God and Presbyterians, post-WWII

•April 2, 2017 • Leave a Comment

Slide01Having moved past our Good Shepherd Sunday experience, we find ourselves late in the season of Lent, and the end is now in sight.


Briefly and in limited ways, we have remembered the story that God has been telling through Presbyterian Christians, from the Colonial period, through the nineteenth century, to the early 1920s.

The time between the laying of the 1923 cornerstone and laying of the 1960 dedication stone was a tumultuous one in Presbyterian history.


A few weeks ago, I described for you the split that occurred during the 1920s between the Fundamentalists and the Modernists. During the next few decades, a new theological movement emerged, one that expressed well concerns about the weaknesses of both Modernism and Fundamentalism. This movement was in some sense a reaction against the horrors of the First World War, then the Second World War. In a time of competing philosophies and ideologies, it was in some sense a restatement of Reformation theological themes about God’s sovereignty and human sinfulness.

This theological movement often goes by the name of “Neo-orthodoxy,” but there are other labels for it, too.



Major theologians associated with neo-orthodoxy include these figures, two Swiss, two German, two Americans of German ancestry.

Slide6Part of the appeal of neo-orthodoxy was its well-reasoned and courageous criticism of other theological movements. On the one side, Neo-orthodox analysis of Fundamentalism revealed how such theology remained neutral toward, or even conveniently supported, racist and sexist attitudes and policies by more powerful groups against less powerful groups. On the other side, Neo-orthodox analysis of Modernism showed how ineffective this sort of theology was in prophetically challenging Fascism and Communism. In effect, Neo-orthodoxy affirmed the Modernist value of higher education and literary and source criticism to guide biblical interpretation, while also affirming the Fundamentalist value of a proper Reformed understanding of human sinfulness.

Today, Presbyterians notice the heroes of this movement were all male, and of European heritage. Despite those limitations, they were brilliant theologians, courageous in their Christian witness, and highly influential public figures from the World War II period through the 1960s. They formed a foundation upon which others were inspired and encouraged to open themselves to other chapters that God wanted to write in the Church’s story about proper relations among the nations, proper relationships with people of other religions, proper stewardship of the earth and its resources, the full inclusion in membership and leadership roles of women, racial-ethnic minorities, and sexual-orientation-based minorities.

As the Brief Statement of Faith, approved in 1990, puts it:

Slide7World War II, and America’s experience of the forces of Fascism and Communism seemed to vindicate the theological perspective of the Neo-orthodox Christian theologians. As attention turned from defeating enemy nations back to the homeland, American Christians turned their energy to organizing the Church’s ministries with similar discipline and energy. Post-WWII was a period of renewed cooperation between Church and state, and church attendance for many was not only a Christian duty, but also a patriotic duty.

During this period, First Presbyterian’s Christian education wing was conceived, the fourth major building project of this congregation.

Slide8The stone was laid on February 14, 1960, during the final year of the presidency of Dwight D. Eisenhower, and the building dedicated on December 4, shortly after the election of John F. Kennedy.

Slide9The time capsule behind the 1960 stone was shaped like a rectangular safe deposit box, made of copper, and sealed on all sides. Among the items discovered inside was this worship bulletin from the occasion. Interestingly, the choreography of the ceremony was similar to our service a few weeks ago, gathering outside after worship, a service presided over by another pastor named “John,” who also used the text from Ephesians 2.

Slide10Our March 19 gathering around the 1960 stone was particularly meaningful, as members who were here then and now gathered for photos. We’re so glad they were here to be part of the celebration.

More than once I have said to you that there a certain continuity in our history as Edwardsville Presbyterians. If we look closely, then we will see the repetition of themes and patterns.  I’ve called our journey “The Story That God Is Telling Through Us,” but of course I’m not the only one to think of our journey as a “story.”

Slide11Just a few years after the completion of the Christian education wing, when you would think the saints of this church might have been resting content with their accomplishments, they were still discerning together the path forward “This is the Story of Our Church on the Move,” as shown in this special pictorial booklet.


Slide16Slide17Slide18Slide19Slide20The final page appears to have a holder for a pledge card or donation envelope, perhaps for the annual pledge campaign, expressing a hope, an appeal, a prayer: “We Would Be Building … O’ Keep Us Building!!” Whether that prayer was meant literally or figuratively, the Lord  has kept Edwardsville Presbyterians always building its programs, its services, its staff, and its facilities through additional renovations and expansions, all the way to the edge of breaking ground for a new building in this year of 2017.

Slide01As we approach this milestone, may we always remember that the Church is not just a building, but a body, built upon the foundations of prophets and apostles, reformers and our spiritual fathers and mothers, with Christ Jesus himself the chief cornerstone. At 2nd, at Kansas St., at Ridgeview Rd.,  may God’s children hear the Word proclaimed,  be washed in the cleansing waters, and fed at the table of grace. Living Christ, be the chief cornerstone of our body, today and always, Amen.







The Good Shepherd Leads Us Still

•March 26, 2017 • Leave a Comment

Slide2We are in the fourth Sunday in our journey through this Lenten season, which ends on Easter Sunday.


The past three Sundays, we concluded worship with special ceremonies surrounding the 1870, 1884, 1923, and 1960 dedication stones.


Last week’s gathering around the 1960 stone was particularly meaningful, as we opened a time capsule and revealed the contents placed there on February 14, 1960, and as members who were here then and now gathered for photos.


Some of these same folks may appear in photos from the February 14, 1960, laying of the stone.

Slide7In the worship bulletin we found (somewhat discolored from the thick paper wrapping which was placed in the sealed copper safe-deposit-box-like time capsule) I discovered that the choreography of the ceremony was similar, gathering outside after worship, a service presided over by another pastor named “John,” who also used the text from Ephesians 2.


As our journey of faith continues, it’s probably good to acknowledge that there’s something extraordinary about today’s worship service. It’s not just the fact that we are worshiping in a new space. We’ve done that before. Edwardsville Presbyterians have worshiped together at Camp Carew, on youth mission trips, in experimental worship services at places like SIUE and the YMCA. What makes today unusual is the purposeful inclusion in worship of a physical journey from Kansas Street to Goshen School, and the uprooting from a familiar home this journey represents.

This choreography makes us think and feel things similar to what our nomadic spiritual ancestors thought and felt as they moved from place to place. At Kansas Street, it is relatively easy to appreciate biblical references to worship in the Jerusalem temple. “I was glad when they said unto me, let us go into the house of the Lord.” At Goshen School we will be given a unique opportunity to appreciate what it was like to be God’s people during the time of the post-Exodus wilderness years, or post-Kingdom exile years, a time of moving forward to a new and more permanent home, the landscape constantly changing.

If you recall your personal experiences of travel to new places, then you remember that it can be disconcerting to wake up and find yourself in an unfamiliar building. As I speak today, I realize it’s perfectly normal and natural for your mind to be focused on other issues and questions: transportation, directions, parking, “Where is the coffee?” “How do I find the restrooms?” “Can the children eat crackers in the school library?” One of the first things to acknowledge about our journey to temporary worship at Goshen School is that we don’t feel settled, and it will take some time to get our bearings. And that’s ok.  I hope you’ll linger for a few minutes after worship, and get a sense of the building we occupy.


The 23rd Psalm is featured prominently in today’s lectionary schedule of scripture readings. When I read it, I can’t help but think of the geography  that formed the context for its writing. On the road from Jerusalem to Jericho, the elevation descends 4000 feet over about 15 miles. Deep canyons are found in the area.  One of the best known is called the Wadi Qelt.

The slide gives you just enough information to imagine what it would be like to travel that valley, at points noticing the space around you darker, only a portion of the sky is visible above the canyon walls. The Wadi Qelt invites you to imagine what it must have been like for the ancient traveler, on foot or with a pack animal. He or she must have wondered regularly about the possibility of a thief hidden among the rocks, waiting to make his move, or a wild animal lurking the shadows looking for a meal, or a torrential distant rain that might bring a drowning flood. Wadi Qelt is the valley of the shadow of death. In the presence of such threat,  the psalmist encourages us not to be controlled by our fear, because God walks with us through dangerous places. [1]


When the 23rd Psalm makes its appearance in the middle of Lent, I think a wise choice it was for the framers of the lectionary  to remind us of God’s presence and provision just when we’re in the deepest and darkest part of Lent’s valley.  It is our scriptural reminder that in the “dark valley” of Lent, in the midst of our most fearful challenges, the Good Shepherd travels with us. The promise of the Good Shepherd’s presence  is encouragement for us today.  We don’t face the same physical threats our ancestors did. It’s easier to find evidence that God is providing for our congregation’s future.  Still, the temptations and distractions of our age are dangerous in their own way, and fear of the future is still a real and significant threat.

Maybe you’re one of those for whom this journey is particularly frightening, and anxiety-producing.  Maybe you’re a volunteer who has devoted many hours and much energy, and this journey is simply tiring you out. Our congregation’s journey from building to building requires the sort of courage and strength we find only through trust in Him.

In the midst of whatever particular valley you may feel yourself today, the words of the old Tommy Dorsey hymn seem particularly meaningful:

 Precious Lord, take my hand

Lead me on, let me stand

I’m tired, I’m weak, I’m worn

Through the storm, through the night

Lead me on to the light

Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home.

From Kansas Street, to Goshen School, to Ridgeview Road, (and beyond!) precious Lord, lead us home.


[1] This is the way Wadi Qelt is described by my colleague and traveling partner Lew Hopfe in his sermon “My Twin Demons,” delivered to Plymouth Congregational Church, Wichita, KS, 17 May 1992.

The Cornerstone to Come

•March 21, 2017 • Leave a Comment

1960 laying 1from the FPCE archives, “The Laying of the Cornerstone,” February 14, 1960 ….

Some of you have been asking questions about the schedule for construction of the new building. This is natural because we’ve been conducting ceremonies related to the dedication stones of past buildings and are looking forward to a similar ceremony at the future building. So what happens between session approval of construction drawings and dedication of a new cornerstone?

I am learning that there is a series of steps that our design-build team takes to get us from here to there. I’m not an expert in architecture or engineering, so some of these things are beyond my ability to understand in depth.  Still, for the sake of all who are wondering, I’ll attempt to describe some steps from my amateur perspective.

One step is a review process with our design-build team and the city planning and zoning department, during which time the new church design is measured against building codes and a development code known as the “I-55 Corridor Plan.” There is room for different interpretations of the same code language, and dialogue eventually leads parties to agreement. Changes are evaluated in terms of design aesthetics and engineering functionality.

A second step is development and circulation of “requests for proposals” from our design-build team to potential sub-contractors for project components, and evaluation of each proposal for soundness and value. This process leads to revision of previous pricing estimates, and to further discussion with our Construction Readiness Committee about potential additions and subtractions. Eventually, the church and the design-build team arrive at agreement about any change to the GMP (guaranteed maximum price).

Yet a third step involves refining the financial plan so that when construction begins, we are reasonably confident that we can pay all invoices that will arrive during the following months. As you recall, our plan calls for a construction loan to “bridge” the time between when payment is due, and when funds are received from the sale of our current campus.  As soon as the amount of the GMP is known, we will quickly complete our request paperwork to potential lenders.

When these pieces are in place to the satisfaction of the Construction Readiness Committee and the Session, the path forward is relatively straightforward. Our design-build team procures sub-contractors, materials are ordered and delivered, and site preparation begins in earnest. The land is properly graded, a building pad created, and utility connections ordered.  A corner layout is plotted, and preparations made for footings and foundations. Near this time, a cornerstone is prepared and a dedication ceremony takes place.

While I am not yet able to specify a date for the cornerstone ceremony, we know it will happen, when the time is ripe. Please pray for your church’s leaders and all who are working to prepare a new home for mission and ministry.

1960 Dedication Stone

•March 19, 2017 • Leave a Comment

03 insert stone 1960

God and Early 20th-century Presbyterians

•March 19, 2017 • Leave a Comment


We are in the third Sunday in our journey through this Lenten season, which ends on Easter Sunday. The past two Sundays, we concluded worship with special ceremonies surrounding the 1870, 1884, and 1923 dedication stones. Today, we conclude late worship with a ceremony outside near the 1960 dedication stone for the Christian education wing, which was the fourth major building project of the congregation.  Our amateur archaeologists have done enough work to know that those in attendance will not be disappointed: a time capsule will be revealed.

This period of remembrance and celebration is giving us opportunity to reflect upon the meaning of our journey from building to building, and its place in a much larger and longer journey of faith.  The story God is telling through us is one with chapters to be written after you and I pass from this life. It’s a story that we joined midstream, with themes that we are revisiting in limited and imperfect ways.


Last week we briefly considered the work of God among 19th-century Presbyterians, and the legacy we inherited from those pioneering Presbyterians who formed our congregation. Elizabeth Smith (it’s a shame we don’t have a portrait of Elizabeth!) and Salmon Giddings represented Presbyterian Christians with a heart for evangelism on the new frontier.  Elijah Parish Lovejoy and Thomas Lippincott represented Presbyterian Christians with a concern for freedom and social justice.


As I described the historical context in which our spiritual ancestors were nurtured and shaped, I introduced a graphic depiction of the theological tension of that age between “New School and Old School Presbyterians,” and the debt we owe to the theological flexibility and inter-denominational cooperation of New School Presbyterians, which created the conditions for the birth of this congregation.

As the post-Civil-War period gave way to the early 20th Century, American society changed in profound ways, with consequences for this church and its ministries. In the realm of theology, this was a time of new advances in archaeology, understanding of ancient civilizations and languages, and application of this new knowledge to the field of biblical interpretation. Fundamentalism arose as a new movement, and was defined in significant ways by the theological dialogue that took place at Princeton Seminary.



In Presbyterian churches, the tensions that earlier had manifested themselves in the conflict between the “Old School” and the “New School” re-emerged in controversy between “Fundamentalists” and so-called “Modernists” (visit slide, “Westminster Standards 1643-49, “Higher Criticism” study of literary sources and methods, the “world behind the text).

During the 1920s, this tension lead to splits in the church. The Modernist group kept Princeton Seminary, while Fundamentalists professors left to form a new seminary in Philadelphia. In New York, Harry Emerson Fosdick was forced by the presbytery to leave the pulpit of First Presbyterian Church. Fundamentalists saw him as unorthodox. He saw them as intolerant.  Like the Jewish leaders that Jesus criticized in our gospel text, Fosdick believed the Fundamentalist leaders of the time knew more about the letter of the law than its spirit.  The presbytery’s loss was the larger Church’s gain, as Fosdick helped to found Riverside Church in New York, with thousands waiting in line on Sunday mornings waiting for admittance to hear him preach.


A popular new hymnal was used in Riverside Church, published the year the cornerstone was laid for this building in which we worship.  It was called “Hymns for the Living Age.” Two of its selections are included in worship today, as well as Fosdick’s “God of Grace, and God of Glory,” which he wrote for the dedication of Riverside Church in 1930.


The time between this congregation’s second building in 1884, and its third in 1924 was characterized by growing industrialization and urbanization. Even in our smaller-sized community, we can find evidence of these changes. The growing use of industrial machinery and the development of the railroad led to the 1890 relocation to LeClaire of the N.O. Nelson Company, which employed about 300 men in the manufacture of plumbing fixtures and supplies. (upper-left panel) About the same time, Benjamin Richards bought the old Spring and Tunnell Press brickworks, and began to develop the Richards Brick Co. that would eventually make more than 100,000 bricks per day. We see evidence of change in things as simple as the description in our church history of pioneering Presbyterian Lucy Medora Gilham Krome driving an electric car around the streets of Edwardsville. (not actually her in the photo).

Former scenes of village churches surrounded by country fields and forests gave way to the challenges of life and ministry in cities, and churches adopted their architecture accordingly.


As Jack Ades says in his 1993 history of our church, it was an age of stability and growth for this church. The plan for the future embraced a new style of church building, emphasizing a large auditorium, with smaller “break-out” rooms. The smaller rooms allowed Sunday school to move from the “one-room schoolhouse” approach to a Sunday school in which classes could be grouped according to age. It was the logical next step for a leading church in a growing neighborhood, next to the chief public school of its day.


The dedication to the education of children and youth, and the commitment that the congregation tried to instill its people, is reflected in this attendance medal.  It was presented to me, I believe, by the family of Evelyn B., after her death in 2006. Evelyn could remember this building being built, and she recalled temporary worship down the street in the First Christian building.  As you can see from the photo, Evelyn’s attendance was rewarded not once but seven times, each additional award hung by fine chain links from the former.


In the plan to enhance worship ministries, this comparatively large auditorium incorporated elements that made the worship a more theater-like experience, with a set of elements, some of which we experience here or see in this composite photo from the mortgage burning on January 1, 1938:

  • a raised platform, pipe organ and choir behind (upper left, lower right)
  • multi-level seating, like our main floor plus balcony, and
  • curved pews (such as those in our balcony) to draw the congregation’s attention to
  • a central pulpit (upper right panel) and Lord’s Table.

(By the way, these photos were delivered to me in 2002 by the daughter of a revered elder from these days, Oscar Bardelmeier).


According to our history, when the cornerstone ceremony took place May 5, 1923, a time capsule containing a number of items were placed therein. (read slide). The time capsule resides beneath the cornerstone, we believe, and later in the deconstruction process, we will be able to access it, finally.


Today, this 1923 building, and mementos from Presbyterians who ministered here during its early years, are our reminder of seasonal Lenten themes of change, mortality, fragility.

Their spiritual pilgrimage included courageous sacrifice

  • to worship God, and proclaim God’s amazing grace,
  • to educate children and youth,
  • to create a new facility to more effectively implement mission for a larger population in an age of new challenges and new opportunities.

As we engage in our own pilgrimage of courageous and sacrificial faith, may Christ bless our journey, as we continue to reflect upon “the story that God is telling through us.”

God and 19th-century Presbyterians

•March 12, 2017 • Leave a Comment

Slide01We are in the second Sunday of a seven-Sunday journey through the Lenten season, which ends on Easter Sunday. This past Sunday, we concluded worship with special ceremonies surrounding the 1870 and 1884 cornerstones, which are displayed today, with our church’s communion flagon from that era (“flagon” rhymes with “wagon”) and an ink drawing from the T. household of the second church 1884-1923. Today, we conclude late worship with a ceremony outside near the 1923 cornerstone for this, the congregation’s third building. Next Sunday, our service will feature items from  that early 20th-century era, and will conclude with a ceremony related to the 1960 CE Wing cornerstone.

This period of remembrance and celebration is giving us opportunity to reflect upon the meaning of our journey, and its place in a much larger and longer journey of faith.  The story God is telling through us is one with chapters to be written after you and I pass from this life. It’s a story that we joined midstream, with themes that we will revisit in limited and imperfect ways.


Last week we briefly considered the work of God  among Colonial Presbyterians, and the Presbyterian Christian tradition that was carried by them from Europe to America. As contrasted to their Scottish or Swiss ancestors, American Presbyterian Christians developed the church from the bottom up – from the local level – rather than from the top down – from the regional or national level.  For a long time, there was great local autonomy, and the colonial Presbyterian Church was a loose confederation of congregations. This context of greater decentralization contributed to the way  in which the first General Assembly, held in 1789, modified Presbyterian standards to fit the American context.  The concept of “adiaphora” was important to the developing denomination; it recognized matters about which Christians can disagree but cooperate with those who differ in theological understanding of our faith.

Slide03Adiaphora is a strange, jargon-like word. But its meaning isn’t all that different from what many of you have heard me say about “faith” and “theology” in new member classes and officer training. “Faith,” you’ve heard me say, is a “primary phenomenon.” God reveals Godself to us, and faith is born. “Theology,” I say, is “secondary reflection” on faith: it’s how  we try to make sense of God at work in our lives.[i] We can share one common faith, but have two  ways of understanding of how God works.

To recognize adiaphora is to say something similar. Two theological understandings may be in friendly competition about adiaphora, because underneath the competing theologies there is a common, shared faith.


In retrospect, this new theological flexibility was a very important pre-condition for the birth in 1819 of First Presbyterian Church, Edwardsville. Let me explain as briefly as I know how.

In the early days of this community, Elizabeth Smith was among the Presbyterians who had migrated to this region from Virginia, and this note from our archives reminds us of some facts about her life. Her father was among those within George Washington’s circle of influence. Her husband’s brother succeeded John Witherspoon as president of Princeton University. Her husband John Blair Smith was the 1773 valedictorian at  Princeton University, became a Presbyterian minister, and president of two colleges. He was serving a church in Philadelphia, when he died of Yellow Fever in 1799. By some path I have yet to determine, Mrs. Smith was in Edwardsville no more than 18 years later. It was she who petitioned the Presbyterian General Assembly to send an evangelist pastor to Edwardsville.

But there was a problem: the Presbyterian Church faced a severe shortage of ministers. By one estimate, there was approximately one minister for every five congregations in existence. Fortunately, in 1801, Presbyterians had created with the Congregationalists an agreement known as the Plan of Union, which opened to them the ministerial resources of another denomination.


Young Salmon Giddings, a Congregationalist, was extended the call  to establish new Presbyterian congregations in our area. Jesus’ call “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations …” was not just a scripture verse to Giddings, but a call that he embraced in a courageous and sacrificial way. By virtue of accepting that call, and traveling west to St. Louis, then to Edwardsville, the congregation he helped establish here was not the First Congregational Church, but rather the First Presbyterian Church.


As the 19th-century developed, conflict deepened between Presbyterians who valued a new spirit of theological flexibility and those who valued older boundaries of theological purity. The conflict was related to regional cultural differences, and intertwined with the question of slavery. For Elijah Parish Lovejoy, Presbyterian minister serving this region, the good news of Jesus Christ was not just about spiritual freedom,  but also about freedom for those in physical bondage. When he opposed slavery, even when his printing press was destroyed, once, twice, three times, when he died defending his fourth press, he was living out the gospel principle Paul wrote about to the Galatians: “For freedom Christ has set us free. Stand firm, therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.” It wasn’t just a Bible verse, but the call of Christ that Lovejoy embraced in a courageous and sacrificial way.


Our congregation’s direct tie to Lovejoy is through Thomas Lippincott. My predecessor the Rev. Richard Neil once said that among the many saints associated with this congregation, Lippincott is the one figure who stands out among the rest.[ii] In the slide, you get a sense of some of the remarkable facts of his life.

If we try to describe the tension of these tumultuous times that included the martyrdom of Lovejoy and the horror of the Civil War, on the one side of the conflict were Presbyterians we identify as the “New School,” and on the other side, those we identify as the “Old School.”   My slide attempts to summarize the tensions.


Today’s relics were born in the wake of this dangerous time.


The 1870 stone from the building on 2nd St.. is an enduring reminder of the Edwardsville Presbyterians who had lived through the Civil War.  For the most part, they reflected the influence of  the northern stream of the Presbyterian tradition.

According to our history, the first building was dedicated on October 16, 1870, and cost $4,000. But shortly the location proved unsatisfactory because a.) it was considered to be in the wrong part of town for further growth,  and b.) it was near a livery stable, which, as Jack Ades put it in his 1993 history, “cultivated flies and produced an ammoniacal atmosphere a little too mellow for meditation.”[iii] After considering the feasibility of alternative plans, the congregation sold the first building, recovering $900 cash, and furnishings for reuse.


The new second building was dedicated on July 5, 1885. Today we display a 1993 ink drawing by Dirk T. of this older photograph.  Lucy Medora Gilham Krome described the result.  She was grandmother of Dr. William Delicate, a local doctor who delivered some of our present members.  Mrs Krome said, “We  used the chandelier until .. electricity was installed.  The same old bell called us to worship.” The same “old bell” is still in our tower.  Interesting to our officers may be Mrs. Krome’s account that as the new building was nearing completion, money had to be borrowed to complete the project. A Ladies Aid Society took out “building-society stock” to pay the workmen. The construction debt finally was eliminated finally in 1896.


Today, relics that were purchased and dedicated by Presbyterians who had survived the Civil War are our reminder of seasonal Lenten themes of change, mortality, fragility. Their spiritual pilgrimage included courageous sacrifice

  • to preach the good news of Christ,
  • to further freedom for peoples long oppressed, and
  • to create not one but two new homes for the advancement of Christian mission and ministry.

As we engage in our own pilgrimage of courageous and sacrificial faith, may Christ bless our journey, as we continue to reflect upon  “the story that God is telling through us.”


[i] This is the sort of distinction made by Paul Tillich in his Systematic Theology.

[ii] The Rev. Dr. Richard Neil, FPCE Newsletter article, circa 1990s.

[iii] John Irvine Ades, The Church on North Kansas Street: being a familiar history of The First Presbyterian Church of Edwardsville on the occasion of the 175th anniversary of its founding in 1819, St. Louis, MO: Mills Graphic Productions, Inc., 1993, p. 16

1923 Cornerstone

•March 12, 2017 • Leave a Comment

02 insert cornerstone web