Theology in Stone: Church Architecture from Byzantium to Berkeley RICHARD KIECKHEFER OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS Theology in Stone This page intentionally left blank Theology in Stone Church Architecture from Byzantium to Berkeley richard kieckhefer 1 2004 1 Oxford New York Auckland Bangkok Buenos Aires Cape Town Chennai Dar es Salaam Delhi Hong Kong Istanbul Karachi Kolkata Kuala Lumpur Madrid Melbourne Mexico City Mumbai Nairobi Sa˜o Paulo Shanghai Taipei Tokyo Toronto Copyright ᭧ 2004 by Oxford University Press, Inc. Published by Oxford University Press, Inc. 198 Madison Avenue, New York, New York 10016 www.oup.com Oxford is a registered trademark of Oxford University Press All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of Oxford University Press. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Kieckhefer, Richard. Theology in stone : Church architecture from Byzantium to Berkeley / Richard Kieckhefer. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-19-515466-5 1. Church architecture. 2. Liturgy and architecture. I. Title. NA4800 .K53 2003 726.5—dc21 2002153721 Rev. 987654321 Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper To the memory of my mother Virginia Kelley Kieckhefer (1917–2002) This page intentionally left blank Preface Church architecture is a contentious field of inquiry. Polemics, dog- matism, and caricature abound. It would be unrealistic to think any book could resolve the controversies, but a fresh look at the most basic questions about churches, their meanings and their uses, may prove useful to all sides. The incentive to write this book was mixed: it grew out of historical interest, but also out of an urge to see more clearly what churches have meant and what they can mean for com- munities that build and use them. It might seem that the first four chapters deal with theological questions, while the extended case studies that follow shift the focus to history—but in fact theology and history are intertwined throughout. With a book of this sort, readers may have more than the usual degree of curiosity about the author’s background and point of view. Suffice it to say that my most extensive experience of worship has been in Roman Catholic, Orthodox, and Anglican churches; that I am old enough to have recited mass responses for many years in Latin and to have learned plainchant in first grade; that over many years I have visited churches extensively in Britain and North Amer- ica and have had occasion to study them in France, Germany, Spain, Italy, Belgium, the Netherlands, Switzerland, Austria, the Czech Re- public, and Greece; that I dream of exploring the churches of La¯li- bala¯—indeed, I literally dream quite often of visiting churches—but have not yet done so; that my academic research has focused mainly on western Europe in the late Middle Ages; that my doctorate is in history but I have taught for decades in a department of religion; that I have done much work on the history of magic, which I see as viii preface relevant to the broader study of ritual; that one of my maternal grandmother’s uncles was pastor of the first Polish church in Chicago, and some of my in- formation on Saint Stanislas Kostka Church is from an unpublished family history; that I have had considerable experience in a Newman Center designed in the years of experimentation after Vatican II; that I have sung for over a decade in the choir of an Orthodox cathedral; that I have been deeply involved at an Anglo-Catholic church where women are welcomed as priests, where openly gay men and lesbian couples with children occupy positions of lay leadership, and where liturgy and an exceptionally strong music program are balanced by ministry to refugees and others; and that if this book is inspired by any particular theological tradition it is that of liberal Anglo-Catholicism. The last point may seem the most important but cannot be isolated from all the rest. Three people especially have given me the benefit of their wisdom and learning as I have worked on this project. My wife Barbara Newman shares a passionate interest in liturgy and its setting and has contributed immeasurably to the progress of this book at every stage; when I tell of experiences “we” have had in visiting churches, she is invariably my companion. Frank Burch Brown read and gave exceptionally detailed and insightful comments on an early draft; he is largely responsible for giving my research a series of unexpected turns. And Karl Morrison, who read the book when it was in its longest and untidiest state, challenged me helpfully on many points in his double role as scholar and priest. Various specialists have shown themselves kind and generous with their expertise: Wolfgang Pehnt gave perceptive comments for the chapter on Rudolf Schwarz; Rosemary Horrax helped with the chapter on Beverley; Father Mi- chael Komechak, O.S.B., has showed kindness on many visits to Saint Proco- pius Abbey, shared his wisdom on contemporary church design, and provided valuable suggestions on various chapters; and David Van Zanten made clear how my perspective relates to that of an architectural historian. All these in- dividuals have contributed immensely toward my project. I am deeply indebted also to Benjamin D. Sommer for insight into the conceptions of sacrifice in ancient Israel; to David Collins, S.J., for reactions to an early draft; to Richard Webster for giving me a musician’s perspective on the subtleties of church acoustics; to Amelia J. Carr for revealing to me some- thing of an art historian’s grasp of churches in the Chicago area; to Adhemar Dellagustina, Jr., for expert help with photographs; to Marian Caudron for sharing with me her experiences in sacred places; to Edward Muir, for the subtitle; to Stuart Baumann and Linda Kelley, Roger Boden, Emily Erwin, Amancio Guedes, Lawrence Haptas, John Kemp, Angela Lorenz, Susan B. Matheson, Kelli Peters, Maria Schwarz, Claudia Swan, and Michael Swartz, for various kindnesses; to parishioners at Saint Luke’s in Evanston and to students at Northwestern University and Seabury-Western Theological Seminary, for preface ix giving me the invaluable opportunity to learn by teaching; and to Cynthia Read at Oxford University Press for proving the ideal editor for a book of this sort. The interlibrary loan staff at Northwestern University Library have obtained a constant stream of materials to sustain my research habit. Countless people have given me invaluable help on my visits to their churches, including at times the most basic service of providing a key. Unfortunately many of them are nameless to me. I must at least express gratitude to Father Donald Schell and Father Richard Fabian, of Saint Gregory of Nyssa in San Francisco, and Father Johannes Floss and Christa Schinkenmeyer, of Sankt Fronleichnam in Aachen; and Father Duncan Ross, of Saint Paul’s Bow Common. The Northwestern University Research Grants Committee has provided partial support for the publication of this book, and I am grateful for this assistance. Over the decades, several church communities have informed my sense of how ecclesiastical architecture comes alive in a range of liturgical uses: Saint Thomas More Church in Louisville, where I grew up at a time when the church building was architecturally unambitious but the liturgy was more richly de- veloped than I could then appreciate; Sheil Center in Evanston, which accom- modates with equal grace the throngs of Ash Wednesday and the quiet few on weekday afternoons; Holy Trinity Orthodox Cathedral in Chicago, known as the Louis Sullivan church but more importantly a coherent specimen of tra- ditional Russian design; and Saint Luke’s Episcopal Church in Evanston, which was begun in the early twentieth century as a classic Anglo-Catholic church and still (like the Church universal) awaits its finishing touches. Not all these people and communities would agree with what I have to say. But I hope, at least, not to have been blind or deaf to what they cherish and what they have tried to teach me. This book is dedicated to the memory of my mother, Virginia Kelley Kieck- hefer, whose contribution to it was by far the most vital: she first took me to a church for baptism when I was an infant, she took me again when I was a very young child (I looked about and asked where God was, and she said he was all around us), she went with me exploring churches even as her health declined, and now she has passed beyond symbols and metaphors to “that eternal and blessed church” which others prefigure. A Note on Illustrations In addition to the plates given in this book, readers may consult the listing of churches on the Emporis Web site, http://www.emporis.com. This site gives a wide selection of images, including many for churches discussed here. [...]... Italy was to be built of stone His first answer was straightforward: Stone makes it look more like a church There is an instinctive memory of the church built of stone. ” But he went on to comment on the way stone gives a sense of relationship to a particular place: 20 theology in stone As we looked at the empty site there were rocks coming through to the surface and we thought “What about digging stone. .. reference to a church of the mid–twentieth century, United Methodist Church at Northfield, Minnesota, as one example of this form of church (fig 3) The labels suggested are meant to highlight the factors governing the shape of church buildings All churches are evangelical, if only in reading and commenting on the gospel and claiming to worship in its spirit All churches are communal, bringing congregations together... articulating them, by bringing experience to the level of conception That, most basically, is the purpose of this book It is meant to stimulate thinking about churches; to provoke deeper and more broadly informed reflection on the purposes of church architecture, and thus also on the worship carried out in churches; to suggest how one might go about reading a church; to provide conceptual tools and... used in constructing churches, including brick and wood, concrete and glass People have even worshiped in churches made of cardboard, though not for long.32 Stone may seem not to be a neutral or innocent selection from among these materials, standing as it does for monumentality and traditionalism Should we really be taking stone as the normative building material for churches at a time when so few churches... wish their interpretations to ¨ be perceived not as their views projected onto the buildings but as inherent meanings, as if emanating from the very stones Response to a church is learned, and the process of learning requires informed reflection The meanings of a church are seldom obvious One critic suggests of good architecture generally that it “does not make all its meanings explicit.”21 To be sure,... community brings its shared experience and its culture into the act of worship, and that doing so requires a particular kind of building, is equally but less obviously true And it is true in various and potentially conflicting ways, making church architecture immensely exciting and inescapably controversial 1 The First Factor: Spatial Dynamics Entering a church is a metaphor for entering into a spiritual... critical factors in sacred architecture, marking the beginning of spiritual experience, the journey to transformation, and the culmination of the journey, and he construes these journeys broadly enough to include the route from parking lot to church building as well as a passage down the aisle to an altar, pulpit, or other destination.1 The architect Thomas Barrie, in Spiritual Path, Sacred Place, distinguishes... from the strangeness of putting words into the mouth of a building, and apart from one’s suspicion that if the first of these churches could speak it would strike a rather different rhetorical tone, there is a problem here of misplaced attribution If we wanted to sustain the conceit of a church that speaks to people, we would have to note that the same church says different things to different visitors... “assembly,” and apply them to the building as well as to the congregation; others begin with the Greek for “house of the Lord” and apply its derivatives (Germanic terms such as cirice, Kirche, and church ) to the community as well as to the structure.40 In either case, the building and the community, inert and living stones, have meaning in relationship to each other That a church building is a structure... have meanings and uses beyond those immediately perceived Further, there is biblical basis for taking a building of stone as a metaphor for the people who assemble in it: the congregation is a church built of “living stones” (1 Peter 2:5) When the Roman Catholic bishops in America issued their latest document on church architecture, they called it Built of Living Stones.39 The metaphor can work in either . Theology in Stone: Church Architecture from Byzantium to Berkeley RICHARD KIECKHEFER OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS Theology in Stone This page intentionally left blank Theology in Stone Church Architecture. Cataloging -in- Publication Data Kieckhefer, Richard. Theology in stone : Church architecture from Byzantium to Berkeley / Richard Kieckhefer. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN. Modern Churches in a Modern Culture, 229 8. Issues in Church Architecture, 265 Notes, 293 Index, 363 This page intentionally left blank Theology in Stone This page intentionally left blank Introduction Robertson