Abstract
On April 15 of this year, the world watched in horror as the cathedral Notre-Dame de Paris burned after 850 years of aesthetic and spiritual testimony to the glory of God. Most of the roof complex collapsed and the flaming spire plummeted to the ground. Though most sacred objects were rescued and the two towers and the rose windows survived, the world became an uglier place that day.
Voices of sadness and lament around the world were soon joined by cries of anger and outrage as an unbelievable amount of money was pledged to rebuild the cathedral while exploited workers—who have been protesting since November 2018 for fair wages—were given nothing. Understandably, the Yellow Vest Movement (Mouvement des gilets jaunes) expressed dismay that over a billion Euros could be found in less than a week to rebuild an old church building while no financial commitments were made to address their plight.
There should not be a zero-sum game between justice and beauty. Addressing the pressing needs of workers for fair wages and rebuilding a symbolic place of transcendent beauty should not be pitted against one another. The truth is that both of these concerns are necessary. A humane and meaningful life requires both goodness and beauty. Private and public funds should support both causes. Because the argument for rebuilding Notre Dame may be a little less self-evident, however, I want to make a brief case for that project on theological grounds.
As a species, we humans have a deep need for beauty. We possess a natural desire for things that are pleasing to the senses and, in the aggregate, enjoyable to body, mind, and will. We have a natural resonance with the patterns, the intricacies, and the grandeur of nature: flowers, birds, mountain vistas, and seascapes. We also long for beauty in cultural constructions like the Taj Mahal, Michelangelo’s Pieta, Beethoven piano sonatas, Chinese ink paintings, Orthodox icons, Muslim geometric patterns, urban murals, Hebrew calligraphy, and Rembrandt’s portraits. Something about beauty resonates with our humanity. Sensitivity to beauty may even make us human. Where there is no artful representation of our experience, no free play or whimsical symbolic expression, we will make them. It’s what we do. It’s the way we have been created. More than that, beauty points us to God.
As we enjoy the wonders of creation, people often come to affirm with John Calvin that it is “the theater of God’s glory.”
1
The entrancing paintings of Van Gogh and of the Hudson River School, for instance, bear witness to this insight of Calvin. When we encounter beauty in whatever corner of the natural or cultural cosmos we happen to find it, we are given theological breadcrumbs that point us to the transcendent beauty of the triune God. Preaching mystically on the Song of Songs, Gregory of Nyssa observed that The perfumed ointment of the Godhead, whatever it may be in its own essence, is beyond every name and every thought, but the marvels discerned in each name and thought provide matter for our theological naming. By their help we name God wise, powerful, good, holy, blessed, and eternal, and judge and savior and the like. And all these refer to some slight trace of the divine perfume that the whole creation imitates within itself, after the manner of a jar for unguents, by the wonders that are seen in it.
2
The spatial and aesthetic beauty of Notre Dame has inspired untold millions across nearly a millennium to see their lives in the light of the mystery of God. That cathedral has had an uncanny ability to orient those who visit it toward the divine beauty that transcends and gives meaning to all of human existence. For the sake of our humanity, Notre Dame should be rebuilt. For the sake of reframing our imaginations and reshaping our wills in line with the grace and compassion of the Trinity, it should be rebuilt. For the sake of struggling workers demanding wages that will make life more human, it should be rebuilt. For the sake of making us all more human, it should be rebuilt.
Footnotes
1
See, for example, Inst. 1.14.20.
2
Gregory of Nyssa, Gregory of Nyssa: Homilies on the Song of Songs, trans. by Richard A. Norris Jr. (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2012), 41. Emphasis added.
3
Augustine, On Christian Teaching, trans. R.P.H. Green (New York: Oxford, 1997), 9–10.