“The church of Notre Dame itself may soon perhaps be erased from the earth.” ~~Victor Hugo, Notre Dame of Paris, 1831.
Victor Hugo’s 1831 warning that Notre Dame might “soon perhaps be erased from the earth” -would echo with chilling force nearly two centuries later, when the ancient cathedral came within a breath of destruction and his warning came terrifying close to becoming prophecy. He seemed to sense and fear its vulnerability in the careless hands of modern man.
Notre Dame of Paris is now rebuilt, but not necessarily restored. While the magnificent Parisian icon still dominates the skyline, the persistent question is whether it will be rejuvenated, and renewed with tens of thousands of devout Catholics filling its pews with the fervor of St. Joan of Arc, St. Therese of Lisieux, St. John Vianney and St. Genevieve. Will France once again embrace her divine identity as the eldest daughter of the Catholic Church?
While much has been celebrated about the reopening, it’s not in the rebuilding of the edifice that is the point, it is in the rebuilding of the Catholic faith, the restoring of the liturgy, and in the elevation of the sacred that stands the test of time.
During the 5 year billionaire dollar Notre Dame restoration, countless medieval European and Canadian Catholic Churches were desecrated and many burned to the ground. Unlike Notre Dame, few will be rebuilt after devastating fires.
Cathedrals are no longer buttressed by the fervent faith of the believers, who built and sustained them for centuries. They have devolved into mere curiosities—magnificent relics of a vanished age of a foregone era. High above, stone gargoyles and archangels still stand as sentinels symbolically warding off evil. But below, the foundations weaken, the crevices widen, and the great building begins to crack—not from the assault of enemies without, but from the collapse of the faith within.
Abandon the faith, and grace evacuates the space. If the edifice is not reduced to ashes, it will be remade in the image of the age. Out goes Bach, in comes rock, polyphony yields to cacophony, rainbow flags usurp stained glass, sacred stone becomes a climbing wall, Christmas carols are banned as politically incorrect, techno music blasts above saints’ graves during drug fueled, techno dance “raves” in the nave, and homosexuality is the new morality as LGBTQia pride symbols fill the aisles. And finally, the bronze bells fall silent, drowned out by a new call to prayer—heralding the twilight of Christianity and the rise of Islam.
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