One is impressed about how much of the Bible is given to the planning and construction, from initiation to dedication, of structures that represented the artistry of the faith of God’s people. The plans for these structures were given by God, principally to Moses and David. David, when God rejected him as builder because he had been a man of war, passed them on to his son, Solomon. God appears to have taken intense interest in the projects. If this were to be his house, he would have his say. It was one of the ways in which he could help them maintain their faith. The Lord took charge. If the people wanted a house of God, it had to be proper and represent a place in which his glory (ecstatic holiness) might be revealed. A number of chapters are given to the details of three such projects. The structures became perpetual reminders from God.
In the instructions from God there were included detailed refinements, of architecture, of imagery, of color, of utensils, even for garments of the clergy. Colors emerged as having meaning, such as white for holiness, red for blood, and the like. Certain procedures could be carried through only by the clergy, men who passed through preliminary ritual procedures of cleansing, pointing to holiness. Our interest here relates to architecture. God was the architect of the Tabernacle and the Temple, with the two closely related except for the flexible portability of the Tabernacle and the permanent fixture of the Temple. The synagogue movement replaced the old portability. Today, church artistry has been garbled. During the Christian era domination the cathedral and the tall steeple protected some of the tradition. In the decline the populace is closed off to some of the understanding of theology and elevation of God. Current casualness may be at a high price in the loss of the sense of worship and wonder. I attended a Sunday morning service in a box church where some young men, rather scruffy, and a few young women exposing their navels, several carrying water bottles; and, a casual church service attuned to a rock music concert. It’s not for me.
There are some attempts to preserve physical contexts that enhance spiritual vision, but church buildings today appear to be more inspired by concert auditoria, or stadia, or business buildings than by any effort to make physical plants mirror faith. This is not to carry strong argument for the cathedral approach, but history has suggested that the beauty and meaning of the various cathedral styles contributed affirmatively to the faith of the people. This is now changed. One church in which I spoke was granted permits for construction by city offices with the observation that if the congregation failed, the architecture was such that the church could become City Hall. By contrast, the Chartres Cathedral, as a secular writer put it, Reached for the Divine. This Gothic Cathedral, nearly 800 years old, is: . . . not only a physical but a metaphysical system in which Christian theology is expressed architecturally. This it does in sublime fashion, for to suspend solid masonry over shimmering walls of colored light is to dematerialize matter itself, an architectural demonstration of the doctrine that this imperfect physical earth is but the preface to a transcendent spiritual realm. We build our churches and homes, and then they help build us – to mimic Churchill’s words. Scripture is clear that we can have something divine in our church structures. Currently, we have overlooked that something. At times there appear those who find the artistic inspiration to form current art related to Christian culture in a beautiful and meaningful context that attracts the attention that we want to gain so to advance the gospel through whatever legitimate and persuasive means. Listening to persons talk, and watching their responses, the careful evaluator may not hear the voice of the Queen of Sheba about Solomon and the Temple: The half has not been told. *Mark W. Lee, Sr. — 2016, 2020