This week’s flames at Notre-Dame de Paris sunk us into collective grief and then unified us in hope, as we learned that much of the structure and most of the art had been saved. Many Gothic cathedrals have been lost to flames, but in their grace we forget their fragility.
Notre-Dame has stood on Paris’ Île de la Cité for the better part of 1,000 years. Having almost lost her, it is both sobering and gratifying to consider the cultural artifacts that last from generation to generation. So little survives: works of literature (many of them fragments), examples of religious sculpture, a little music, sacred buildings in varying states of disrepair. We hold on to these traces of western cultures, but to what end? Might it be better for us to loosen our grip on these tangible bits of our heritage?
Like many other French cathedrals, Notre-Dame de Paris honors the Virgin Mary. The most venerated feminine figure in the Christian tradition, she symbolizes a compassionate feminine power. Divine figures of other traditions represent this same quality—Guanyin and Tara in Buddhism and the goddess Kali in Hinduism, to name but a few. The sacred spaces we erect in their honor frame and focus the universal energy that we attribute to the divine, feminine figures. Sacred spaces help us to access these figures and the invisible power we’ve given to them.
Their energy is eternal though intangible. Do we even need to honor Mary, Kali, Guanyin, and other feminine figures with special spaces? Of course we do. But let us embrace the constantly changing nature of scared spaces. Cathedrals will crumble or burn. The generative emptiness they leave will make way for new or altered sacred structures.
And let’s remember that although places like Notre-Dame de Paris can change the course of our spiritual lives, the protective power of the Virgin Mary is by no means contained within a building. The knowledge that moves from generation to generation is indiscernible to the eye and revealed in the soul. Having grown up Catholic, I have always felt connected to Mary, but not because of a church. The rose is my most personal, profound reminder of Mary. Her flower is recalled in cathedrals’ rose windows, but for me the rose is entwined with family, with a Catholic upbringing, and with womanhood. I see roses everywhere, and Mary’s flower is always sure to unlock the healing, compassionate energy she embodies.
Inspirations
Another magnificent cathedral: Notre-Dame de Chartres
Clearing Space and evening walks
Rewriting a Symphony in Stone, by Summer Brennan
Beautifully said. Thank you.