The most troubling part of the terrible fire that engulfed Notre-Dame Cathedral in April of 2019 was not, in fact, the inferno itself, for anything can be rebuilt, even priceless works of world architecture.
The greatest fear, rather, was how the structure would be rebuilt.
In an age where the dominant themes of Catholic Church architecture are postmodern joylessness and paraboloid severity, there was no guarantee that the beauty of Notre-Dame wouldn't be replaced by something ungainly and grim and awful.
That possibility, alas, appears to be coming to pass:
Paris's fire-ravaged Notre-Dame cathedral risks resembling a "politically correct Disneyland" under controversial plans for its renovation seen by The Telegraph.
Critics have warned that the world-famous cathedral will be turned into an "experimental showroom" under plans to dramatically change the inside of the medieval building.
Under the proposed changes, confessional boxes, altars and classical sculptures will be replaced with modern art murals, and new sound and light effects to create "emotional spaces".
There will be themed chapels on a "discovery trail", with an emphasis on Africa and Asia, while quotes from the Bible will be projected onto chapel walls in various languages, including Mandarin.
The final chapel on the trail will have a strong environmental emphasis.
We can joke about this, if we feel so moved—tactical humor has long been a part of the Christian repertoire, and the jokes about a "discovery trail" in one of the most beautiful cathedrals in the world practically write themselves.
Yet this news is altogether dismaying and alarming for two major reasons.
First, it does not take a large imagination to recognize that these plans will most assuredly take the once-beautiful and mesmerizing interior of Notre-Dame and make it uglier and less appealing—that it will be transformed from a place of hallowed, ethereal beauty to one of nagging, soul-crushing, single-minded worldliness. This is, to put it mildly, no small loss.
We risk a great deal as a civilization when we fail to recognize just how important architectural beauty really is. Beautiful architecture enlivens our spirits and lifts us above the baseline of everyday life. A well-designed and attractive building is an unalloyed good, and a poorly designed and ugly one is psychically depressing and psychologically maddening and awful, like a piece of tough gristle stuck in between one's molars. Miserable buildings make for miserable people.
Second, and most importantly, a dumbed-down and desecrated Notre-Dame will ultimately lead fewer souls to Jesus Christ.
That conclusion is arguably inescapable. The great architects of the great churches of Christian history knew, instinctively and correctly, that a church building's purpose is as much doctrinal as it is practical: That a church building should be recognizable as an active extension of the Christian faith, one that catechizes by its very lines. The great churches use their forms to draw our eyes forward and upward to Christ, offering us a paradoxical combination of hallowed quietude and heavenly splendor.
Dumbing down Notre-Dame with an awful pastiche of "emotional spaces" will not end well. A church itself, properly construed, is already an emotional space. Cramming it full of gaudy political embellishments will serve only to make it less attractive and less evangelical; people will hate the building, and many of them will be driven from both it and the arms of Christ. Let us hope these plans are scrapped and left on the floor where they belong.
