Some General Notes on Sacred Edifices
by Benedictine Monks of Buckfast Abbey
I
In the French language there is a striking expression to describe soldiers, lawyers and priests: they are called, respectively, gens d'epee, gens de robe, and gens d'eglise (men of the sword, men of the robe, men of the church). To call a priest un homme d'eglise, is to designate him by a very comprehensive title, which, among others, has the advantage of singling out the place where he chiefly exercises the functions peculiar to his office. Just as a soldier belongs to barracks, or a businessman transacts affairs in an office, so is his church the place where a priest spends a considerable, and certainly by far the most important part of his time.
A priest's church may be an architectural gem; often it has around it the golden glamor of a great past; its aisles may as yet be fragrant with the sweet odor of the virtues of saintly predecessors; or (and that is more often the case) it may be but a plain structure built, not with an eye to beauty of proportion and splendor of ornamentation, but rather with strict regard to the slenderness of material resources. However, be its outward appearance fair or plain, his church is to a priest like the apple of his eye. His admiration for the glorious cathedrals of Europe and the basilicas of Rome and Italy cannot diminish his love for his own church — precisely, because it is his own church. He is wedded to his parish, and he loves it "for better, for worse"; and, when he has been away from it for a time, he returns to it with some of the joy that fills the heart of an exile who, at long last, revisits the home of his youth.
It will not be amiss, in these Notes on the Sacred Liturgy, to study the purpose of Holy Church when she sets apart certain places, erects and dedicates certain buildings, for the special and more solemn worship of God. To know what Holy Church thinks of our sacred edifices, will help our sense of reverence and invigorate our spirit of faith. The Catholic Church is scarcely ever so inspired as in the rites and prayers with which she consecrates a church to the glory of God.
II
It is hardly necessary to begin by stating that our churches and temples are indeed built for the honor and glory of God, not because He is in need of an earthly and material habitation, but because He has at all times deigned to manifest Himself in a peculiar manner in certain places of His own choosing. The setting apart of certain places and buildings for the purpose of divine worship is one of the most primitive of man's instincts, and a necessity, as it were, of his being. Just as there never yet was a race of men who were utterly bereft of religious observances, so is it impossible to discover a people, however backward or degraded they may be in other respects, who are without their temples and holy places. The assertion of Plutarch is as true today as it was in his time, namely, that one may find tribes of men so sunk in barbarism that they live without any of the amenities of civilized life which to us are necessities; they may lack the shelter of fixed dwellings or fortified cities; their industry and commerce may be but the rough and ready barter for the immediate needs of the day; they may not know the use of coined money; but one thing they do not lack, that is, a priesthood of some kind and temples or sacred edifices wherein to worship.
When we find that a custom has been universally observed by mankind at every period of its history, the laws of right thinking force us to the conclusion that here there is no mere blind instinct at work. On the other hand, it is scarcely conceivable that sheer fear and terror of the unknown could have held mankind in thraldom during so many centuries, and caused them to raise altars and sanctuaries in which to propitiate the inevitable decrees of fate. Notwithstanding all its miserable aberrations, its cruel and often sordid and degrading circumstances, the worship even of pagan temples bears witness to a great law so deeply engraven upon the conscience of mankind that nothing can obliterate it. This law is simply that of our existence, the one supreme scope of which is the worship of God. Idolatry is a corruption, a deviation from the purity of primitive religion; yet, even above the clang and jangle of the most blatant idolatry, there may be heard a note — feeble no doubt, and often all but utterly drowned by the din of strident voices — expressive of a desire for something purer, higher, holier than mere outward observances. This feeble note is simply the voice of the human spirit, which can never wholly forget its Creator, for the plain reason that He made it: Res clamat Domino.
Our hearts are fashioned by God, for His services and love; hence, there can be no happiness, but only restlessness and anguish, so long as a creature does not know itself to be in the hand of its God. The sincere student or observer of human history is driven to the conclusion that the universal agreement of mankind in some of the elementary facts of religious observance points to an initial uniformity and is a reminiscence of happier times. Perfection precedes corruption, not merely in the order of excellence or logic, but also chronologically. Error and ignorance presuppose truth and knowledge. Hence we know for certain that the worship of the true God preceded idolatry. However, let us see what Holy Writ and theology tell us about holy places and consecrated buildings.
III
As Christians, we know full well that God is in all places. In virtue of His immensity He contains, as it were, all space within Himself, and He cannot be said to be held or confined within the limits of the universe, which He made.
"Whither shall I go from Thy spirit?
Or whither shall I flee from Thy face?
If I ascend into heaven, Thou art there:
If I descend into hell, Thou art present.
If I take my wings early in the morning,
And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea:
Even there also shall Thy hand lead me:
And Thy right hand shall hold me."
– (Ps. cxxxviii. 7 sqq.)
St. Paul seems to preclude once for all the idea that God could be found more readily within the four walls of a temple than within the boundaries of the vast temple of nature: "God who made the world and all things therein; He being Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples made by hands, neither is He served with men's hands as though He needed anything" (Acts, xvii. 24, 25). This assertion, put forward as an argument by the Puritans, to bolster up their theories, creates no difficulty if we leave it in its context. St. Thomas gives an admirable reply to those who would use the Apostle's text as an objection against external ceremonies or the use of consecrated buildings. Though somewhat lengthy, it is worthwhile quoting his answer in its entirety, for it gives a theological reason for all the externals of Christian worship, that is, for all liturgical observances:
"The divine worship regards two things: namely, God who is worshipped, and men who worship Him. Accordingly God, who is worshipped, is confined to no bodily place: wherefore, there was no need on His part for a tabernacle or temple to be set up. But men, who worship Him, are corporeal beings: and for their sake there was need for a special tabernacle or temple to be set up for the worship of God, for two reasons: firstly, that through coming together with the thought that the place was set aside for the worship of God, they might approach thither with greater reverence; secondly, that certain things relating to the excellence of Christ's divine or human nature might be signified by the arrangement of various details in such temple or tabernacle.
"To this Solomon refers (III Kings, viii. 27), when he says: If heaven, and the heavens of heavens cannot contain Thee, how much less this house, which I have built for Thee? And further on (ibid., 29, 30) he adds: That Thy eyes may be open upon this house ... of which Thou hast said: My name shall be there; ...that Thou mayest hearken to the supplication of Thy servant and of Thy people Israel. From this it is evident that the house of the sanctuary was set up, not in order to contain God, as abiding therein locally, but that God's name might dwell there, viz., that God might be made known there, by means of things done and said there; and that those who prayed there might, through reverence for the place, pray more devoutly, so as to be heard more readily."
In this rather lengthy passage of the Summa (I-II, Q. cii, a. 4, ad I), St. Thomas puts in its true light the significance of our sacred places and shrines. They are primarily for the help of man, who, not being a purely spiritual being, needs the assistance of material surroundings in order to get in touch with God. The walls of a temple or church are like fences that shut out earthly and temporal interests and pursuits, and so enable his fickle mind to dwell upon the great realities of the unseen world, and even, within the limits now attainable, to meet his Creator in prayer and praise.
The Holy Scriptures are full of instances where certain places are declared holy and set apart by God Himself from all profane uses. At times the patriarchs of old would themselves put up an altar, or a memorial, in places where God had manifested Himself to them. Thus, when Jacob, spending the night in the open, beheld the traffic of a heavenly ladder which connected earth and heaven, he marked the spot in the morning: "And trembling he said: How terrible is this place! This is no other than the house of God, and the gate of heaven" (Gen., xxviii. 17). When Moses beheld the vision of the burning bush, he was bidden put off his shoes: "Come not nigh hither. Put off the shoes from they feet: for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground" (Exod., iii. 5).
As regards the construction of sacred edifices, we know that God Himself commanded the erection, first of the tabernacle, and later on that of the Temple of Jerusalem. Both tabernacle and temple are the outward symbols of Jehovah's presence in the midst of His people: "I will sanctify the tabernacle of the testimony…And I will dwell in the midst of the children of Israel, and will be their God, who have brought them out of the land of Egypt, that I might abide among them, I the Lord their God" (Exod., xxix. 44 sqq.).
Moreover, God was pleased to localize His presence even more particularly. Moses was commanded to make an ark, on which there were to be two golden cherubim, "spreading their wings and covering the oracle." From this place — that is, from amid the wings of the golden cherubim — God deigned to speak to Moses, as being the Ruler and King of Israel: "Thence will I give orders, and will speak to thee over the propitiatory, and from the midst of the two cherubims, which shall be upon the ark of the testimony, all things which I will command the children of Israel by thee" (Exod., xxv. 20, 22). What a marvelous foreshadowing we have here of that other Presence which is the glory of our churches!
When Israel was at last firmly established upon the land of Palestine, the time came to replace the portable tabernacle by a permanent structure, one worthy of the Majesty of Him who was to be adored there. David planned a temple, but the Lord chose not the man of blood and wars, but his son, as Solomon declared on the day of the dedication of the temple: "And the Lord said to David my father: whereas thou hast thought in thy heart to build a house to My name, thou hast done well in having this same thing in thy mind. Nevertheless, thou shalt not build Me a house; but thy son, he shall build a house to My name" (III Kings, viii. 18, 119).
In the First Book of the Machabees we are given a touching account of the ceremonies with which these heroes reconciled the Temple which had been profaned by the Gentiles: "According to the time and according to the day wherein the heathens had defiled it, in the same was it dedicated anew, with canticles, and harps, and lutes, and cymbals. And all the people fell upon their faces and adored, and blessed up to heaven him that had prospered them. And they kept the dedication of the altar eight days..." (I Mach., iv. 54-56).
In addition to the Temple, the Jews had their synagogues in each city and hamlet, where they met for common prayer and the reading of the Scriptures. In the dispersion also, they had their meeting-houses, or, if not numerous enough, or if no suitable place were available within the city, they would meet without the walls, by the sea-shore, or on the banks of some river or lake; these places were called proseuchai for short. St. Luke mentions one of these houses or "places of prayer," for he relates that at Philippi, "upon the Sabbath day, we went forth without the gate by a river side, where it seemed that there was prayer," viz., a place of prayer (Acts, xvi. 13).
If religion were nothing more than a man's personal attitude of mind in presence of his Creator, there might be no need to set apart special places or buildings for the purpose of divine worship. But man is a social being. Hence, religion demands that he should render homage to his Maker, not only as a private individual in the secret chambers of his heart, but that he should join himself to his fellow-men for a common and corporate acknowledgment of the claims of God. As pointed out by St. Thomas in the quotation we have given above, we are warned by the sacredness of the building in which we meet to lay aside all worldly thoughts, so that our spirit, freed from the trammels of earthly cares, may be able to meet its God. The very name, which we bestow upon our sacred edifices, points out their purpose. We call them churches or temples — ecclesiae, templa. The former name (ecclesia) signifies a gathering or assembly of many for a definite purpose, which here is the highest and noblest endeavor of man, namely, praise and adoration of the Majesty of God. The word templum emphasizes another element of the same object, namely, the need of solitude and silence if we would truly seek God, which is secured by separating temnein ourselves from the noise of the marketplace, and sheltering our souls within the calm atmosphere of a building which serves no other purpose except that of prayer.
Now it is obvious that, if Jews and pagans had their shrines and sanctuaries, Christianity also will not be found wanting in this matter. Our worship of God is indeed private and personal, inasmuch as our Lord bids us enter into our chamber, "and having shut the door, pray to the Father in secret" (Matt., vi. 6). But the chief element of Christian worship is the oblation of sacrifice. This can only be done in the name of all and for all. Hence, the presence of the faithful in a body is demanded by the very nature of our liturgical worship; hence also arises the necessity of suitable buildings — buildings, that is, which are not merely adapted to shelter a number of people, but which are likewise not too unworthy of the sublime rites which are enacted within their walls.
However, we have reached the limits of the space allowed us in the discussion of these preliminary notions. It is always useful to go back to elementary principles. Their simplicity is not less admirable than the imposing developments, which logically flow from them. The spacious majesty of the golden halls of St. Peter's in Rome stands in very close relationship to the simplicity of the Upper Room wherein our divine High Priest celebrated the first Eucharistic Sacrifice. © Ignatius Press, 2515 McAllister Street, San Francisco, CA. 94118.
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