Abstract
Murray Rae was encouraged, as was I, by Jeremy Begbie’s project ‘Theology through the Arts’, in which I was privileged to participate. Many readers will be familiar with Begbie’s imaginative and creative work on how improvisation in music can illuminate theology, as they will be with Sam Wells’ equally impressive work on improvisation in drama and Christian ethics. The theme has been taken up by Greg Jones and his work on traditioned innovation. This excellent book focuses attention on the way in which good architectural design, which equally involves improvisation on a theme, can illuminate theology.
The author begins with ‘the original text on architectural theory’, Ten Books on Architecture by the Roman architect Vitruvius Pollio from the first century
Moving on to other considerations, he examines the ‘reuse, reappropriation and reinterpretation in Christian Rome of Rome’s pagan past, and particularly its architecture', to offer lessons in favour of an ‘eschatological vision in which the things of earth are renewed rather than destroyed’ (p. 99). He goes on to provide a helpful account of the built environment, noting that in medieval times the architecture of cities was a theological concern – they were built to anticipate the city which is to come (p. 113). Their approach has much to teach modern architects and town planners as well as theologians.
Rae characterizes the first Genesis creation account as concentrating on ‘knowing’ and the second on ‘dwelling’. He examines the connection between the two, suggesting that ‘displacement gives rise to an existential crisis’ and that ‘one of the tasks of architecture is to assist in ameliorating our homelessness’ (p. 152). He considers rationalistic excess in architecture, using Le Corbusier as an example, which he argues accentuates it (p. 159), compared with the example of a small church in his native New Zealand that demonstrates how dwelling is the proper basis for knowing (p. 176), making reference to St John’s emphasis on ‘dwelling’ or ‘abiding’.
In a chapter entitled ‘Presence and absence’ he observes how the arts involved in the shaping of our built environment are adept at negotiating the dialectic between presence and absence; he explores the way in which ‘especially in buildings designed for worship, they have been called upon to give expression to the mystery of God who is both immanent and transcendent’ (p. 187). A chapter entitled ‘Places full of time’ addresses ‘the problematic conception of time that has repeatedly plagued Western thought’, regarding it as an enemy; rather, he encourages us to consider how architecture can enable us to recognize time as ‘the capacious realm of God’s creative, redemptive and formative economy’ (p. 235).
His final chapter seeks to demonstrate that the work of architecture can contribute to the mending of the world to the extent that it begins with a proper understanding of the brokenness of humanity – a theme which, to a greater or lesser extent, runs through the whole book.
This lucid, thoughtful and wide-ranging work of scholarship is a first-rate example in theology of what the author enables us to see in good architecture: creative yet faithful innovation on the tradition.