God and the Cathedral

A view of the ceiling and top of an altar at St. Peter's in the Vatican.

Through my travels, I’ve had opportunities to visit many beautiful centers of worship. Most recently my wife and I were in Rome, where we toured the Vatican, including St. Peter's cathedral and the Sistine Chapel. While in Venice we saw St. Mark’s, another architectural marvel, and in Assisi, the grand church where St. Francis is reported to have been buried.

St. Patrick's Cathedral in Midtown Manhattan.

During a trip to New York City a few years ago, we visited St. Patrick’s Cathedral, one of the most beautiful churches in the United States. While in Savannah, Ga., we toured Christ Church, a comparatively modest chapel built through the efforts of the Wesley brothers, John and Charles. But even in its wood-hewn simplicity, the stain-glassed interior spoke volumes about devotion to Jesus.

And when I toured parts of Hungary, Czech Republic and Germany more than 20 years ago, numerous churches caught my eyes, including one in Dresden that endured much damage during World War II, being rebuilt only after a half-century of Communist rule in East Germany. The centuries-old artwork and craftsmanship in each of these churches serve as testaments to the artisans’ faith in the God of the Bible.

Reports of the fire that destroyed parts of the iconic cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris, France turned my thoughts to the wondrous edifices I’ve seen. Having never been to “the city of lights,” I’ve not viewed the famed cathedral firsthand, but can imagine the creative expressions of faith it has contained through its history. For countless thousands who have toured it, as well as Parisians who have walked in its shadow, the inferno that claimed the cathedral’s roof, spire and some of its contents was tragic. 

Christ Church chapel outside
near Savannah, Ga.

Then I began to wonder what God thought about it. Not to diminish the artistry that was destroyed, but I suspect the Lord wasn’t nearly as upset as were many connoisseurs of history and art.

We find clues in the Old Testament. After King David of Israel stated his desire to build a temple for God, the Lord responded through the prophet Nathan: 

“… Are you the one to build me a house to dwell in? I have not dwelt in a house from the day I brought the Israelites up out of Egypt to this day…. Wherever I have moved with all the Israelites, did I ever say to any of their rulers whom I commanded to shepherd my people Israel, 'Why have you not built me a house of cedar?’”(2 Samuel 7:1-7).

Preparing to commence with construction of the temple, using gold and silver, bronze and iron, cedar and other materials collected by his father, King Solomon announced,“The temple I am going to build will be great, because our God is greater than all other gods. But who is able to build a temple for him, since the heavens, even the highest heaven, cannot contain him? Who then am I to build a temple for him, except as a place to burn sacrifices before him?” (2 Chronicles 2:5-6).

Then, upon completion of the temple Solomon conceded, “But will God really dwell on earth? The heavens, even the highest heaven, cannot contain you. How much less this temple I have built!... May your eyes be open toward this temple night and day, this place of which you said, ‘My Name shall be there’…” (1 Kings 8:27-29).

Despite its grandeur, this lavish focal point for the Israelites’ worship was eventually destroyed by enemy armies. All that remains are the detailed biblical descriptions of how it was constructed and what it looked like. God, being all-powerful, could have preserved the temple. However, in the New Testament we discover He had a very different plan.

The historic church
at Assisi, Italy.

Rather than bricks and mortar, or even the finest metals and most exquisite pieces of art, the Lord prefers a human habitation. As the apostle Paul wrote to believers in Corinth, “Do you not know that you are a temple of God and that the Spirit of God lives in you?” (1 Corinthians 3:16).

Paul also wrote, “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own” (1 Corinthians 6:19). The apostle Peter reinforced this when he stated, “You also, as living stones, are being built up as a spiritual house for a holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 2:5).

So reflecting on the fire that recently claimed portions of the historic cathedral in Paris, it’s no doubt a loss in terms of the blood, sweat and tears of the artists and workers who gave so much of their lives to its creation. But based on the passages above, God is much more concerned about the cathedrals – the temples – He is building and refining within each of us. 

It's a reminder that when we “go to church,” we as “temples of God” are congregating for collective worship and praise. And when we depart, we “temples” return to our homes, to work, to school, and wherever we go. By combining our unique talents, gifts and expertise, we can form a Church that pales the Notre Dame cathedral, or any religious edifice, by comparison.

‘Pasta-Tense’ Perspectives on Italy

The Roman Colosseum, a vast amphitheater of historic lore,
remains a visual wonder to this day.

Do you have any idea how much old stuff they have in Italy?

In the United States, a building 25 years or older becomes a prime candidate for being razed, to be replaced by something shinier, sleeker and, well, newer. Not in Italy, or much of Europe for that matter, as I had the pleasant opportunity to observe. One reason for my recent blog “sabbatical” was that my wife and I had a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to join a group tour of Italy. As a result, I can now attest there’s a lot of old stuff there – REALLY old stuff.

Unlike in the USA, where we’re quick to demolish domed stadiums, retail stores, hotels and all sorts of other structures the moment they start to exhibit the first signs of age, things in “the old country” were built to last. Perhaps, even as they were being constructed, architects and builders were considering how these grand facilities would present themselves years later in what we could term, the “pasta tense.”

Take the Roman Colosseum, for example. The revered amphitheater was built in the first century A.D. Even though it has taken a beating over the years, it remains a stately icon of history. No one’s booking the Colosseum for sporting events these days, but neither is anyone in Rome contemplating tearing it down and replacing it with a shopping mall or condominiums.

Artwork that defies description can be
seen everywhere in the Vatican.

The Sistine Chapel in Vatican City, known best for Michelangelo’s wondrous ceiling paintings, is young by comparison, dating back only to the 15^thcentury. But more than 600 years later, it still mesmerizes many thousands of visitors daily, not only for its artistic beauty but also for the compelling spiritual messages captured by each work of art. The imagery – and truths – throughout the Vatican have endured the passing of time.

This “built to last” philosophy was evident everywhere we went, whether it was ancient Assisi, birthplace of St. Francis; the ruins of Pompeii, reminders of the once-prospering Roman city buried by the 79 A.D. eruption of Vesuvius; the hillside city of Montefiascone, or picturesque seaside communities like Positano and Sorrento.

Rock formations off coastal communities
like Capri command a sense of awe.

The imposing “faraglioni” rock formations off the island of Capri, which have adorned travelogues as well as theatrical films set in that area, leave their own lasting impressions – not of human imagination and construction, but of natural wonder.

During our 12-day travels across what the natives know as Italia, I found much to take note of and ponder. But the enduring qualities of what we saw firsthand ranked right at the top of the list.

Pride of workmanship, perseverance and creativity were represented in each, but in many cases, we could see another quality on display: devotion to the Creator God. In my view, it was a manifestation of the admonition from Colossians 3:23-24, “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward.”

Renaissance painters, not only Michelangelo but also masters like Sandro Botticelli, Pietro Perugino, Pinturicchio, Domenico Ghirlandaio and Cosimo Roselli, labored countless hours on frescos and draperies to create scenes that depicted biblical characters and stories. Even if these artists were commissioned and compensated for their work, there is something exquisite and timeless about their work that could only have come through labors of love for their God.

Michelangelo's famed Pieta in St. Peter's Basilica.

Everywhere we visited in Italy we found churches and chapels boasting a level of craftsmanship rarely seen in our contemporary world. In fact, you might say in some respects they have an otherworldly quality to them, work undertken as a form of worship.

I suspect undergirding some of these projects was King Solomon’s declaration in Ecclesiastes 9:10, “Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might, for in the realm of the dead, where you are going, there is neither working nor planning nor knowledge nor wisdom.” If only we could see more people pursuing their work with that sort of passion and motivation today.