The Churches

The Churches

    I just had to enclose this image, taken from the back side off of the peak of Mt. Pilatus which was mentioned in the earlier post.  Look closely at the tiny white building just atop the lower ridge...it's a church.  In this remote location, miles from anything and seeming particularly difficult to get to, I wondered who would be the people attending, and who had built it and why in that particular spot?  But even more so, it became a good example of how I felt about seeing most any of the churches throughout Europe, particularly the countries of Switzerland, France and Germany which we had recently visited.  No matter where you went, churches seemed to be everywhere, the clock towers and bell towers appearing poised at their own majesty to a time not all that long ago.

    Just entering some of the larger gothic cathedrals, one is dazzled by the sheer height and size of many of the structures, not to mention the work involved in building such a building (and in many cases, the intricate stained glass windows located inside).  So who did it?  Was it indentured workers, as was the case in the many castles in the area (we were told that the rich owners or royalty provided protection in exchange for required servitude from the masses; this may have been the case with many of the churches as well as only the wealthy or royalty could be buried inside the great churches, their bodies decaying and smelling which led to the term, "stinking rich"); or was it laborers who were paid, skilled masons and engineers who could draw up and direct construction from nearby?.  This quiestion came up some years ago in a PBS Nova segment, Building the Great Cathedrals:  Taller than the ancient pyramids in Egypt, large enough to hold the Statue of Liberty; a hundred million pounds of stone, seemingly weightless, yet as heavy as the Empire State Building.  This is a revolution in building:Gothic cathedrals...From the moment they appear in Europe, about a thousand years ago, they spark an intense rivalry between cities.  They consume the labor of entire towns, sometimes taking a hundred years to build.  With just hand tools and stone, master craftsmen find ways to defy gravity, pushing to greater and greater heights.

The windows of the
church at Colmar

    And yet they appear to now be having some flaws, the stone needing some support from the stresses of today's world.  Having survived bombing concussions from recent wars, the buildings are now facing a new threat, that of pollution.  Massive efforts to keep the stone from eroding or turning black are taking years of delicate and constant cleaning.  In some cases, the threat of flash photography has slowed but the touching and graffiti (while not noticeable on the outside, there was much graffiti on the inside stairwells in places such as the beautiful Notre Dame cathedral of Strasbourg, France) and human oils from skin and breath are multiplying as if the outside had been suddenly and invisibly let in.  Yet even with all that going on, the buildings remain steadfast, and apparently still quite in use as parishioners and tourists and gawkers all come to look at what was accomplished so many centuries ago.

Buttressing at Strasbourg

 

 

   Even within smaller and lesser known cities such as Colmar in France, the churches display their rich history.  Throughout France, you'll discover various Notre Dame cathedrals (besides the most famous one in Paris), each so named for Mary Magdeline, "our Mother," the beacon of the Roman Catholic faith.  336 steps up Strasbourg's Notre Dame cathedral and one stands at one of the highest points of the city, having climbed up through the church innards (most of the cathedrals have steps to the top, but only a few cathedrals allow visitors; in this case, the cost is 5 euro). Then there were the many Protestant churches, a creation of the followers of Martin Luther who were allowed at the time to learn his teachings but not to tell others, leading them to "protest" against the decision and thus locking in the name, Protest-ant.  Nearby one could see the churches of the Dominican order, as sparse on the outside as they were on the inside, a reflection of their beliefs that the simple life they preached should not be contradicted with elaborate decorations and expensive statues either outside or inside.  

One of Juel's  paintings in church

    And then there was the Open Church of St. Elizabeth in Basel, Switzerland (the site is in Swiss-German but it'll give you an idea of programming and history).  When we were there, modern art from the artist Juel lined the walls, a coffeeshop was attached to the exit inside the church (yes, you could have coffee and tea with a pastry while listening to the organ concert, all served to you inside the church on nearby tables), restrooms and climbs to the tower high above were open and available to all.  And still, parishioners came...all seemed and were welcome.  Neo-Gothic in style, the church seemed to reflect what we saw of Switzerland, a newness, a fresh approach (the church is said to be primarily attended by both Catholic and Protestant alike, although other religions and beliefs are openly accepted). 

Inside the Open Church, Basel

 

     Here, summarized from their flyer at the door, is the mission statement of the Open Church of St, Elizabeth: Life is shaped by ambivalence: celebrating and dancing alongside mourning and suffering.  Disease and cure, laughter and tears--an abundance of feelings, experiences and situations.  The Open Church of St. Elizabeth embraces life in all its fullness, through events, celebrations, discussions and spiritual guidance, in various circumstances.  But the church is also a place of quiet reflection...Life is shaped by people, animals, plants--all of Creation...The abundance of and respect for Creation is reflected in the attitude of the staff, in our interactions with visitors and in the manner in which human and natural resources are used...Life in its fullness is a sensory experience that can sometimes seem devoid of sense: hearing, touching, smelling, seeing, tasting.  The scent of life and its beauty, the taste of freedom, love in a tangible form--the aroma of hope and the sound of faith...But there must also be room for the pain, sorrow and hardships of human existence...Men and women, singles, couples and families, differing notions of sexuality, life's mission, different religious and non-religious backgrounds--life's rich tapestry, enriching human existence...the Open Church is committed to openness about issues that are frequently deemed taboo.

The old and the new of part of Switzerland

    It was the perfect way to end our short visit to these cities of Switzerland.  Immaculately clean, extraordinarily quiet (even with the bustling tram cars and trains), very friendly, one guide book summed up the country as "subtle."  It was a good description.  Expensive, yes, but not at all showy.  The fullness of life is not confined to one space, continues the words of the Open Church; the fullness of life is not confined to the here and now.  The Open Church of St. Elizabeth is always looking to the future, focusing on what really matters.   They ended their flyer with a quote from proverbs: Wisdom has built her house, and set up its seven pillars.  She has set her table and she calls: Come, eat my food and drink the wine I have mixed and you will live; walk in the way of insight. 

    Somehow, as we prepared to depart Switzerland, I had come to appreciate a tiny bit of this world, a world of melding cultures and growing attitudes, of moving people and yet having them stay put, of giving people a free life of choice and welcoming it all.  In the busy cities or the empty mountains, the centuries-old cathedrals or the Open Church, there was a reason...and I had been allowed just a glimpse of understanding.