Aboriginal tradition that keeps children together until the onset of puberty. Within dormitories there were high partitions between beds. In straight rows on two parallel sides of the Village Green were twelve cottages. This design was to identify the roles and responsibilities of the individual, rather than of community. The individual was to replace the group as the fundamental moral arbiter. Young Aboriginal men converted to Christianity were persuaded to build their own individual houses, even though they might not have furniture to put in them. A generation grew up in this situation, knowing no other. The saving grace, perhaps, was that another world was close by:

Ramahyack... [was] located on the edge of another spatial worfd, that of the river, lake and bush, a seascape and a landscape which, for some time, retained familiar meanings and from which Aboriginals continued to draw sustenance.

(Attwood 2000:54)

 

Boyce points out that `the Church of England in Tasmania was a partner in the dispossession of the Tasmanian Aboriginal people through its support and legitimisation of the conquest of their land. (Boyce 200021). Hughes does not mince his words: `It took less than seventy-five years of white settlement to wipe out most of the people who had occupied Tasmania for some thirty thousand years; it was the only true genocide in English colonial history'. (Hughes 1996:120). `Genocide' is a strong word. Cowan (2000) also uses it. He says that after the demise of the Karadji, the aboriginal cultural exemplar, `the way was open for white authorities.... to undermine the cultural and religious stability of aboriginal society altogether by supplanting [it].... with a more prosaic `Christian' ethic designed to encourage aboriginal assimilation. It was a policy of cultural genocide that has in consequence all but wiped out traditional Aboriginal life in Australia '. (Cowan 2000:16).

Price, a Tasmanian Aborigine, has written on Aboriginal housing matters, as they were experienced in Launceston between 1970 and 1979. For sometime she worked with the Tasmanian Aboriginal Centre. In relation to her own childhood she says that her `earliest memories are of a dwelling, situated near a creek, that consisted of three rooms in a weatherboar

d construction'. (Price 2000:158). Her father was in hospital for the first five years of her life because a building had collapsed on him. She visited Aborigine homes and houses, which authorities intended to purchase for Aborigine occupation. For a time she was a member of the Department of Housing's Aboriginal Housing Policy Committee: `[It] only seemed to meet when a house was to be allocated to an Aboriginal family. We would meet, look at the waiting list and decide on the priority, but if the director didn't agree, then that family would not get the house. There was no one in the Department who had any idea about Aboriginal issues.' (Price 2000:163)

Sanders concludes the text on Australian Indigenous Housing on the following note of realism and hope:

The history of indigenous housing in Australia is not yet finished and is not all bad. There is cause for hope that better, more workable resolutions of indigenous peoples' different and diverse requirements for housing can be worked through in the future. The process will not be easy, but then few historical processes are which involve the interaction of such different societies.

(Sanders 2000248)

 

8.8 Synthesis and centrifugal dynamic  

This Section, and the dynamic cone represented by it, has been particulariy powerful.

The biblical scene quickly moves from the lakeside at Bethsaida to Jerusalem and fierce encounters between Jesus and the Jews. A newly sighted man, blind from birth, wonders what has happened in his life, what has taken place in the great Temple building. A short­time later, in Jerusalem in the evening, the men from Bethsaida and similar almost unknown places find themselves in a room engaged in discussions that go into depths beyond anything they have previously experienced.

Koester links the experience of blindness giving way to sightedness to the Feast of Tabernacles and the great ceremonies of light. Malina and Rohrbaugh see the altercations in the Temple as encounters between a dosed, tight society in which all was familiar, with a new, drastically different anti-society where nothing was clear and everything had to be explained, argued through and either accepted or rejected. Lindars makes clear aspects of deep relationship. Dodd points to the mysteries of ultimate truth and of human beings being in-grafted by love into relationship with God.

The power of this light, anti-society, relationship, and truth and love, well up in Prior's critique of the misunderstandings and errors of colonialism into which Chelmsford and Tasmania are by history in-grafted. That colonial culture created built environments in Australia and elsewhere that brought harm and darkness to Aborigine people. Today's church finds itself in a state of repentance for what was done and what was built.

 

Prisoners and prisons are another kind of society within a society. Chelmsford argued about where to build its new prison and Charles Meredith from his tiny Tasmanian office struggled to keep convicts under discipline, while his family experienced living first in the darkness of the Tasmanian bush and then in the light of their beachside home.

The centrifugal force comes across powerfully and chillingly, not only from the theology but from the built environment materials themselves, in the questions posed by Brill, slightly rephrased:

Who are these people?

Where have they come from?

Where are they going?

What do their lives mean?

The answers are written in the stones of the Temple , in the bricks and mortar of Chelmsford and in the timber buildings of Tasmania and similarly affected places. 

A second, more mundane thread comes into the Section. Poor people in Chelmsford need housing; the Mildmay family responds in a philanthropic, and to us patronising, way. Rich men and their architects dispute about money and detail, symbols of their identities and relationships.

 

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