The ill-purposed beauty of that Catholic church
I was surprised the church was open to anybody walking in, there were no services scheduled at that time, and unlike many Catholic churches, this one does not have a Saturday evening service, or I may well have attended. But, as this church is in the middle of a university campus, it probably feels more secure from the random public than other churches that lack a buffer from the mass citizenry of the city. It also backs up to Lake Michigan.
Inside, the organist was playing a mighty pipe organ, perhaps just practicing ... and it sounded beautiful. The interior of the church was clean and breathtakingly pretty, mostly white, and well-lit by the winter morning sun. I took several pictures, and a video to capture the sound of the organ as I swept the camera lens across the stained glass windows.
This church is an official Chicago landmark, and from a purely artistic view, it deserves it.
But the purposes of this sort of beauty ... the purposes toward which this beauty pushes people ... toward the purpose of perpetuating patriarchy, the purpose of perpetuating homophobia. And in the past, Catholicism has pushed people toward anti-Semitism, toward war, toward slavery, and toward torture. The Catholicism we have today, as all should know, was stood up by a Roman Emperor during the 5th Century -- he wrote the Profession of Faith that Catholics still recite today, to push people toward a Church that united with a massively powerful State to keep an Emperor on his throne. There was no democracy, no social safety net, no written Constitution, no civil liberties. Only the promise of everlasting life, for those who would believe in it.
Churches are often places of rich beauty, but the purposes to which this beauty is tasked are not benign, not even neutral. The purposes are to enforce a hierarchy of earthly power, in which an elite hold most of the property, the offices of government, and the offices of religion, while the rest of us pray to an imaginary God, and believe that we will be rewarded for our daily sacrifices and submissions to authority, during a nonexistent afterlife.
After appreciating the beauty, I was tempted to burn it down. But, although plaques and statues outside of the church commemorate martyrs of the faith, I have zero desire to become a martyr against the faith.
I walked away, having decided, firmly, that Catholicism is not good, no matter how much beauty it deploys in its offense.
Beauty can also be evil.
Inside, the organist was playing a mighty pipe organ, perhaps just practicing ... and it sounded beautiful. The interior of the church was clean and breathtakingly pretty, mostly white, and well-lit by the winter morning sun. I took several pictures, and a video to capture the sound of the organ as I swept the camera lens across the stained glass windows.
This church is an official Chicago landmark, and from a purely artistic view, it deserves it.
But the purposes of this sort of beauty ... the purposes toward which this beauty pushes people ... toward the purpose of perpetuating patriarchy, the purpose of perpetuating homophobia. And in the past, Catholicism has pushed people toward anti-Semitism, toward war, toward slavery, and toward torture. The Catholicism we have today, as all should know, was stood up by a Roman Emperor during the 5th Century -- he wrote the Profession of Faith that Catholics still recite today, to push people toward a Church that united with a massively powerful State to keep an Emperor on his throne. There was no democracy, no social safety net, no written Constitution, no civil liberties. Only the promise of everlasting life, for those who would believe in it.
Churches are often places of rich beauty, but the purposes to which this beauty is tasked are not benign, not even neutral. The purposes are to enforce a hierarchy of earthly power, in which an elite hold most of the property, the offices of government, and the offices of religion, while the rest of us pray to an imaginary God, and believe that we will be rewarded for our daily sacrifices and submissions to authority, during a nonexistent afterlife.
After appreciating the beauty, I was tempted to burn it down. But, although plaques and statues outside of the church commemorate martyrs of the faith, I have zero desire to become a martyr against the faith.
I walked away, having decided, firmly, that Catholicism is not good, no matter how much beauty it deploys in its offense.
Beauty can also be evil.