When churches need high fences, a city has problems

When you think of the word “church,” you probably think of quiet reflection.

Of sanctuary, of charity, of piety. Of fellowship and faith — of the quiet hum of radiators and the low voices — and maybe even peace.

You probably don’t think of a building surrounded by a nine-foot high chain-link fence and topped with barbed wire.

Yet for a church on Burrows Avenue in Winnipeg’s North End, it’s a necessary solution for an otherwise difficult problem.

St. John Cantius Church is dealing with thefts, encampments and even having a staff member threatened with a machete. There are concerns about the safety of its parishioners.

And the people causing the problems aren’t always in a condition to be reasoned with.

“A lot of times (they) are not in the right state of mind, they are under the influence of liquor or drugs,” Delvina Tabing said, a trustee of the parish. The fence seemed to be the best solution.

But the concerns of the church have come up against, shall we say, a higher power.

The City of Winnipeg’s planning department ruled against allowing a variance that would allow the fence — which is taller than city regulations permit. The city’s concerns? That fence heights are limited to “promote a sense of community and preserve sightlines.”

“The fence height is incompatible with other residential properties on the block. Esthetically, a fence of this height with barbed wire gives the property a fortress-like appearance,” a city report read. Coun. Ross Eadie pointed out that the fence would also make it difficult for fire crews to access the property.

The city’s decision — to simply say no and to suggest a lower fence that would not effectively stop trespassers — is no solution.

Find it hard to imagine a church surrounded by fencing? It’s not really that hard, because you can see it already. Faced with similar problems, Our Lady of Lourdes Slovenian Catholic Church in Point Douglas put up a similar fence last fall.

“We (didn’t) want to put up a fence. It looks like we’re keeping people out. That’s not the intention of any church. We’re supposed to be welcoming all of God’s people but … the safety of our parishioners was coming into play, and we could not afford to keep repairing all of the vandalism that was going on without that type of fence,” Stephanie Casar said, a parish council member at Our Lady of Lourdes.

But back to St. John Cantius Church and just what they’re expected to do next to address their obvious safety concerns.

With all due respect to the city’s response, there comes a point when esthetics meet blunt practicality: take, for example, the common sprinkler head.

Almost everyone who works in a commercial building can picture the little silver fins that divert and spread the sprinkler system’s water flow to douse fires. But there is probably not one single person who would describe those ceiling-mounted fixtures as anything like esthetically pleasing.

Ugly or not, they are a practical necessity for protecting lives and property. It’s impossible to conceive of a city official suggesting a building could bypass their installation for esthetic reasons.

A prettier fence that doesn’t provide the protection the church requires is a poor option. And, frankly, stores with sliding steel shutters covering their windows give every bit as much of an impression of fortresses and are equally difficult for firefighters to access — yet they are allowed.

What makes an even poorer public impression than a nine-foot fence, however, is that parts of Winnipeg are in such a state that this type of fence would be needed. Around a church.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.