By Mathieu Lours
For some time, Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris has been the subject of paradoxical and counterintuitive controversy. The more visitors this place of worship receives, the less suitable it is considered for prayer. The more the cathedral asserts its historical depth, the more it is said to alienate today’s Christians. Does the ideal church, then, consist only of small groups of the already convinced? Should it adopt a neutral, undecorated architecture to facilitate prayer?
This paradoxical return to the ideals of the 1970s and 1980s is surprising, especially at a time when the Church’s vibrant forces particularly its youth are fervently embracing large gatherings and calling for the exaltation of all forms of artistic beauty, including heritage, as a testament to the faith it proclaims to the world.
The restored cathedral
Entering the restored Notre Dame means rediscovering the cathedral’s very essence. Gothic architecture was never meant to be a dark, Platonic cave where a hidden light source merely casts shadows. “God is Light” was not just an instruction to masons to carve out larger windows; it is also embodied in the stone’s warm tones, reflecting light itself. Light has color, found not only in stained glass but also in the painted decorations.
Far from being a mere embellishment or a product of Second Empire kitsch, Viollet-le-Duc’s decorative work in the chapels including the delicate red trim highlighting the vaults demonstrates his profound understanding of what a medieval cathedral truly was: a chromatic universe as much as a luminous one. The 19th-century architect carefully designed the chapels’ ornamental stained glass windows to preserve this balance, ensuring that the interplay of light and color did not compromise beauty.
Within this framework, the new liturgical furnishings now find their place, introducing 21st-century art into the cathedral in a way that is both present and discreet. This serves as a reminder that in the expression “noble simplicity,” the word noble must not be forgotten, it is the cornerstone of what the church demands in its conciliar texts, following the tradition of previous councils. In this light, it is difficult to understand why certain elements of Notre Dame’s historical decor would be deemed inconsistent with the building’s mission and thus subject to removal or replacement.
The challenge of fervor
As for the crowds of visitors passing through the cathedral’s doors, in what way does their presence hinder its spiritual life? On the contrary, its openness to all is a sign of its vitality. In today’s world, how could a cathedral be a place of conversion if it only attracts the already convinced? Large crowds are an inherent feature of great sanctuaries, and the Church must rise to the challenge of maintaining their dignity.
Since the Middle Ages, bishops have issued decrees regulating where the faithful could enter, preventing them from accessing certain areas or even climbing the choir enclosure to get a better view of the Mass. But they never concluded that cathedrals should be deserted and left to secular uses. The vision of a deserted, silent cathedral is romantic, born in the 19th century, precisely when literary and historical perspectives challenged the Christian identity of these buildings.
A Catholic cathedral alternates between three states, three moments: the time of liturgical services, collective prayer, which continues at Notre Dame; the time of personal devotion; candles, prayers, and confessions, which today are more numerous than ever, as the emotion evoked by the place is amplified by its architecture and decor; and finally, the time of movement, of shared experience, as people wander through and immerse themselves in the life of the space.
A testimony to living faith
More than before the 2019 fire, the cathedral’s space now allows for effectively articulating these three states. First, the Blessed Sacrament has been restored to a tabernacle on the high altar. Every visitor, believer or not now understands, or at least senses, that the center of the cathedral is this sacred, inaccessible space, visible from the side railings of the choir. This is the very definition of the sacred that one experiences here.
Furthermore, the chapels’ layout has regained a clear spiritual function, transforming them from obscure corners into integral parts of the building’s overall design. The new reliquary for the Crown of Thorns also affirms the dignity of the space. In this way, Notre Dame continues its unique mission in the heart of Paris. Nearby, less-visited churches offer places of silence, an essential aspect of spiritual life, but not its entirety.
As for Notre Dame, this magnificent, almost magical cathedral, which has met the combined demands of beauty and the sublime for centuries, why should it no longer be capable of being a place of lived faith? – La Croix International
