Notre Dame de Paris

The terrible fire six years ago in the Cathedral of Notre Dame, Paris distressed many of us who’d prayed there or just loved the place; but what surprised everyone was the way it shook secular, non-religious, France to the core. 

What could a church, one of hundreds in Paris, mean to people quite so disconnected from religious faith?  It turned out to be a very great deal.  Now all France looks forward to the re-opening early next month of what they realised was the heart of their country.

The iconic structure in central Parish in flames (Benoit Tessier/Reuters)

The building had stood there for 861 years; one of the very earliest in the new, experimental, risky, Gothic style.  The structure soared in height with load-bearing walls that had far too much glass shedding light, rather than carrying weight.  The inside of the roof was a forest, thousands of tree trunks whose particular growth the medieval carpenters understood so well, that they could shape and place each green-wood beam so that they dried into the required shape to carry the roof.  All 300 lead tons of it.

It was this forest that burnt and this lead that melted down gutters forming stalactites on fragile arches and the stones of the interior.  The spire collapsed at last, pushing great holes through the roof over the crossing above where a modern altar had been located.  The firefighters were heroic.  They risked going in and carrying out a plan which may well have cost them their lives, but which ended in saving, not only the building, but also most of the great art works and relics in the place without loss of life.  The Crown of Thorns and St Louis’s tunic were taken out by the Fire Brigade’s chaplain.  A conservator who happened to be on site made lists so that each treasure was marked off as it was re-located and secured in nearby buildings.

The stained-glass “rose” rosace on the south side of Notre Dame Cathedral (Patrick Kovarik/AFP/Getty Images)

Those miraculous stained-glass windows, much of them 12th and 13th centuries, were also held together with ancient lead.  Water was essential, but the firemen knew they had to turn the hoses to half pressure to save the windows from buckling in.  Moreover, soaking the porous sandstone would weigh the walls to the point where they collapsed.  The cathedral was in the process of some restoration, so that a number of its treasures and statues from the roof had been removed for safety – a small consolation at the time.

President Macron immediately announced that Notre Dame would be rebuilt.  But how exactly?  The historians and the architects and the artists, all had differing views on the matter.  As did the French and the international communities.  As it was in the 12th, 14th, 18th or 19th Centuries?  They had a 3D scan recording exactly the pre-fire condition which was useful, but the building had been altered or repaired constantly since its foundation; there was really no ‘original’ church.  Louis XIV had changed the interior to fulfill a vow his father had made, but as Baroque replaced Gothic in public taste the cathedral was increasingly adjusted and neglected.  

Then the Revolution hit Paris in the summer of 1789, church and religion were banned and all church property was resumed and despoiled by the state.  A ‘Goddess of Reason’ was enthroned on a replacement altar, and most artworks dispersed. 

The Coronation of Napoleon by Jacques-Louis David

By the time it came for Napoleon’s Coronation, parts of the decayed interior had to be covered in drapes, but the ceremony itself gave him political legitimacy (Pius VII came to Paris for the occasion, but the emperor crowned himself – he owed his role to no-one else).  After Waterloo and the emperor was replaced by a king – as though nothing – no Revolution – had happened in the intervening 26 years, an ageing Louis XVIII entered Paris in triumph and went straight to Notre Dame to hear a Te Deum.  Thereafter, the cathedral continued to decay; it was rescued by the unlikeliest of circumstances.

In 1831 Victor Hugo published the bestselling novel The Hunchback of Notre Dame, and part of his narrative was a celebration of the great Gothic building itself.  All France suddenly discovered that they had a national treasure that was at a point of collapse and ‘restoration’ plans were put in train.  But what was restoration?  Restore to what?  The architect in charge, Viollet le Duc, was a Gothic enthusiast and he removed many of the alterations that had accrued through history, and then a stream of sculptors began making new statues of saints, gargoyles, chimeras and other Gothic elements he had seen elsewhere which he felt were in the original spirit of the place.  The small 13th Century spire which had been taken down years before the Revolution he replaced with the taller Fleche which fell so spectacularly through the burning roof.  Viollet le Duc was savagely criticised at the time, but over the 20 years it took to finish repairs most accepted the new old cathedral. 

The last century was relatively easy on the church’s fabric.  A politico-religious crisis in 1904 saw Notre Dame among 79 great cathedrals in France become the property and responsibility of the State, but the Church continued to use them as places of worship.  Thus, restoration today of the building’s fabric is the responsibility of the State rather than the Church.  Joan of Arc’s beatification was celebrated there in 1909 nearly 500 years after her burning; it was seen as a national morale booster for both Church and State.  Through two World Wars the cathedral survived, thanks especially to the German general who refused Hitler’s command to destroy the city as their forces withdrew in 1944.  Few could forget the image of Charles de Gaulle who, as free French Forces relieved the city, strode into Notre Dame for another Te Deum.  German snipers were still hiding in the galleries; those around him looked up apprehensively as he went to the heart of France to proclaim French freedom.

Now

The old altar beyond the choir survived the fire as did the windows and the great organ whose 8,000 pipes and 115 stops have been newly restored.  But the transept or crossing area where there was a more recent altar has been entirely replaced.  The fire-cleaned stone interior of the church is white and filled with light.  The new altar is beautifully shaped and spare and the cathedral chair is pared down to simplicity as is the modern bronze lectern.

The new fittings have a ‘noble simplicity according to the norms of Vatican II’ according to the Archbishop of Paris, but have been savaged by some art critics as being simple to the point of utilitarian.  The arguments only reflect how much of France is invested in this lovely place. 

Guillaume Bardet’s liturgical furniture for Notre Dame de Paris

In this photo the new fittings are framed by the old, with the great high altar in the distance surmounted by the gold cross that miraculously survived the fire. 

Notre Dame welcomes 15 million visitors each year.  The majority of these are tourists (as opposed to worshippers) but they refuse to charge an entry fee because all are welcome.  Secularism is part of the French vocabulary, but the very word implies an acknowledgement of its opposite, the sacred.  And that all are welcome in this battered, neglected and reborn sacred place might be a paradigm for us all.

In our own churches we might even find our soul.

By Sandy Curnow

Published: 8 November 2024