The Architecture of Worship
Reprinted from September 2019.
Many Christians in North America worship in buildings that are intentionally “unchurchy” in character – anonymous, generic spaces similar in style (or lack of style) to stores, offices, and movie theatres. The idea is to eliminate any possible impediment to the visitor, to make the transition from casual consumer culture to the realm of worship seamless. Though very successful at one level (the mega-church phenomenon), questions persist about the consequences of letting secular culture shape the culture of worship. At the same time, traditional churchy architecture still elicits strong positive reactions today – as the docents who open St. John’s to visitors during the week can testify. Grasping the character and meaning of the architecture of worship enlarges and deepens our experience of it.
Since the mid twentieth century, many churches (especially the A-frames common in the suburbs) have been built in accord with the tenets of architectural modernism – analysis of function, “truth to materials”, structural innovation, asymmetry, and absence of ornament. Yet the greatest number of churches, the churches I suspect of popular imagination, are not modernist structures, but appear in forms and styles that were developed centuries ago, either medieval (especially Gothic) or classical (especially Palladian).
So a word about these styles. The classical style, as the name indicates, the forms of classical Greek and Roman architecture, especially those of ancient temples. It is essentially post and beam architecture – upright posts (columns or pillars comprised of shafts resting on bases and topped by capitals) and beams (entablatures comprised of architrave, frieze, and cornice) supporting low-pitched roofs that end in gables (pediments). The specific proportions, profiles, details, and character of these columns and entablatures is established by five distinctive “orders” that modulate from plain to the most ornamental, Tuscan, Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, and Composite. Though classical orders can be used in ways that are sensuously rich (as we find in the Baroque), in North America their use often tends to simplicity and even austerity. Its aesthetic appeal is similar to that of mid-century minimalism: chastity, sobriety, restraint, and proportion are the key concepts. Images there are none or few, and those that are found are clearly separated from the focus of worship. In the context of Protestant spirituality, nothing is to distract the eye, or especially the ear, from hearing and seeing the action of God in the word preached and the sacraments administered; and so their interiors are often flooded with natural light and painted white. It’s a style that dominated North American church building through to the early 19th century, and long after. Good examples of this in Savannah are Independent Presbyterian Church, and Christ Church on Johnson Square. As these buildings attest, there is nothing philistine about this approach to sacred architecture, and some of the greatest Anglican buildings – the churches of Wren, Hawksmoor, and Gibbs – are built in this style.
In the 1830’s, however, there was a huge revival of interest in the styles of the Middle Ages, especially Gothic. One can see this change in comparing Christ Church or IPC with St. John’s, or the Roman cathedral of St. John the Baptist. Instead of the classical column and entablature, the pointed arch prevails; pedimented porches give way to steeples (either single or double), the careful balance of post and beam gave way to upward soaring lines. Instead of a chaste white luminous austerity, both glass and walls alike are infused with glowing color and rich decoration, and they enfold the interior in a shadowy mystical gloom. Most striking of all, was the recovery of the image in worship. If the earlier classical protestantism renounced or restrained the other senses in favor of hearing, this medieval revivalism harnessed all the senses (including, eventually, also smell) for worship. In this, perhaps, we see the new emphasis on religious feeling, a counterpart to the Romanticism of the poets that had been developing since the later 18th century.
(To be continued)