A history
Along with her tumultuous history, Jerusalem figures for the Christian and Jews a life after death. This vision of eternal paradise is reached through the city of the world to come. In the Bible, in the tenth century B.C., Solomon, son of David and King of Israel, had a temple built at Jerusalem which was the unique dwelling place of God, understood in the sense of the Old Covenant, as the Ark of Moses and the Tabernacle itself. This Ancient Covenant is to signal the reign of God’s Kingdom as well as the physical presence of Christ Himself. Isaiah’s vision of an ideal city spoke of a heavenly city, sometimes made in this earth. Ezekiel and other prophets likewise described the holy city of the Lord. Joshua dreamed of stones that stands for place from which he is destined to build. The coming of Christ and the New Covenant of the New Testament foreshadowed by the prophets of Old Testament understood Jerusalem not just as a holy city, but also the burial site of the Messiah. Saint John the Evangelist once again, when describing the wonderful stones and foundation of the city, illustrates Jerusalem as a bride of the Lord where Christ is her Groom, the very cornerstone, as though the flesh of Christ had arisen in Jerusalem to become the One Body which theologians thus speak of the Church founded by St. Peter. In this astounding theological convention, the Church (as the building from our understanding) and Jerusalem are like two entity of the same Bride, is also again compared by many art historians as the same architectural body and foundation.
However, that the Church and Jerusalem is the same is not yet quite understood and explained by theologians. Like St. Augustine, Saint Ambrose and Hilary of Poiters pointed to the gate of the Holy Land as the gate of heaven. The image of Jerusalem descending is taken symbolically to mean the establishment of the Catholic Church. Furthermore, this ideal Jerusalem was eternal and perhaps exist only in the spiritual realm. Crusaders and ascetics like St. Bernard found that this symbolic title is attained by the virtuous life and by the piety of fighting the holy wars for Jerusalem. There is in many instances, such as at Chartres, arguments as to what order the church was built in because this, too, according to art history Stephen Murray, was planned according to a divine arrangement that fits the most natural state of light and premise. (von Simson 1988, pg. 43)
The idea of Jerusalem inspired much architectural forms from the eight century on. (Prache 1993, pg. 12). These images were often taken from the Book of Revelation, Solomon’s Temple in the Book of Kings, and Ezekiel’s vision of the Temple. In liturgical chants performed at the consecration ceremony of a newly built church, the church was called the city of God and referred to as the heavenly city described in Revelation. The gold-leafing in late Antiquity mosaics, the procession of saints and angels in Byzantine sacred art, the celestial sphere decorating the cupolas with the Pantocrater Christ, all alluded to the image of Jerusalem in the Apocalypse. (Prache 1993, pg. 34). By the novelty of the lighter walls and translucent painted glass windows, there was a resurgence of interest in Jerusalem as God’s dwelling place from where He Himself designed the architecture of His Home and the universe. The legends of the saints at Chartres, for instance, all came to the display of a procession in Jerusalem, where they, invoking the ancient city, also pleads for the building of Chartres. The three portals figure the three doors from the city wall beside the gate of Jerusalem with their litany of confessors, martyrs, and church doctors, all of whom throughout the history of the church fathers have contemplated the significance of the new religion coming forth from Jerusalem. The royal door is the entrance to the Temple as the abbey of Moreaux of Vienne noted: “This entrance between the ox and the lion is like the entrance to the holy Temple of Solomon.” This was quoted by the verse: “And he (Solomon) set up the pillars at the porch of the temple; and he set up the right pillar and called the name thereof Jachin (stability); and he set up the left pillar and called the name thereof Boaz (force)” which is thus represented as the ox and the lion. (Prache 1993, pg. 33-34). The Royal Portal of Chartres, for one, is an extensive work of iconography between philosophers and artists. There, the kings and queens stood “like witnesses of the Old Covenant” (Prache 1993, pg. 36). The Chartres portal bears witnesses of the Revelation who participated in the end of time in an ordered assembly. As the Messiah is announced by the prophets, Christ descended to earth and fulfills the promise of the New Covenant which is the Church who is to reign with Christ in blessed Jerusalem. The sparkles and dazzling of stones of the rose windows shining into the chapel, the church building itself become like the walls of the precious stones in Jerusalem in the Apocalypse. On the three stained glass window of Chartres’ Royal Portal, Christ is portrayed throughout His life and in Jerusalem – who is represented on a medallion to the right of Christ of the Palms (entry in Jerusalem) (Prache 1993, pg. 44). As we shall see, at Chartres as at other cathedrals, theological programs of stained glass windows, sculptures, portals, tympanum, and statues, point to a theoretical idea of the way of faith through Jerusalem.
Abbot Suger began the “anagogical” idea of light as the physical manifestation of heavenly light which can supernaturally alight the soul to greater reflection of the hallowed faith. This supported the idea of making lighter walls made of glass windows and high vaulted columns which could reap the light from above. These are divine writings of the Gothic creation, made with stones of ancient jewels and earthly granites, which would shine among piliers cantonées (twisted pillars) higher up to formally structure, as with glasses, the light that break into the church through brilliant shine, a tier of upward reflection, as though to lift the sinner’s own reflection upwardly mobile, like a baptism by light (or fire).
The spires, high flying buttresses, and high rooves give the same impression as it does in a Medieval town, a city enclosed by towers and walls of a fortress. It is this characteristic of Gothic cathedrals that most evokes its striking resemblance to the description of Jerusalem. The procession of statues, the porches, and bell towers all remain to emphasize the enormous monument which is at the center of the town, but soars upward as though to pin at her very plateau the gate of heaven. Viewed in such light, it is very enticing to see how this is an imaginative interpretation of the ancient building type of Jerusalem, anchoring on earth, with her glorious souls shed on her foundation, an ideology that could only be estimated by the struggles of war and possession.
At Chartres, the theme of pilgrimage is often seen as part of the crusades. In her rose windows, we can see Charlemagne and Saint James of Compostela side by side the Our Lady chapel. One thus see the connection between Charlemagne, a crusader, and Saint James of Compostela, another famous pilgrimage center beside Jerusalem. The valiant Roland, son of Charlemagne, who sacrificed his life during the crusade, is shown carved along with Saint Stephen, the first martyr, and other ecclesiastical martyrs, which figures the idea of the heavenly Jerusalem reached by those who defend the Church. (Prache 1993, pg. 52).
The Synagogue which Christ had overturned as He gave up His Ghost is often shown in the veil of the Ancient Law. The synagogues in Jerusalem also figured another image, that is the body of Christ as He turned back the stone of His sepulcher where He was buried in Jerusalem. Thus, Christians are told to rejoice as Jerusalem, the window of the Passion, is also the very gate whenceforth Christ is entered in His resurrected body. This fact did not escape theologians who sometimes draw the root of Jesse as springing from a citadel city as that of Jerusalem. As such, one draws upon the mystical Bride as the Church through the flesh of Christ, in Jerusalem. Thus in images of Jerusalem, one also refers to the apotheosis of the Church by the end time which will happen when Jerusalem is rebuilt. Even in the story of the Good Samaritan, one can draw comparison of the victimized man as Jerusalem, who was left to die. The way to heaven, as the Church would have it often on tympanum, is often posed with many saints and elect, all coming toward the Holy Land of all pilgrimages. This also points out the fact that the cathedral is God’s place of rest and a worshipping place for His people. As such the theology of the Eucharist, as the center of the holy altars of the Church, is housed in an eternal tabernacle for which Jerusalem is built to house the Ark and the Tabernacle. This rather plain comparison, nonetheless, has taken interesting doctrines in theology, especially with the Western and Eastern Church, who disagree on the nature of the flesh of Christ. (Brush 1995, pg. 58)
That Jerusalem is an allegory is obvious. As a symbol, Jerusalem stands as the Gothic cathedrals stands, among intercessors, martyrs, confessors, angels, and saints: those who have always been admitted to this heavenly City to sit in worship of Christ. Thus, it was important to understand the “elements” that took course within the history of Jerusalem as well as the figural whole which Jerusalem stood to witness a body of lyricism and theology from the Psalms and doctors of the Church. What is most interesting is how Gothic art and architecture delineated this theophany, with procession of saints, with triad gates, with tall glass windows, with reverent numerology, and with towering spires as castles in the air, and crypts made of labyrinth and fortresses, with relics of the Holy Land, with emblems of the crusaders, with shades of Paradise, as picture book, communities of faith, and stories of the Biblical faith. All of this didn’t add up to just an artistic expression. They thus take up the properties so inspired as we might aptly ascribe it, by the legendary city, all interconnected to transform the Romanesque into a tradition of ecclesiastical appeal in church building to match with the very history they try to convey. It was interesting to understand how art is such a fascinating creation of the ideas one could not convey by mere analysis of history.
“And I John saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband…And he carried me away in the spirit to a great and high mountain: and shewed me that great city, the holy Jerusalem descending out of heaven from God.
Having the glory of God, and her light was like unto a stone most precious, even like a jasper stone, clear as crystal. And it had a wall great and high, and had twelve gates.”
At the cathedrals of Salisbury and Wells, the image of the heavenly city is well set aside from the town’s surrounding urban area. Compared to English Gothic cathedrals, French and German cathedrals integrated the “heavenly city” among the lay’s earthly dwelling place. Wells cathedral has uniquely a different west front than that of the French Gothic churches, nonetheless, still embodies the “many mansions” of the Heavenly Jerusalem housing 297 life-size sculptures on this front (originally 384) that represented, in the meaning of the Medieval Age, the Last Judgment’s intercessors. The life of the liturgy often becomes the symbolic functions of these churches with prayers and chantry (Meyer 2003, 131). Enthroned statues were placed in order of patrons and saints forming these buttresses as the ecclesiasts maneuver on Palm Sunday the dramatic entrance of Christ into Jerusalem. Heavenly choirs of angels sing as voices construct by the acoustic of the church resounds in the performance. (Camille 1996, pg. 31). In a similar line, St. Denis was built to incorporate for pilgrims and to allow the church a fulsome experience of the mass during veneration in the chapels. According to Michael Camille, “Many of the great churches are, in a sense, such image-tabernacles writ large.” (Camille 1996, pg. 34) The cathedral itself was an icon and thus is treated with the same program to represent the world of theology within and beyond the building, as the body and the subject of veneration.
At a time when building a Medieval church was the equivalent of working on the divined plans that require a mystical exertion of resource and illumination, the churches in France became the center of a town as that Jerusalem was the center of the land flowing with milk and honey, as that of the heaven. The building of Chartres, for instance, conferred the graces given by the very entity of the church, its relics of Mary’s tunic. The spiritual process was just as important as the final result, comparable to the building of Noah’s Ark. The mental and moral disposition of such project encompass many different light of theology, for instance, Hellenic Dionysian metaphysics of light and harmony, which must add up to explain the face of reason in an age full of dedication to mysticism. This Corpus areopagiticum as explicated by Johannes Scotus Erigena became a theological and mystical framework of light in the abbey. The translucent panels of the porta caeli was yet another version of the cosmo that embody divine luminescence. Glass windows were only the tradition in France at the time of St. Denis. They were not popular elsewhere until they were put into full light in the first Gothic church becoming a novelty in its display. It was, as Abbot Suger put it, a communion with angels. The bishopric of France was controlled by the kings, particularly that of the Capetian monarchy, who was often the Pope’s assistance in the duel with Germany. The division between imperium and sacerdotium spurred many political conflicts in France and Germany which formed an alliance of royal bishoprics. Abbot Suger had a keen eye for historical figures. He did not produce any theological works, but read extensively and was always interested in architecture. The great rallies for the kings, and ultimately, the alliance of church and state occurred at St. Denis. Personal gifts to St. Denis appear as dedicated to the patron saint who christianized France. The same St. Denis, as legend would have it, witnessed the eclipse of Christ’s passion. These visions formed the basis of the theology of light which would invent itself into the history of art (von Simson 1988, pg. 103). Attempts to separate the two authorities were considered treason. (von Simson 1988, pg. 107). Feasts played an important role to the public life of St. Denis. The Lendit feast was made for venerating the saint and his comrades. St. Denis rivaled Notre Dame de Paris in relics as it, too, grabbed hold of power from the Parisian bishops. Christian crusaders were considered making great pilgrimages protecting sites such as the Holy Land. They are memorialized along the roads to pilgrimage sites serving as patriotic and religious convention projecting an important role of Jerusalem. Charlemagne is said to have recovered relics from Jerusalem in 1096 and brought them to Aachen to be presented by Charles the Bald. The Pseudo-Turbin pronounced for France the imperial proclamation of the Abbey of St. Denis. From St. Denis, Charlemagne departs for the Holy Land and returns to proclaim sovereignty to St. Denis, thus St. Denis had a fair share of imperial proclamation. “And during the years of his regency, Suger was infact, if not in name, primate of France.” (von Simson 1988, pg. 87). He called his choir the city of great Kings to allude to the cornerstone which link his church to the worthy temple of Christ. Some have deposited precious gems into the walls of the church while chanting, “Lapides preciosi omnes muri tui” referring to the walls of Jerusalem.
In these cathedrals, music such as the Gregorian chant also arose from Notre de Paris. Leoninus and Perotinus interweave intricate melodies to cover the ecclesiastical ensemble. (Winston 1971, pg. 36). At Notre Dame de Paris, Maurice de Sully had the papal legate at the consecration of the altar. Three years later, he had Heraclius, Patriarch of Jerusalem, come to plead for the Holy Land. To crusaders, the patriarch was only secondary to the Pope. Heraclius wanted King Philip Augustus to aid in repelling the force of the Muslims, the Saracens. Philip Augustus evaded the request. Heraclius then pleaded to the English King, Henry II. He, too, offered little help. In 1087, the Saracens captured Jerusalem. England and France then pitched together to repel the invaders while Philip Augustus had connived with Richard Coeur de Lion to attack the English king. Henry II died, leaving the power to Richard and Philip Augustus. Richard managed to repel Saladin’s Saracens army. However, he did not regain Jerusalem. He was able to allow visits to Christian pilgrims under new terms. (Winston 1971, pg. 39). These events slowed work of building churches in Europe. Bishop Maurice de Sully had mostly served Philip Augustus and thus was overridden with politics abroad. While Philip Augustus was taking the opportunity to control more English land, Frenchmen in the street of Constantinople gathered up booties: “gold and silver, and vessels and precious stones, and samite, and cloth of silk, and robes of vair and gray, and ermine, and every choicest things found upon the earth.” (Winston 1971, pg. 44). These men were setting out to capture Jerusalem. They did not but instead captured Constantinople. Some patriarchs of the Crusade married Byzantine princesses. When Hugh de Payns and his nine Templar knights emerged from military orders, they bring with them influences from the Saracens (Muslim), and other Eastern contacts in the Holy Land, causing historians to remark on Islamic architects, such as that for the design of “Castle Pilgrim”, contributing to the natural structure of the pilgrimage of the Gothic cathedrals. There were a number of relics and other religious objects from the vibrant trade with the East, brought back by returning crusaders, pilgrims, kings, merchants, and others. The medieval Knights Templars in Europe assisted pilgrims by sea to the Holy Land, along with goods and supplies. Many pilgrims bought incense, spices, precious cloths and sell them back home.
The Seventh Crusade attempted to conquer Egypt, which was key to the Holy Land. Plague and heat overtook the crusaders and King Louis IX was captured. Even threatened with torture, he did not relinquish. (Winston 1971, pg. 51). Louis who died on a crusade, wanted to make Paris his Holy Land. Distressed by the crusades, Rutebeuf condemned these ventures: “I can worship God just as well in Paris as in Jerusalem.” Thus, the idea behind the cathedral was that pilgrimages and relics would be transpired everywhere beside Jerusalem. At this point, cathedrals were places of learning, beacons of hope, and community symbol of power. Synods were held in Paris and the assembly of prelates drew up pressing articles of the faith that spread throughout Europe. Paris became, as one historian described, “the second capital of Christendom.” (Winston 1971, pg. 56). Each bells of Notre Dame de Paris had its special name and characteristic. Viollet-le-Duc later repaired the structure from the ground up in 1864. It was only then that the building of churches eventually was managed by deputies and not in the hands of kings. The formal rites of the church remain patriotic throughout the many changes of political control. Their ceremonies became more and more universal and genuine in participation. (Winston 1971, pg. 92).
Notre Dame de Paris was memorialized in Victor Hugo’s Hunchback of Notre Dame. The High Gothic style is emphatically “upward” allowing lots of light to enter and with soaring vaults, the very roots of the building in the crypt appear as houses of light. (Ralls 2015, loc. 160). Cathedrals were occasionally sights of business. For instance, the mayor of Strasbourg had his office at the pews and at Chartres, wine merchants worked at the nave. The most important festivities such as Christmas, Yuletide, Twelfth Night, Epiphany, and certain saint’s day incorporated local customs and drama. The shimmering effect of the Gothic cathedrals made everyone aware of the presence of a superior being. (Ralls 2015, loc. 1250). Labyrinths were also a symbolic path to Jerusalem. Pilgrims could connect the spiritual with the many twists and turns that made the final destination such enigma. (Ralls 2015, loc. 1778) It was also considered the Labyrinth of Solomon as the winding path to reach the center becomes a geographical conundrum that is Jerusalem. It was even viewed as an alchemical encounter with God’s work. Medieval parishioners can sense that mystical union that is with God and spirit. They are also instruments of art and dance, to foment the sense of geometry, art, music, dance, and spirituality as is the tradition with ecstatic visions of the sublime. The labyrinth in the floor of the nave at Chartres is made of white stone, 40 feet in diameter and composed of seven concentric rings that trace out a path of 858 feet long. A major inspiration for stone carvings came from various visions of the one most persistent rock of Jerusalem. A badge of pilgrimage is the palm of Jericho from Jerusalem. These stones are like a picture book full of glass. (Ralls 2015, loc. 1889).
For Abbot Suger, divine light seemed to be a quality not just of brilliance but also collective since in the gems, bodies of light fluster that made them apt for meditation of divinity’s light. Christian Neo-Platonic Pseudo-Dionysius explained in his Celestial Hierarchy that each object and creature received and transmitted divine illumination according to their rank and worth. They distinguished “lux” as the quality of light and “lumen” as the flow of “lux”. They celebrated light as the expression of God’s creation and creative nature. Suger wrote: “To those who know the properties of precious stones, it becomes evident, to their utter astonishment, that none is absent from the number of these, but that they abound most copiously. Thus, when out of my delight in the beauty of the house of God – the loveliness of the many-coloured gems has called me away from external cares, and worthy meditation has induced me to reflect, transferring that which in material to that which is immaterial, on the diversity of the sacred virtues. Then it seems to me that I see myself dwelling as it were, in some strange region of the universe which neither exists entirely in the slime of the earth nor entirely in the purity of Heaven; and that, by the grace of God, I can be transported from this inferior to that higher world in an anagogical manner.” The Abbot was taking extreme literal sense of the power of light that is embedded in the stones and gems of Jerusalem. (Ralls 2015, loc. 2130).
As theological experts confirm, the shape of the New Jerusalem as described in the New Testament is a perfect cube. St. John says in the Book of Revelation: “The city lies foursquare…its length and breadth and height are equal”. Scholars wondered where this geometrical concept came from and explained it with the possible philosophy of Pythagoras. The medieval representation of the celestial Jerusalem accorded with its literature just as in art. Poems such as “Pearl” reserves a third of its length to the description of New Jerusalem in the Latin Kingdom. (Meyer 2003, pg. 159). We hear such quotations like: “The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their splendor into it. On no day will its gates ever be shut, for there will be no night there. The glory and honor of the nations will be brought into it.” Such formula, like 12,000 stadia in length, breadth, and width with walls made of jasper that are 144 cubits thick, and made of pure gold and glass challenge the architects of the medieval age to create proportionate dimensions. These dimensions had holy significance. “Thou hast ordered all things in measure and number and weight.” The Temple that King Solomon built for the Lord was sixty cubits long, twenty wide, and thirty high. The portico at the front of the main hall of the temple extended the width of the temple, that is, twenty cubits and another projected ten. The first floor was five cubits wide, the middle floor six cubits, and the third floor seven. “And he built the side rooms along all the temple. The height of each was five cubits. He partitioned off twenty cubits at the rear of the temple with cedar boards from floor to ceiling to form within the temple an inner sanctuary, the Most Holy Place. The main hall in front of this room was forty cubits long.”