Three endangered churches in Harlem illuminate a nationwide dilemma.

Story by Lisa Selin Davis / Nov. 12, 2004

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St. Aloysius, built in 1904 in Harlem, could be named a city landmark. (St. Aloysius)

The last time a church in New York City achieved landmark status was in 1979, when St. Monica's in Jamaica, Queens, became a city landmark. Now, for the first time in 25 years, churches are on the city's Landmarks Preservation Commission's radar screen again, and this time, the focus is Harlem.

In September, the commission held a hearing to consider St. Aloysius and All Saints Roman Catholic churches. All Saints was designed by James Renwick, Jr. in 1872, in high Victorian-gothic style, and William Renwick designed St. Aloysius in 1904.

"They're beautiful churches," says Simeon Bankoff, executive director of the Historic Districts Council. "They're astonishing ecclesiastical structures, and they should be protected."

But at the meeting, supporters of Harlem's endangered St. Thomas the Apostle church raised their voices, and now it, too, may be considered. Thomas Poole's 1907 design of St. Thomas the Apostle is, in the words of the AIA Guide to New York, "berserk eclecticism reminiscent of the filigrees of Milan's cathedral or of many Flemish or Venetian fantasies."

Mass at St. Thomas before it closed last year

Despite the cathedral's beauty, the Archdiocese of New York closed its neo-gothic doors on Aug. 3, 2003, citing a need for $5 million worth of repairs (a figure many preservationists refute) and dwindling attendance.

"We're dealing with a church that had a very, very small congregation," says Joseph Zwilling, a spokesperson for the Archdiocese of New York. But Bankoff says the church's under-use is a chicken-and-egg situation. "The reason they're not using it is that the church locked the doors," he says.

Architecturally, the three Harlem churches meet the commission's criteria for landmarking: special character or special historical or aesthetic interest. But that's only part of the churches' significance. "They tell the story of immigrants to this country who were poor and who were unable to manifest any kind of individual pride in terms of places they were forced to live in," says Michael Henry Adams, a Harlem architectural historian of Harlem and author of Harlem: Lost and Found. "But they were able to manifest a group pride by building these great buildings as an indication of their faith in God and also the opportunities of this great country. They're symbols of the promise of America."

The greatest hurdle in saving Harlem churches might not be the long and arduous landmark process but the Catholic Church itself, which faces a serious crisis. According to Kenneth Jones' Index of Leading Catholic Indicators, there were 58,000 priests in 1965 and only 45,000 in 2002. The number of priestless parishes rose from 549 in 1965 to nearly 3,000 in 2002. Between 65 and 75 percent of practicing Catholics attended Sunday mass regularly in 1965; now the number has dwindled to 25 percent.

The result is a downsizing epidemic. The St. Louis Archdiocese will close two Catholic churches listed on the National Register of Historic Places. Five Chicago parishes are slated for closure, and in Boston, the Archdiocese listed 59 closing parishes on its Web site. The New York Archdiocese has closed or consolidated several churches already, and it is undertaking a massive "reorganization plan" for its 413 remaining churches—a move that could result in the loss of some of Harlem's most architecturally significant buildings.

In Harlem, more than 700 buildings have landmark status, but only a handful are churches. Both St. Aloysius and All Saints Roman Catholic church applied for landmark status in the mid-1960s, not long after the commission formed and sat on its backlog for nearly 40 years. "These churches had been something the commission had been interested in for many years," says Diane Jackier, spokesperson for the Landmarks Preservation Commission.

Despite a continual wave of protests from parishioners and preservationists, who have been picketing for more than a year, the Archdiocese has decided to raze St. Thomas the Apostle and replace it with 57 units of senior housing. The project is estimated at $7 million, an amount the Archdiocese hopes will be covered by a grant from Housing and Urban Development. (Their first application has been withdrawn due to technical omissions, but the Archdiocese plans to resubmit the application soon).

"Churches are expressions of faith, and St. Thomas is a particularly beautiful example of it," says Anthony Flood, who launched a Web site, anti-abomination.com, to help save the church. "We want to preserve the building not just because it's aesthetically beautiful but because it's a historical marker of a spiritual walk through time."

Flood says the proposed demolition is a violation of the Church's Canon 1222: "If a church cannot in any way be used for divine worship and there is no possibility of its being restored, the diocesan Bishop may allow it to be used for some secular but not unbecoming purpose."

Bishops have the power to decide the fates of churches, both within the church and within civil law. The Religious Land Use and Institutionalized Persons Act of 2000 exempts houses of worship and other religious institutions from zoning and landmarking laws.

"A church could potentially claim that it is free from preservation ordinances," says Bankoff. "That's why the landmarks commission is tentative about designating churches."

Even if the Landmarks Preservation Commission is hesitant to face off against churches that the Archdiocese won't upkeep, some preservationists feel the law is merely an expression of the Church's anti-preservationist bent. "The fact is that many religious organizations are anti-landmark," Bankoff says.

Zwilling denies that the church has any antipathy toward preservation or adaptive re-use. "We will always think about alternative uses," he says. "We will have to evaluate each one on their own merits." Zwilling points out that the pastors of St. Aloysius and All Saints lent their support at the Sept. 21 hearing. "We're on record and in print of supporting it in these cases."

Despite local support for two Harlem churches, many more will be closed in coming months. To fend off demolition, preservationists will have to provide creative ideas for adaptive re-use. "Churches have become schools, residences, other religious institutions," says Bankoff. "In Harlem, I'm sure any number of those storefront churches would love to move to a pre-existing ecclesiastical space."

Michael Henry Adams sees in St. Thomas an opportunity for a major Harlem tourist attraction on the scale of Notre Dame in Paris. His suggestion: convert the building into a Harlem jazz museum, develop market-rate housing in the adjoining rectory and school, and preserve a small part of the church for a chapel. "It's a win-win situation," he says.

In the meantime, the Historic Districts Council has organized an attempt at a pre-emptive strike against the impending closings by conducting surveys of churches in Manhattan. And the opposition to razing St. Thomas and other treasured churches has strengthened. On Sept. 29, parishioners filed papers at Manhattan state Supreme Court to block St. Thomas's demolition, a suit that's still pending. "We will respond in the courts at the appropriate time," Zwilling says.

The Landmarks Preservation Commission continues to ponder whether All Saints and St. Aloysius are worthy of landmark status, and despite the fact that St. Thomas has not been nominated, the commission is aware of its architectural and communal importance. In an Oct. 4 op-ed in the New York Times, commission Chairman Robert Tierney wrote, "The commission is sympathetic to those who wish to landmark St. Thomas the Apostle. … Although the church already has permits to alter the facade, we are fully committed to working with the Archdiocese and the community to preserve the building."

For now, it remains to be seen if Harlem will serve as an inspiration for preserving churches or just another version of Penn Station. "If all those buildings disappeared, it would be a great loss," Bankoff says. "Tragic."

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