November 2026, No. 229
October 2026, No. 228
September 2026, No. 227
Who are the Heralds of the Gospel?
Help of Christians
Christmas Carols
The Middle Ages was an era in which, under the inspiration of the Church, full functionality and perfect beauty were absolutely united. This is not a claim of mine – as a counter-revolutionary – but rather one found in all architectural books dedicated to medieval Gothic art, which was functional in its every detail.
A column transformed into a work of art
Let us consider, for instance, the portal of Amiens Cathedral. At the centre of that magnificent doorway stands a column – essential for supporting both the portal and the building itself; and yet it has been transformed into a work of art.
It obstructs the view of the cathedral’s interior at first glance, thereby offering a delightful surprise to those who enter.
On the upper half of the column, the figure of Our Lord Jesus Christ is displayed – a customary depiction at cathedral entrances – signifying that He is the divider of human destiny: separating those bound for salvation from those bound for perdition.
He is set for the fall and the rising of many, as the prophet Simeon foretold, as a sign of contradiction (cf. Lk 2:34). Here Christ’s historical role is portrayed; here functionality is united with profound thought and exquisite artistry.
The magnificent Rheims Cathedral
Let us consider the façade of Rheims Cathedral, where the kings of France were crowned before the French Revolution. How magnificent it is! It possesses such a wealth of architecture and art that I dare not even attempt to describe it.
What, for instance, is the reason for such deep porticoes? They were designed so that the poor and the homeless – who had nowhere else to turn during a storm – could find shelter beneath the church’s maternal portals, especially in an era when commercial buildings were smaller. What artistry lies in this functional concept!
The towers symbolize the grandeur and eternity of God, as well as the greatness and enduring nature of the Holy Catholic Church. Yet, their towering height and grandeur also serve a practical purpose: they house the bells that must be heard throughout the city and the surrounding areas.
A cathedral cannot remain in darkness. Thus, magnificent rose windows were constructed. Light enters harmoniously through the stained glass – not too much, but in just enough, for an atmosphere of spiritual recollection calls for subdued lighting.
The illumination is proportionate to the building’s size; the dimensions of the stained-glass windows were calculated based on the desired level of light within the interior. What beautiful light – balanced and harmonious!
And why the magnificent colours that turn these stained-glass windows into true jewels? Primarily because the church is a sacred edifice and, as such, must convey lessons from Sacred History and the Faith.
To this end, the windows feature a multitude of figures illustrating points of Catholic doctrine and Church history. It is often said that stained-glass windows served as the Bible for the illiterate.
One might object: “So there were illiterate people in the Middle Ages!…” I reply: “Yes, but what Bibles they had! What a way to learn to read! What a contrast to the little primers used in modern schools… What opulence!”
Indeed, it must be said: compared to all previous eras, the Middle Ages was the period when the greatest effort was made to bring literacy to the common man.
So much so that the printing press emerged just as the medieval era came to a close. How could the press have been of such great importance if no one knew how to read or write?
The cathedral was the palace of the poor. Sumptuous though it was, the humblest person could enter and feel just as at home as a king, a potentate, or a wealthy magnate.
They were treasure troves of art, made accessible to God’s people. With what artistry were figures from history and Christendom – kings and prophets of the Old Testament – portrayed!
Yet all of this played a role – beyond sheltering people from wind, rain, and snow, and directing the light – namely, to instruct and delight the soul. Stained-glass windows thus represent a perfect union between exquisite taste and strict functionality.
The building required many columns, given the construction methods of the time. Yet how graceful, delicate and artistic they are in comparison with those immense modern columns, which seem to have been built at the very moment of a crime, as if to crush a man beneath them, sometimes giving the impression that they lead straight to hell. Medieval columns do not crush: the spirit soars up along them, for they lead to Heaven!
Orvieto Cathedral: a symphony of colours
Another example is the magnificent Orvieto Cathedral in Italy. What makes its exterior unique among medieval cathedrals is that it features paintings rather than sculptures – and what paintings they are! Splendid mosaics, resistant to the ravages of light and time, transform the cathedral into a symphony of colours.
What is the reason for this decoration? Undoubtedly, art. And here we arrive at a profound conclusion: art is essential for the balance of the human soul and for reaching God. Thus, as a manifestation of beauty, it serves a vital function.
Yet there is another advantage: beyond offering instruction to passersby, the mosaics provide excellent protection against the elements, as they are remarkably durable and perfectly preserved.
The entire cathedral appears as though it were built yesterday, even though it has withstood the centuries. It does not bear the magnificent, venerable age of ancient granite cathedrals, but rather a durability that speaks of the eternal – a quality unique to Orvieto Cathedral.
What painting boasts such fresh colours, representing such splendour and such superlative vitality of the soul? Everything about this structure points toward Heaven.
The graceful and majestic Tower of Belém
The Belém Tower in Portugal – built of a material so white that on a moonlit night, as I saw it, it seems made of moonlight itself – is so beautiful one might suppose it was conceived by an extravagant artist in a poetic setting.
But in reality, it stands at the mouth of the Tagus River, facing the ocean, at a vantage point essential for spotting approaching enemies. Its watchtowers were needed to shelter soldiers, and its battlements were indispensable for their defence.
Cannon ports are found in its lower section – everything calculated for a strictly functional maritime fortification.
From one perspective, the tower – so graceful with its battlements and turrets – looks like a toy; yet, being so majestic and strong, it conveys the impression of a true fortress.
Indeed, it was such an effective fortification that, for the standards of the time, it struck fear into any soul so daring as to wish to enter the Tagus.
There is also another reason: when Portuguese fleets set sail to the Indies – the populace, and even the monarchs, would go to bid the crews farewell.
Officials would stand on the upper terrace alongside the king and his court as Portugal’s flags and standards fluttered in the wind; it was a moment of grand farewell and separation for those embarking on adventure, on apostolic missions, and on a quest for the grandeur of Christendom and the Portuguese nation.
Picture a lavish display of banners and tapestries there; the king, the queen, and their court bidding farewell to ships setting sail to discover new lands – bearing the Cross of Christ on their masts – and to bring new peoples into the Roman Catholic and Apostolic Church.
It is a magnificent sight! So beautiful, in fact, that it seems to have been built solely for this epic scene. Here, beauty and practicality go hand in hand: a stupendous lookout that is, undeniably, also highly functional.
What profound respect for the human being is evident in a structure like this! Man feels fully cared for, protected, defended, and guided toward God!
Something similar applies to certain fortified bridges. Compare them to these modern “flat bridges”… they are merely blocks placed over an abyss, by means of a terrifying technique, with cars driving over them.
One might ask: “Why adorn a bridge with towers? They are certainly beautiful, and they make a pleasing reflection in the water, but what purpose do they serve?”
They serve this purpose: each tower on the bridge was a fortification. If the enemy managed to break through at one point, they would still have to fight three separate battles before entering the city. It is a blend of art, good taste, and utility.
Where the soul is, beauty must be
The Château de La Rochepot possesses a truly lovely feature: the beautiful colouring of its roof – cheerful, festive, and designed to be seen from afar, as if announcing the beauty of the structure itself.
The shape of the roof reveals a concern for preventing snow accumulation; it is functionality expressed through art. The good sense of past centuries demonstrated the necessity of art’s presence, for wherever man is found, the soul is present above all – and where the soul is, beauty must be.
Another magnificent roof is that of the Hôtel-Dieu hospital in France. It reflects the concern of our forbearers to infuse art into everything, without sacrificing practicality. It is supremely functional, taking into account man’s spiritual nature and religious purpose.
To show that creating such structures is not the exclusive privilege of the medieval soul – requiring only the will to build them and the backing of a strong Catholic tradition – let us consider one of the castles of King Ludwig II of Bavaria.
Built in the last century,1 the edifice possesses a medieval character and beauty. How superb it is! The rocky precipices – what grandeur they display! It represents a revival of the Middle Ages, one might say, almost in our own times.
Peace, seriousness and happiness
Let us consider Rouen, the city where St. Joan of Arc was burned at the stake. The small bourgeois houses seen there convey a sense of intimacy. One has the feeling that their inhabitants live in a state of profound quietude and calm.
At times, there are small projections on the buildings; perhaps a father had an extra room built when a child was born into the family. The result is so picturesque and interesting that it lends the house its charm and grace.
Rising amidst these small houses is the tower of Rouen Cathedral, soaring upward in a mighty surge toward the heavens. How it mirrors the immense majesty of divine realities!
The tower stands above the commercial town just as Religion stands above all earthly things. One might say the tower grows slenderer as it ascends, almost transforming into the sky itself; it is hard to tell whether its pinnacle is more air than earth, or more light than stone. It seems to inspire a desire to ascend, inviting the soul to rise!
In the preface to the life of St. Elizabeth of Hungary, Charles Montalembert recounts how a Muslim man, taken prisoner by the Crusaders, was granted permission to travel across Europe; upon seeing the cathedrals, he asked who built them. He was then shown a lay brother from a monastery:
“He is one of the men who build these monuments.”
Surprised, he asked:
“How can such humble men build such towering edifices?”
Such is the Catholic soul: humble regarding itself, yet insatiable in giving glory to God. In Rouen Cathedral, the glory of God is sung by a spire that rises higher than any other earthly building.
This is the Catholic Church towering over temporal society; it stands above all else.
The River Seine flows through the city, its banks lined with stone; the streets – far from being highways – allowed one to walk in tranquillity, conversing, praying, pausing, and reflecting.
It was a life made for thought, for recollection, and for work that does not crush the spirit – a life befitting the children of God.
Does not daily life in a small medieval town seem far more pleasant than in vast modern developments? The proportions were human; nothing was overwhelming, and there was no chaos or confusing labyrinths.
On the contrary, there was peace, solemnity, orderly work, and a calm demeanour; above all, there was contemplation, piety and happiness.
