Shattered Cross Reconstructed as Symbol of Faith

A cross etched into a glass panel that came crashing down around the altar during last year’s Northridge earthquake has risen again at Sherman Oaks United Methodist Church.

In time for Easter services today, a 6-foot-4-inch cross recreated from the jagged fragments was lifted into place and bolted onto a wooden cruciform by church members straining under the weight.

“Restoring our cross was very symbolic of the way God restores our spirit, regardless of our difficulties,” said Dale Bridges Johannsen, who last year conceived the idea to reassemble the shattered cross as if it were an oversized jigsaw puzzle.

There were fewer people to do the work than the church had before the quake. Some members of the 250-member congregation moved away from still-unrepaired apartment buildings and “several people who were not California natives literally packed up and left for the Midwest,” Johannsen said.

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The church building itself, located one block south of Ventura Boulevard on Beverly Glen Boulevard, suffered relatively minor damage--to a kitchen, the pastor’s office and plaster cracks in the sanctuary wall.

The first thoughts of congregants after the quake was to clean up and discard all the glass that had been strewn across the altar area in order to hold services the following Sunday.

“Later, someone noticed a huge pile of broken glass behind the altar cabinet,” Johannsen said, referring to a four-foot-wide area where pieces of the tall glass panel had been dropped by the temblor.

Several pieces of the aqua-colored cross that had been etched into the panel were found, and church members searched for as many remainders of the cross as they could find.

“Can’t say why; it just seemed the right thing to do,” Johannsen said.

By the one-year anniversary of the quake in January, an idea had taken shape: Although many pieces were missing, volunteers began on Jan. 23 to match as many as they could, using pieces of clear glass to fill in gaps.

All the fragments were placed on a thick sheet of Plexiglas and affixed with a solution of liquid resin and a hardening substance.

“It smelled really bad in that room,” said Kathy Ingalsbe, a volunteer.

Indeed, a warning on the resin can read: “Avoid prolonged or repeated contact and breathing of vapor.”

Donna Johannes, who had the honor of finding the first matching pieces of the cross “puzzle,” said the room was ventilated.

“Nobody passed out and nobody got high,” she said with a laugh.

“And nobody got seriously cut,” added Dale Johannsen.

However, she was not through worrying one day last week as the 75-pound cross and a two-by-four plank temporarily bolted to it were ready to be placed about 20 feet above the altar.

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The burden of lifting the cross into position fell to Bud Ingalsbe and Marcus Smythe who climbed ladders and held either end of the plank high above the altar.

Quips about “the old rugged cross” and being “nearer my God to thee” were exchanged.

But before Johannsen’s husband, Don, could bolt the top arm of the glass artifact in place, the weight of the cross was clearly straining the endurance of the pair on the ladders.

“Eighty pounds, my --!” exclaimed Smythe.

Finally, Dale Johannsen could relax and pronounce the back-lighted cross as a shining beacon of hope for worshipers at the 10:30 a.m. Easter service.