A Biblical Theology of Architecture?

While policeman and emergency responders crawl over the bricks and wreckage in the Dubar square in the city of Patan Nepal, sweeping the raw materials that once were ancient monuments, there sits a man, Ratna Muni Brahmacharya, gathering up his fallen city. After collecting handfuls of debris, he moves into his workshop where he sits with a knife in one hand as he begins to carve a statue of Buddha out of the ruin. In recent weeks, Nepal has been devastated with the aftereffects of a whopping 7.8 Mw earthquake killing more than 7,000 people leaving entire cities toppled to the ground, homes laid to waste. While the majority of Nepal’s community scrambles to find water, food, and medical aid, Ratna Muni Brahmacharya, whose life’s work has been the restoration of Nepal’s unique architecture, weeps over the fallen buildings that date back four centuries. He knows that this rubble is more than just bricks, and these buildings were more than the sum of their parts. As Ratna explains, “This is our identity, our pride” as he continues to carve and break down the materials, “We have to rebuild. We have to bring back the square in the same condition. We have lost a part of our heritage, but our culture is still intact,” he concludes, “We can revive our heritage.”[1]

Architecture is more than just bricks laid in pattern, more than raw material, more than sets of walls or stylized ornamentation. Ratna understands this; architecture is the means by which humanity experiences some of the most sacred realities. Architecture is built into the very fiber of humanity’s need to create and “make a place for themselves.” Humanity creates and inhabits and in the process creates categories as radical as the home, sanctuary, town, village, and city. Humans, as embodied creatures, cannot be divorced from their surroundings and their surroundings cannot be divorced from their perception of reality. It therefore follows that architecture gives weight to how one relates to and perceives the world.

As humans we are deeply affected by the spaces we occupy and how we experience them through our senses and our unconscious thought. Take the reader of this paper for example: as one reads these lines he/she is most directly related to the room they occupy whether it be a classroom, office, living room, bedroom, hospital, church, or auditorium which directly affects the manner in which they read (comfortable, closed-in, academic, stressful, tired, etc.). Created spaces have the power to change psychological and sociological moods that affect our perception of reality. Inversely, humans are the creators of architecture. In this way, we both shape architecture and are shaped by architecture. Man’s creation and material cultivation of space is interactive and cyclical which echoes the God who is affected by His own creation.

Therefore, it is necessary and pertinent to attune our senses to a faithful approach to our freedom in building structures and creating architecture. There is poorly planned architecture that may have damaging effects. For example, an architect trained in amusement and entertainment auditoriums should not bring his methods and styles to bear on the construction of a new hospital. Architecture can either have a profound conductive influence that channels healthy realities, or manipulative effects that leave inhabitants untethered or manipulated by their spatial surroundings.

Moreover, architecture is not only a means by which humans communicate and relate to one another; architecture is the avenue by which God and His creation relate to one another. Let us not forget that humanity reflects the image of the Great Architect who set the earth on its foundation (Ps 104:5). There is then, a heightened sensitivity for faithful architecture in what one might call “sacred space”; the physical localization wherein God’s presence is guaranteed. In recent decades, the modern architecture movement has moved into ecclesiological architecture, creating the “wal-mart-ization”/consumerism/warehouse effect that is muddling the church’s witness and purpose: invoking the presence of God through real concrete manifestation. The church itself needs to recalibrate its drafting board by rethinking the biblical theology of architecture to once again radiate theological imagination in her visual theology. Far too often the ear has been given primacy over the eye.

The First Architect

The first words of Genesis speak of a Maker, a Builder, a Creator (Gen 1). Most think of this as creating things from apparent ex nihilo, from nothingness, and therefore giving these things a material existence. This is in glaring contrast to an ancient cosmology that believed that something existed when it had a role and function in an ordered system.[2] This is central to the original Hebrew, “In the beginning, God (bara’ or created).” In the beginning refers not to a point in time when there was not matter and then suddenly God created matter. In the beginning refers to a period wherein God bara’ (gives functions) to all of the universe. It follows that the narrative in Gen 1:2 starts “with no function (not with no matter) and assigns functions by separating and naming.”[3] On day one, the Lord separates a period of light from a period of darkness, on day two, the Lord sets up the basis for weather, on day three the Lord sets up basis for growing food. After this, God assigns functions to each of these spheres intended to give life to humanity.

What is going on is more than simply creating something out of nothing. God is designing the cosmos in such away as to create/build/design a temple. The cosmos in ancient thought are portrayed as a temple. Inversely human-made temples are considered micro-models of the cosmos. As John Walton points out:

Temples are built in the ancient world for the gods to rest in, which does not refer to relaxing, but to enjoying and maintaining security and order. God is creating his dwelling place, putting people into it as his images (representatives), and taking up his place at the helm to maintain the order he has established.[4]

Traditionally after temples were constructed, there was a 7-day dedication where the functions of the temple were explained, the furniture was installed, the priests would attend their call, and the deity would rest and take up his presence in his temple. Therefore, it can be shown that Genesis is the dedication of the cosmos to the order and design of the Great Temple Architect who has designed reality in such a way that is faithful to maintaining order, functionality, and the flourishing of life. We, therefore, have a God who is committed to the design of materiality that produces order, functionality, doxology, life, etc. As God separates in the first three days, He declares that spatial realities are of the utmost importance for the ordering of His Temple.

Fallen Architecture

After the incredible act of ordering the Divine Temple, YHWH lends over his tools to His image bearers to create, rule, and have dominion (Gen 1:24). Often cited as the cultural mandate, man is given the order to “go and do likewise” (c.f. Luke 10:37), in other words: go out and learn how to paint, learn commerce, exchange goods and services, plan cities, build skyscrapers, pave roads; go and cultivate. However, this does not give humanity complete freedom and autonomy to design and create whatever they think is best. It must align and adhere to the ordering of the cosmic Temple and the motivation of YHWH; this is precisely the standard that humans fail to accomplish.

The Tower of Babel (Gen 11) stands as humanity’s fallen response to YHWH’s architectural plan of integrity. Representing man’s own achievement and autonomy, this tower made of clay and stone is reason enough to provoke the wrath of God. The tower itself does not provoke God’s wrath, however architecture used for the purpose of self-exaltation (“come let us make a name for ourselves”) is deemed unholy.

The architecture of Babel is the reversal of God’s Divine Ordering. Through this real and concrete craft man plays creator: notice “Come” and four times: “Let us make, and let us; let us build a city and let us make a name for ourselves” (v.3–4) echoing the original creation narrative. As Craig Bartholomew explains, “Imitating God’s creation of man out of the dust of the ground, the human race begins its own project of creation by firing and transforming portions of the earth.”[5]

Moreover, the tower was built in the distinctive style of a ziggurat, common in Babylonian architecture, the nation later found most opposed to God’s people.[6] This type of tower would typically have six square stages built upon a platform. The base was 185 m square, and at the top of the last tower there was a cell in which a large couch was laid, and by it a golden table; the cell was reserved for the god, who came and rested on the couch. The total height of the tower was approx. 85 m.[7] Thus as Kass notes,

The house of the foundation of heaven and earth thus sought to link the city with the cosmos and to bring the city into line with the heavenly powers that be, or — perhaps, conversely — to bring the powers that be into line with the goals of the city. In more ways than one, the towered city, is in principal, ‘cosmopolis.’[8]

YHWH’s appointed representative/image bearers vie against the Divine in a mutiny of bricks laid in pattern that results in dispersion and confusion. God counters man’s spatial concentration with a very real spatial scattering. YHWH will not have His temple turned on its head.

The Architect’s Blueprints

As the cultural mandate unfolds, God’s people find themselves in slavery to yet again another “cosmopolis” in Egypt. Under Pharaoh’s tyranny, the people of God spend their days making bricks (Ex. 5:7) for the evil intentions of another human agent who intends to usurp YHWH’s power through vast construction of an architectural empire. Through the plagues, YHWH calls His people out into the wilderness where He instructs them in detail about a new holy type of architecture, giving them the actual blueprints (Ex 25–31).

The redemption of man’s previous building errors is the tabernacle where God Himself will descend and live amongst the people, the direct reversal of the Tower of Babel. This God does not use architecture to vie for power, but to vie for relationship.

As Moses ascends the mountain to receive the law and the requirements for the tabernacle, YHWH hands over the blueprints so that he can descend and dwell in the midst of His people. This tabernacle functioned as a primary symbol of God’s presence in the world and among his people, who were “on the move,” while they were in the wilderness. It was intended to be mobile, moving with the people as they wandered, and therefore was never considered to be a “permanent” house for God.[9] But as a dwelling place for YHWH, this tabernacle was specifically and intricately detailed so that it would function to provide a micro-cosmos model mentioned prior. The architectural plans stretch 7 entire chapters in the book of Exodus, the book of Israel’s identity. These plans were not generalized or suggestions, but were specific in materials, measurements, and ornamentation, which suggests the staggering reality that the God of the cosmos is radically concerned with the materiality of man’s construction (bars of acacia wood; fine twined linen and blue and purple and scarlet yarns; curtains from goats’ hair; rings of gold; clasps of bronze; rams’ skins, etc.). YWHW does not stick up His nose at architectural style questions of scale, volume, design, lighting, texture, and articulation of décor, because the God of the Bible relates in present concrete manifestations. Moreover, the God of the Bible understands that architecture has a profound effect upon both humanity and their relationship to Him. This tabernacle’s architecture functioned for the ritual cultus of Israel, giving liturgical priestly mandates for the way in which God relates to humanity. This holy architecture was an articulation of faith in material form.[10]

The architectural plan of the tabernacle highlighted a strong reference to God’s immanence. Neither the scale nor volume of the tabernacle overwhelmed the worshippers; it appeared to be more inviting by virtue in comparison to the next piece of architecture made for YHWH. This is not to say that the tabernacle did not convey YWHW as a God of transcendence, for the tabernacle space was organized according to a hierarchical plan that permitted various people to some restricted areas. The emphasis of this kind of architecture was more intimate and immanent, rather than distanced and transcendent.

Solomon’s Temple

As Israel is finally ushered into the Promised Land and the Davidic line is established, Solomon is given the privilege and opportunity to construct a permanent Temple in a permanent sanctioned geographical location: Jerusalem (1 Kings 5–8; 2 Chron 2–7). As this construction was presented to Solomon, YHWH also shared in guiding the construction and design of an elaborate, permanent place of worship in the capital of the land. There is significant difference between the tabernacle and Solomon’s Temple. The scale and volume of the Temple far exceeded the tabernacle. Thus worshippers were welcomed with a sense of awe through an awareness and sense of the transcendence of God. As Torgerson explains, “this was achieved by virtue of the diminished significance of the person in relation to the size of the temple.”[11] The organizing principles and general layout were similar in scale to the much smaller tabernacle but with extraordinary ornamentation and sheer size, God was theologically communicated as “holy other.” In this way architecture is not simply the container for religious or theological discourse but the means by which faith, theology, and YHWH is communicated to the community.

There is then a great opportunity to design and construct a place of worship that is conducive to a healthy worship setting, and there is also a great danger that architecture may play too central of a role so that it either muddles the theological witness of the community or becomes the object of worship itself. From an early point of Israel’s history, her architecture has served to provide a material articulation of her faith. The two components that are always in tension in religious architecture are the immanence and transcendence of God. As the church, as new community distinct from Israel emerges, it is concerned with idolatry and the misuse of such spaces due to the idolatry, legalism, and misuse of the temple in Israel’s history. There is a great danger in over-emphasizing either the architecture of immanence in the tabernacle or the architecture of transcendence in the temple, posing a difficult question of how to wed the two together. The Lord will answer this question of material faithfulness in the most physical way: the Incarnation.

God and Flesh made Temple: The Wedding of Transcendence and Immanence

As the God-Man, Jesus Christ enters the scene, he makes the startling statement, “I will destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days” (Jn 2:19). Everything that Israel stood for, articulated in the rituals and cultus found in the temple, was being redefined by the person and work of Jesus Christ: the ultimate Immanence and Transcendence of God. This man sacramentally reinterprets the entire history of Israel’s architecture through Himself. For Jesus Christ is the direct image of the Father (Col 1:15; Heb 1; Eph 1), previously articulated by the Temple system where atonement was made for sin, worship occurred, and God and man communicated. But notice, this does not void the meanings and theological significance of the architectural function of the temple.

The majority of Jesus’ ministry and work is articulated through architectural terms found in the temple. Take for example the mercy seat found on top of the Ark of the Covenant where atonement, propitiation, and expiation was centered on the day of atonement; Jesus Christ makes a final atonement, propitiation, and expiation through himself (Heb 9:5; c.f. Ezek 43). The entire functions of the priesthood found both in the tabernacle and temple are consummated in the High Priest Jesus (Heb 4:14–16). Moreover one of the most staggering examples of Jesus redefinition of holy architecture is found at the moment of his death: “At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split” (Matt 27:51). What many miss is the overwhelming truth that Jesus makes the transcendent God immediately immanent and present to believers through a real tangible textured piece of torn architectural linen. Far too often in the church age, believers have over-spiritualized, over-sentimentalized and figuratively read a very real and concrete way that God makes Himself known to the world: through architecture. Everything that the temple and its ceremonies represented and proclaimed had been accomplished in the person of Christ. As André Biéler says, “the communication of the living God unveiling Himself in the work and person of Jesus of Nazareth, does not occur in a vacuum.”[12]

Thus Jesus Christ does not “cancel” out the temple but rather soaks up like a sponge all the theological significance that the material building communicates, and assumes it in Himself. Jesus’s work is a reinterpretation of the dwelling of God in Creation, from a concrete edifice to living physical flesh and blood. If this is the case, and believers are now also considered a “living temple”(1 Cor 3:16; 1 Peter 1:25; Matt 18:10), what role does architecture play in the church age that believers now find themselves in?

Toward a New Church Architecture of Ancient-Future

From the time of Pentecost, the beginning of the distinct Christian community, the need of a place/building has been present. The physical building of the church however, does not fulfill rituals and religious cultus, as in the tabernacle and temple sacrificial systems prior. Still, the church building is necessary for the gathering of believers. Over the centuries, the history of church architecture has grown and developed from house-churches, to Martyrions, to Constantinian basilicas, to modern architecture. Throughout this development the same need for a balanced view of immanence and transcendence has been particularly difficult to accommodate.

Martyrions (church buildings built upon the graves of martyrs — believed to have a particularly potent presence of God) countered the intimacy of house-churches that emphasized the brotherhood of believers and the “God in our midst.” The Modern church architecture of immanence countered the “High-Church” Constantinian Basilicas that emphasize hierarchy and transcendence. Church architecture throughout history has had the difficult task, similar to Israel, of holding these two aspects in tension: the next generation swings the pendulum back, and the next the other way. Therefore, church architects, planners, and pastors must consider carefully visual forms, as contextual internalized realities, because their color, shape, line, size, texture, weight, and other formal elements carry important theological potential.[13] It is not so much one aspect of church architecture as the grand picture the church architect paints that bears witness to particular theological distinctives. As Christy Newton explains, “The power of these spaces, the richness of their theological allusion, depends not nearly as much on the voice of any individual element in them as in the dialogue and polyphone they create as an ensemble.”[14]

Presently, the pendulum has swung drastically far on the spectrum in favor of a God of immanence. Following the theological convictions of Schleiermacher and cultural concerns of Dietrich Bonheoffer, the church of the 20th century has constructed buildings that communicate the God who is present and accessible anytime anywhere, a response to the great horrors of the 20th century. As André Biéler states,

The lingering question for Bonhoeffer was, “How can we be ‘church’ in a meaningful way in the modern world?” Bonhoeffer’s fragmentary thoughts on a religionless Christianity would influence modern church architecture, even provoking what Lutheran architect Edwared A. Sovik would call “nonchurch” architecture for Christian communities.[15]

This influence on modern church architecture has developed and led to the rise of the “warehouse/wal-mart” church that refuses iconographic language and ornamentation in building design. Western utilitarianism has valued functionality well above any concern for beauty or iconographic language; thus the creation of what Schloeder frustratingly calls “white-washed barns” of modernity.[16] It continues that with the emphasis of rationality, art/liturgy/visual theology has been exchanged in favor of auditory knowledge of the ear.

William Dyrness also voices his frustration:

Visits to a variety of our contemporary evangelical worship spaces led me to wonder if our worship spaces, filled as they are with words– preaching, announcements, even our singing– can fix and hold our faith for us? Can words ultimately, by themselves, fix our minds and hearts in a way that shapes us theologically? Like the ever-changing images on the omnipresent screen, lacking any fixed spatial reference point, do words too slip and slide around?[17]

This modern architecture movement has led to the rise of the multi-purpose sanctuary transforming worship spaces into gyms, auditoriums and theaters.

I propose that this movement has unfaithfully swung the pendulum too far and at its extreme flattens the presence of God rather than communicating the “God in our midst.” Thankfully, church architecture is slowly beginning to move towards a postmodern architecture movement, lifting the strict ban on ornamentation, allowing for a richer iconographic language in building design. No longer do churches need to accommodate to transform empty boxes into their areas of worship.

Once again, theological meaning, aesthetic dignity, material sustainability, and cultural distinctiveness are at the forefront of architect’s minds in designing worship spaces. The church may once again have a visual witness to the surrounding community and stand tall against the backdrop of western functionalistic humanism. A postmodern architectural world may be a new avenue for faithful church architecture. The rich language of historical designs has once again been sanctioned as an appropriate source for architectural inspiration, a windfall for church architects.[18] In hopes of not swinging the pendulum back too far, both immanence and transcendence, beauty and functionality need to be held in tension as the church seeks to recapture its image and intuitively understand that ritual and ceremony are necessary for lives that are fully human. This holy architecture seeks to capture humanity’s eyes and ears to realign our hearts and minds with the divine ordering of the Cosmic Temple of Creation.

Therefore: we might learn to say with John of Damascus, “I salute all remaining matter with reverence, because God has filled it with his grace and power.” In short, evangelicals may come to see that the church is not at all like a garage; it is more like a richly furnished home into which we may gladly invite our friends and neighbors.[19]

SOURCES:

Bartholomew, Craig G. Where Mortals Dwell: A Christian View of Place for Today. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2011. Print.

Biéler, André, and Karl Barth. Architecture in Worship: The Christian Place of Worship. Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd, 1965. Print.

Dyrness, William A. Poetic Theology: God and the Poetics of Everyday Life. Grand Rapids, MI: W.B. Eerdmans Pub., 2011. Print.

George, Mark K. Israel’s Tabernacle as Social Space. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2009. Print.

Heidegger, Martin. Poetry, Language, Thought. New York: Harper & Row, 1971. Print.

Jacobsen, Eric O. The Space Between: A Christian Engagement with the Built Environment. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2012. Print.

Kass, L.R. The Beginning of Wisdom: Reading Genesis. New York: Free Press. 2003.

Kieckhefer, Richard. Theology in Stone: Church Architecture from Byzantium to Berkeley. New York: Oxford UP, 2004. Print.

McCarthy, Julie. “To Restore Its Shattered Treasures, Nepal Has A Secret Weapon.” To RestoreIts Shattered Treasures, Nepal Has A Secret Weapon. NPR, 3 May 2015. Web. 03 May 2015. <http://www.npr.org/2015/05/03/403786690/to-restore-its-shattered-treasures-nepal-has-a-secret-weapon>. Newton, Christy M. “The “Sin” Of Wal-Mart Architecture: A Visual Theology Reflecting

Economic Realities.” Implicit Religion 12.1 (2009): 21–50. ATLA Religion Database with ATLASerials. Web. 1 May 2015.

Scholeder, Steven J. Architecture in Communion: Implementing the Second Vatican Council through Liturgy and Architecture (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1998).

Ryken, Philip Graham. Art for God’s Sake: A Call to Recover the Arts. Phillipsburg, NJ: P & R Pub., 2006. Print.

Tillich, Paul, Jane Dillenberger, and John Dillenberger. On Art and Architecture. New York: Crossroad, 1987. Print.

Torgerson, Mark Allen. An Architecture of Immanence: Architecture for Worship and Ministry Today. Grand Rapids, MI: William. B. Eerdmans Pub., 2007. Print.

Walton, John H. Genesis 1 as Ancient Cosmology. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2011. Print.

Williams, A. N. The Architecture of Theology: Structure, System, and Ratio. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2011. Print.

Wiseman, D.J. “Babylonia and Assyria, Religion of.” In vol 1 of International Standard Bible Encyclopedia, edited by G.W. Bromiley

[1] McCarthy, Julie. “To Restore Its Shattered Treasures, Nepal Has A Secret Weapon.” To Restore Its Shattered Treasures, Nepal Has A Secret Weapon. NPR.

[2] Walton, John H. Genesis 1 as Ancient Cosmology. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2011. 4.

[3] Ibid. 4.

[4] Walton, John H. Genesis 1 as Ancient Cosmology. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2011. 4.

[5] Bartholomew, Craig G. Where Mortals Dwell: A Christian View of Place for Today. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2011. 36.

[6] Wiseman, D.J. “Babylonia and Assyria, Religion of.” In vol 1 of International Standard Bible Encyclopedia 402.

[7] Bartholomew, Craig G. Where Mortals Dwell: A Christian View of Place for Today. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2011. 37.

[8] Kass, L.R. The Beginning of Wisdom: Reading Genesis. New York: Free Press. 2003. 230.

[9] Torgerson, Mark Allen. An Architecture of Immanence: Architecture for Worship and Ministry Today. Grand Rapids, MI: William. B. Eerdmans Pub., 2007. 7.

[10] Torgerson, Mark Allen. An Architecture of Immanence: Architecture for Worship and Ministry Today. Grand Rapids, MI: William. B. Eerdmans Pub., 2007. 7.

[11] Torgerson, Mark Allen. An Architecture of Immanence: Architecture for Worship and Ministry Today. Grand Rapids, MI: William. B. Eerdmans Pub., 2007. 7.

[12] Biéler, André, and Karl Barth. Architecture in Worship: The Christian Place of Worship. Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd, 1965. 1.

[13] Newton, Christy M. “The “Sin” Of Wal-Mart Architecture: A Visual Theology Reflecting Economic Realities.” Implicit Religion 12.1 (2009): 21–50. ATLA Religion Database with ATLASerials. 22.

[14] Ibid. 23.

[15] Biéler, André, and Karl Barth. Architecture in Worship: The Christian Place of Worship. Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd, 1965. 16.

[16] Scholeder, Steven J. Architecture in Communion: Implementing the Second Vatican Council through Liturgy and Architecture (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1998). 223.

[17] Dyrness, William A. Poetic Theology: God and the Poetics of Everyday Life. Grand Rapids, MI: W.B. Eerdmans Pub., 2011. 250.

[18] Torgerson, Mark Allen. An Architecture of Immanence: Architecture for Worship and Ministry Today. Grand Rapids, MI: William. B. Eerdmans Pub., 2007. 208.

[19] Dyrness, William A. Poetic Theology: God and the Poetics of Everyday Life. Grand Rapids, MI: W.B. Eerdmans Pub., 2011. 252.