Should Money be Spent on Building Fancy Churches?



"He humbled Himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross. Because of this God greatly exalted Him and bestowed on Him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." (Phil 2:8-11)
Our Lord and Savior is exalted, given the name above all other names. The Catholic Church believes that nothing is too good for God, and accordingly has made invaluable contributions to society in the areas of art, music, and literature; for example, stained glass windows, while beautiful to look at, also served a more practical purpose - the pictures contained within helped teach the vastly illiterate public about stories from the Bible. Recall that God commanded the Jews to build the Temple at Jerusalem as their main place of worship. Jesus, as God the Son, taught in the temple, calling it His Father's House. He became angry with those who would desecrate it by turning it into market and He drove out those buyers and sellers who would turn the temple into a den of thieves. Jesus was a Jew, and nowhere in Scripture does Jesus suddenly change His mind about using the temple as a public place of worship dedicated to God - nowhere in Scripture are Christians released from the duty of public and collective worship. And because we love God, nothing can be too good for Him; therefore, any structure that is designated for His worship should be as beautiful as we can afford to build.

The Code of Canon Law defines church buildings as "a sacred building destined for divine worship" (214). Catholic churches "are not simply gathering places but signify and make visible the Church living in this place, the dwelling of God with men reconciled and united in Christ" (CCC 1180). A church should be a permanent structure that evokes the heavenly and eternal as well as bringing our minds to contemplation through material objects. After all, Jesus became the Word made Flesh for our sake - we humans rely on our human senses to understand our world. Take the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, for example. It has the 3 natural laws of church architecture: permanence, verticality, and iconography.

Permanance: Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Heb 13:8). Since a church reflects Christ's presence, it should be built "upon the foundations of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief cornerstone. Her foundations are in the holy mountains (Durandus, Rationale Divinorum Officiorum, 27). Notre Dame is a huge church that has withstood centuries of the ravages of nature and the fury of France's violent history.

Verticality: The vertical element of a church should dominate the horizontal - this is supposed to remind us of reaching toward heaven. At a church's dedication, Revelation 21:2-4 is read, "And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride for her husband. And I heard a great voice from the throne saying, 'Behold the dwelling of God with men' ".

Iconography: The church should not be hidden (Mt 5:14) Painting, sculpture and architecture are meant to work together to produce a unified effect - that of reflecting God's creation and lift our thoughts to Him. [adapted from Michael Rose, A Gospel in Stone, This Rock Magazine May/June 2002 p.27)

Christ did humble Himself, but is is not for us to humble Him. Let us humble ourselves if you like, but our very best is not too good for Christ. Though Christ was so humble, you seem to think that all things must contribute to the glory and welfare of man, as if no God existed. David cried of old, 'I haved loved, O Lord, the beauty of Thy House.' We desire to dedicate to God the best we have. Our best may fall short of the glory of heaven. But we are not in heaven; we are in this world. And the fact that the glory of heaven surpasses any glory we can give to God on earth does not dispense us from giving God such glory as we can during this life." (Rumble & Carty, Radio Replies vol. 3, 1270). The building of a glorious church or chapel is but the expression of liberality in conception and generosity proportionate to the highest ideals. Those who would be too mean to contribute a penny to such a cause are the only ones who complain. But if they deplore the building of a beautiful cathedral, and say that a tin shed would do just as well, it is because religion has become a very secondary thing to them, and the only thing that really counts in their eyes is material and earthly prosperity. It is religion itself which is a tin shed to them, whilst it is this world which is a magnificent town hall in their estimation.

As Keating reflects, "The Catholic Church has been around a long time and has been the recipient of the love and gifts of millions of Catholics. Take a look at an older church in your city. It's probably ornate. The rich decorations were donated by members of the parish in praise of and in thanksgiving to God an in honor of the saints. Catholics believe there's much sense in ecclesiastical art, so we've always been generous in underwriting lovely churches - this was especially true of Catholics who lived some generations or centuries ago and who, though poor by today's standards, took pride in making the house of God a real house, not just a barn.

In the Middle Ages peasants contributed, as their means permitted, to the erection and maintenance of their cathedrals. Some labored in stone and brick, others hauled lumber, some prepared meals for the workers. The best architects and stonemasons vied for the honor of constructing magnificent churches. In many towns construction lasted decades, sometimes centuries, and much of the labor was donated.

In this the people followed Scripture. Recall that God ordered the Jews to build a magnificent temple in Jerusalem (2 Sam 7:13). Jesus commended the poor widow for contributing money to the upkeep of the temple (Lk 21:2). He rebuked Judas, who complained about using precious oil in Jesus' honor instead of selling it and giving the proceeds to the poor (Jn 12:3-5). All this argues in favor of the churches some people disparage. Remember: Jesus is God and is entitled to our worship, and worship can be enhanced through magnficent surroundings. We're spirit and body, and the body has senses, and it makes sense to make use of those senses in worship. One way to do that is to use finely appointed churches.

I recall visiting the impressive parish church in Mount Angel, Oregon, a small town settled by immigrants in the nineteenth century. They erected what may be the loveliest church on the West Coast. Its intricate wood carvings and stunning ceiling reminded me, as no bare-bones church could, that the greatest beauty found on Earth pales next to God's own beauty. This little-known church, now protected from "renovation" by being designated a state historic site, did precisely what good architecture should do - it raised my mind to God.

While praying there I was reminded how Paul Claudel, French poet, playwright, and diplomat, was brought back to the practice of the faith while visiting Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. The beauty of the building and of the liturgy brough to his mind the beauty of God. In some inexplicable way a mental stumbling block was removed, and he became again a fervent and pious Catholic.

Keep in mind that the construction of fine churches never seems to undermine contributions to the poor. In fact, the more generous people are toward God - and one way of being generous toward him is by praising him through great architecture - the more generous they are toward other people. Perhaps you have noticed that it's almost eclusively the rich who complain about fancy churches, while it's the un-rich who contribute to their building and upkeep, just as it is the un-rich who give the bulk of the funds which keep charitable causes afloat. The poor boxes in Catholic churches are filled mainly by the offerings of the poor." (What Catholics Really Believe, 23)

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