Hidden amongst the bustling streets of Kohimarama lies Saint Thomas Anglican, a church twice built, a testament to the enduring spirit of faith. Saint Thomas Anglican isn’t just a building; it’s a story etched in stone and whispered through time. The original Saint Thomas Anglican, conceived in 1843, was a dream woven from the hopes of 24 Tamaki residents. These early settlers, a mix of farmers, traders, and pioneers, yearned for a local place of worship, a spiritual anchor in their remote community. Bishop Selwyn, a man whose vision extended beyond the horizon, answered their call, matching their contributions pound for pound. Alexander Shepherd, the Colonial Treasurer, though Presbyterian, generously donated the land, a six-acre knoll overlooking the verdant Tamaki landscape. The foundation stone was laid on St. Thomas’s Day, December 21st, 1843, a moment of unity for the town and country inhabitants. Built of basalt rock from Mount Wellington and sand from Mission Bay, Saint Thomas Anglican stood as a beacon of faith. Its high-pitched shingled roof, brought from the Coromandel Peninsula, dominated the skyline. The church wasn’t just a sanctuary; it was a potential refuge, its stone walls rumored to be loophole-ready for defense against Maori tribes. The first service, held on December 22nd, 1844, resonated with the voices of settlers, officers of HMS Hazard, and Auckland townsfolk, all united in prayer. The native students of St. John’s College added to the solemnity, chanting the Gloria Patri and singing the 100th Psalm in English. Bishop Selwyn, a charismatic figure, often graced the pulpit of Saint Thomas Anglican. His sermons were legendary, his passion moving him literally down the aisle as he spoke. However, Saint Thomas Anglican, like its sister church St. Stephen’s Chapel, was destined for a premature end. The soft basalt and the salty seawater used in the mortar proved a fatal flaw. The stonework crumbled, and by 1859, the church was deemed unsafe, abandoned to the creeping ivy planted to hold its failing walls together. Parishioners returned to the chapel at St. John’s College, a reversal of the earlier pilgrimage when the college community worshipped at Saint Thomas Anglican. The roof collapsed in 1905, and the ruins, deemed unsafe, were demolished in 1954. But the story doesn’t end there. In 1957, a new Saint Thomas Anglican rose from the ashes, thanks to the generosity of William Stevenson. Built in a style echoing the original, it stands as a symbol of resilience and renewed faith. Some of the original stones were incorporated into the altar, others scattered in the gardens, a tangible link to the past. Even a sprig of ivy, perhaps a descendant of the creeper planted to hold the old walls together, can be found, clinging to life amongst the volcanic rock. The headstones from the overgrown graveyard now stand in an orderly row, a quiet tribute to the pioneers who rested there. One weathered stone, lying horizontal, marks the grave of Dame Annie White, the first burial in 1845. Saint Thomas Anglican today is more than a church. It’s a community hub, echoing Bishop Selwyn’s vision of a place where faith and community intertwine.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to