God’s Goodness Within

22 Nov 2025 By in Autobiographical, Religion Tags: , , , , 4 Comments
Interior view of All Saints' Cathedral in Milwaukee, showcasing wooden pews, arched ceilings, stained glass windows, and an organ in the loft.

In this stewardship talk I gave on November 2 at my church, All Saints’ Episcopal Cathedral in Milwaukee, I reflect on the meaning of church-going, a practice that has dwindled among Americans.

My name is Susan Barsy, and I appreciate this opportunity to reflect on the meaning of worshipping here at All Saints and to say why giving to the church is fundamental to our life of faith.  I’ve come up with a single phrase to describe the nature of my love-affair with All Saints, why I have made it my spiritual home, and that phrase is “God’s goodness within.”

This year, someone suggested that I try keeping a gratitude journal.  To be honest, it seemed kind of hokey, but, given that 2025 has been a wee bit demoralizing, I decided to give it a go.  The results were truly remarkable.  At first I struggled to recall the ephemeral gifts that came my way each day, but, once I got the hang of it, my stingy acknowledgements of life’s blessings widened into a flood.  The birds in the yard, my mother’s face when she looked at a tree turning color, a recipe that turned out when I needed it to: my thanks-giving grew encyclopedic.  It was colorful and ever-changing: goodness alive!

Plus, as a narrative, the contrast with my other journal couldn’t have been more startling.  My other journal (which I’m very proud of, by the way) is a well-written account of disappointment and perplexity, my shortcomings, and situations I’ll never understand!  Thank goodness for the gratitude-journal, with its snapshots of a benevolence pulsing through nature and human affairs.  I suppose my two journals are a complete statement of the human condition: one part keyed into goodness, the other part enmeshed in the bewilderment “out there.” 

As Christians we acknowledge God as the source of all goodness and blessings.  This church, which our forebears sacrificed to establish, is a holy sanctuary where God’s goodness dwells.  It may sound mystical, but I believe in the sanctity of this place, a consecrated space where we draw nearer to God and learn of God’s goodness anew.  When I’m in church, my consciousness of God and my place in creation is strengthened, through the readings, the thoughtful and affecting sermons, and the hymns we sing.  And, of course, your company uplifts me!   At All Saints, I can practice what I believe to be a true Christianity, for it is a place where every seeker can find refuge, renewal, absolution, and solace; where we become one body; and where we are all acknowledged as equal and precious in God’s eyes.

For “God’s goodness within” has a personal meaning, too.  God’s goodness is not just in this temple, but in each of us.  When one looks at the triptych that surmounts the high altar, one’s eyes are naturally drawn to the figure of the crucified Christ.  It’s easy to overlook the symbol of the Dove, the Holy Spirit, crowning the scene.  Each of us has gifts of the Spirit that are ours to cultivate and enjoy.  Worshipping here, learning from the sermons, and being inspired by the actions of this congregation, powerfully encourages me—even frees me—to respect the gifts I’ve been given and to take on the work it has been given me to do. 

To be honest, for decades I believed that goodness was a more or less automatic element in society.  Recently, I’ve grown concerned about where goodness comes from, because it suddenly seems to be in terribly short supply.  There’s nothing simple about goodness or Christianity.  The proper care of our souls is a lifelong endeavor, a ministry that is old and new every day.   At the moment, nothing is more urgent than nurturing the goodness inherent in God’s creation, in one another, and in ourselves.  There is a circular logic to my vision of the church, which, by sustaining, we realize God’s loving hope for all mankind.  

If you’re participating in this service, either here in church or remotely, you are already launched on your faith journey.  You’re already aware of the truth of what I say.  As Advent approaches and with it the start of the new liturgical year, it is customary to consider our role as All Saints’ stewards.  I hope that as you reflect on what you have to give to the church, you will see your offerings as foundational to our life of worship, and as a deeply rewarding means of growing God’s goodness in dark times.    Thank you.

Washington Liberates New York City

9 Sep 2025 By in History, The Social Life of Politics Tags: , , ,
A historical illustration depicting George Washington's triumphant entry into New York City on November 25, 1783, with a crowd of people celebrating and an American flag waving.

This print from the mid-nineteenth century is a vivid reminder that George Washington had a pre-history with New York City, prior to his 1789 presidential inauguration at Federal Hall. The print commemorates “Evacuation Day,” when, on November 25, 1783, Continental troops under General Washington entered the city in triumph, officially marking the end of its occupation by the British during the Revolutionary War. Given that the British had controlled the city for seven years, ruling it under martial law, the rejoicing was general and profound. New Yorkers continued to celebrate Evacuation Day for over 100 years.

This representation of “Washington’s Triumphal Entry Into New York,” was the work of Christian Inger, a German emigre who settled in Philadelphia in the 1850s and worked as a lithographer.

Image: courtesy of the Library Company of Philadelphia.

The Great Seal on Federal Hall

19 Aug 2025 By in History, The Social Life of Politics Tags: , , ,
Engraving of the Federal Edifice in New York, showcasing its front façade with a clock tower and intricate architectural details.

In 1789, Philadelphia’s Columbian Magazine published this “View of the Federal Edifice in New York.” It’s one of a handful of extant contemporary depictions of the defunct Federal Hall, showing its location at the T where Nassau intersects with Wall Street in Manhattan’s First Ward. This engraving captures the appearance of the building in the year George Washington was inaugurated on its balcony.

The most notable feature of the print is its rendering of the Great Seal, particularly the rendering’s inaccuracy. Here, the eagle rises above the shield and a free-floating olive branch: this is substantially wrong. (cf. the previous post on the Great Seal). The artist either drew the Seal wrong from memory or neglected even to study this feature of the building in person. Maybe he copied from another artist. It’s also possible that the Great Seal was improperly rendered on the building itself.

In any event, this illustration is a significant reminder that the Great Seal was newly invented and its features not well-known to Americans when federalism under the Constitution got going in 1789. It also highlights the ambiguity of much documentary “evidence.”

Image: from this source

Charles Thomson and The Great Seal of the United States

12 Aug 2025 By in History, The Social Life of Politics Tags: , , , , , ,
An artistic depiction of a bald eagle with outstretched wings, holding a shield featuring three horizontal stripes and a branch in one talon. Above, there is a banner reading 'E Pluribus Unum' and a starry sky.

Judging from depictions of Federal Hall that I’ve been discussing, some version of the Great Seal of the United States crowned Federal Hall. Every view of the long-defunct building shows some version of the Great Seal as the dominant feature of the pediment. This is noteworthy, because, when the pediment was created in 1788, the “Great Seal” itself was just a few years old.

The tricky business of coming up with symbols to express American nationhood began during the Revolution (1775-1783), when officials of the Continental Congress felt the practical need for a iconography to represent unity. The symbols they came up with were often clumsy: first stabs at projecting power, capturing the unique identity of the United States, and distinguishing their new self-governing nation from old European monarchies. This new symbolic language, marking the states’ rapid transition to a nation, appeared on currency, official documents, flags, military insignia, and eventually buildings.

Charles Thomson, a Philadelphian who served as Congress’s secretary, designed the Great Seal in collaboration with William Barton, an attorney who had made a study of heraldry. According to historian Ben Irvin, in his Clothed In Robes of Sovereignty: The Continental Congress and the People Out of Doors, Thomson and Barton were the first to come up with the combination of the eagle and the shield, which are the essence of the Great Seal. Congress officially adopted the seal on June 30, 1782.

Thomson and Barton’s design incorporated much of the iconography popularized during the war, including the red and white stripes on a field of blue; the number thirteen, as manifest in the bundle of arrows; and the ‘new constellation’ of stars. The eagle, however, was an innovation, and in certain respects a curious one.

Irvin goes on to explain that, in 1775, Ben Franklin had issued a three-dollar bill as Continental currency, depicting Britain as an eagle and America as “a weaker bird.” Franklin despised Thomson and Barton’s choice of the eagle to depict the newly independent nation, arguing that the eagle was a scavenger, “a Bird of bad moral Character. He does not get his Living honestly.” Should the new United States be depicted as predatory?

Others, however, approved of the eagle, viewing it as “a symbol of empire.” Even then, some Americans were thinking of the United States in imperial terms. As for Barton, who first proposed the eagle, he assigned it a different, very specific meaning. Barton explained that his eagle was the “Symbol of supreme Power & and Authority, and signifies the Congress.” Note that the official seal predates the Constitution and the creation of the presidency.

Despite early federalism’s structural weaknesses, the Great Seal signified the aspirations of a new, self-governing people—to rule themselves through the mechanism of Congress. It has proved an enduring ideal. This aspiration was integrated into the face of the building where the First Congress met. It’s something to ponder as we gaze on the modern version of the Great Seal of the United States, prominently displayed on the dais where President Trump stands.

Image: from this source.

Holland’s Street View of Federal Hall

5 Aug 2025 By in History, The Social Life of Politics Tags: , , , , ,
A historical illustration of Federal Hall in New York City, featuring various architectural styles and buildings lining a street, dated 1827.

This is an important late 18th-century view of New York’s Federal Hall, showing the style of adjacent buildings. Tiny print on the lower left side explains that this lithograph, published by C. Currier, was based on a drawing by George Holland made in 1797. The process of lithography came into use only several decades later, facilitating the mechanical production of works in color. This one was made by Charles Currier, who, like his more famous brother Nathaniel, was a skilled printer whose work met the public’s appetite for American scenes.

Here, the colors of the print accentuate the contrast between Federal Hall’s refined facade and the more utilitarian mercantile establishments that typified the neighborhood around Wall Street.

It’s worth noting that during the Revolution, the British army had attacked and occupied New York City. Much of the old city was destroyed, and its population shrank. By the time of the Founding, the city had come roaring back. Building boomed, and the population tripled to some 30,000 people. Many of the buildings in this scene were likely rehabbed or new, just like the newly refurbished Federal Hall.

Holland’s drawing captures the modern yet workaday character of the neighborhood where the Congress first convened under the Constitution. Yet, Federal Hall had likely been destroyed by the time Currier’s lithograph appeared. Other features of the scene endure today, notably Trinity Church, whose spire is visible at left.

Image: from this source.