December 10, 2004 (The Mosaic Stained-Glass Jesus, Part 2)

The Mosaic Stained Glass Jesus, Part 2.

On Wednesday, I received a phone call from the person who had previously complained to another staff member about the “Christian iconography” in the library.

“You mean the stained glass Jesus,” I clarified, trying not to sound smart-alecky.

The caller, who identified himself by name – Ken Green – right up front, prefaced his concern with a glowing and detailed assessment of all aspects of the library: the staff, the collection, the level of service, the furnishings, the adjacent parking lot, and both the interior and exterior design of the building itself.

“Your facility doesn’t even have the feel of a library,” he noted somewhat cryptically, without offering any further explanation.

He sounded like a movie critic reviewing his all-time favorite film.

Hearing such fulsome praise about the library, though, made me prepare myself for the other shoe to drop, as the saying goes. Most people are content to say, “You have a wonderful library,” and leave it at that.

Mr. Green then offered what I considered to be a fallacious analogy: the placement of the Ten Commandments in Alabama state judicial building by Chief Justice Roy Moore.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see any comparison at all,” I countered. “That was one item on display that the judge had tried to make a permanent exhibit. The piece of art in question here is part of a larger exhibit that includes a variety of themes. There are pictures of a tiger, 2 German shepherds, a Mexican scene, and even something abstract – although it looks like it might be the rays of the sun. And by the end of the month, all of these items will be gone. It’s just a temporary exhibit. In fact, all of our exhibits are up for no more than a month or two.”
Mr. Green wasn’t buying my explanation.

“But you’re promoting a particular religion,” he insisted during his voluble response.

“Just because there’s a picture of Jesus in the library doesn’t mean we’re promoting Christianity,” I replied. “We’re not promoting tigers or German shepherds or Mexican landscapes. We work with the Madison Art Guild and other group to allow artists the opportunity to display their work at the library. It has no direct bearing on library service.”

I’ve encountered this argument before. Some people – a very small minority, fortunately, most of whom live outside of Middleton’s service area – feel that libraries are promoting abortion or witchcraft or teenage sexuality when books on these and other hot-button topics are found on the shelves. Ideally, library collections are developed to contain all points of view on a particular topic, not by the personal views of the librarians, though I’m sure that’s not always the case. As a colleague of mine often states, “Libraries should have something to offend everyone.”

Our phone discussion continued for another ten minutes, with Mr. Green becoming increasingly exercised by my unwillingness to embrace his rather extreme points of view. He launched into a spirited defense of the separation of church and state as set forth in the U.S. Constitution – at least as he interpreted it. The more revved up he become, the more difficult it became for me to hold up my end of the dialogue. Our conversation had turned into a one-sided diatribe. Whenever I managed to express my opinion, he would recklessly paraphrase the words I had just spoken.

“So you’re saying…..,” he would assert.

Time for me to bring this phone call to a close, I told myself after he did this a third time.

I quickly came up with what I thought would be a good exit strategy.

“I think what I should do is call the city attorney and get his take on this issue,” I told Mr. Green.

“What’s his name?” he quickly shot back.

Reluctantly, I gave it to him, as well as the phone number at which he could reach him.

Not surprisingly, Mr. Green seemed eager to continue our debate. I was on the opposite end of that spectrum. Using great restraint, I managed to break our connection without having to hang up on him, though I’m sure I left him in a ranting mood.

As I replayed this phone call in my mind, I had the distressing feeling that he wasn’t done with us yet.

I received an unexpected phone call on Thursday afternoon, a few minutes before the start of my reference desk shift.

The woman identified herself and the organization she represented: the Anti-Defamation League in Chicago.

I immediately discerned the reason for her call. Mr. Green had obviously lodged a complaint with them.

“We were informed that a statue of Jesus has been put up in the lobby of the library,” she explained tentatively, as if embarrassed by the absurdity of this report, but feeling a need to check it out anyway.

“Let me assure you. It’s nothing like that,” I responded with a chuckle in my voice.
I then gave her my measured version of events, which she received with an audible sigh of relief. The woman, whose name I’ve forgotten, mentioned that she is from the Madison area and is familiar with the Middleton library.

“It sounds as though you’re well within your rights,” she summarized.

I’m sure nothing will convince Mr. Green that this is the case. At this point, I’m almost eager for him to call me again, just so I can gloat. Rest assured, though, that I’ll refrain from expressing that emotion and conduct any further business on a professional level.
I found some interesting information on the Anti-Defamation League’s website. Recently, there has been a discussion on a library listserv to which I subscribe about the appropriateness of Christmas trees in libraries. One librarian asserted that Christmas trees are “overt displays of particular religious significance.” Not so, according to the information provided by the ADL, in a series of guidelines entitled “The December Dilemma”.

In the context of displays on public property, the Supreme Court has ruled that a Christmas crèche standing alone is impermissible, but a Christmas tree is permissible because it has become such a secular symbol of the winter holiday season. It also has found that a Chanukah menorah is a symbol with both secular and religious meanings, and its display on public property within a predominantly secular display is permissible.

Each year, the City of Middleton has a Christmas tree lighting ceremony on the first Sunday of December, an event that the more politically correct City of Madison studiously avoids. We’ve never had a tree in the library, though. In fact, we don’t make any effort to decorate for the season. It seemed to be an unwritten rule that was already in place when I started to work here in 1986, and I’ve never had any reason or inclination to challenge it. When I lived in Oshkosh, the Friends of the Library purchased a huge tree and placed in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows facing the front entrance. One year we even had carolers as part of the “unveiling” program.