Bricks & Mortar, Smoke & Mirrors
A Review of The Renovation Manipulation
(from the January/February 2000 issue)

BY DAVID LAWRENCE ALEXANDER

The Renovation Manipulation: The Church Counter-Renovation Manual
by Michael S. Rose
Aquinas Publishing Ltd., 2000
ISBN 0-9676371-0-4 $12.95 (+ $2.95 shipping & handling)
1-888-260-7371, P.O. Box 11260 Cincinnati Oh. 45211

"WE DEFINE OUR BUILDINGS, and eventually they define us," said Sir Winston Churchill. The house that we call home is more than Le Corbusier’s "machine for living," inasmuch as the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Sadly, in many areas of contemporary life, we forsake permanence for fashion. For nearly half a century, Catholics have endured the disfigurement of many of their churches, or the building of new ones that barely resemble a church as they would understand it. They are told by those carrying out this revolution that this is the consequence of liturgical reform—"the spirit of Vatican II," if you will. Yet an increasing number of the faithful have good reason to suspect they have been sold a false bill of goods.

Now, a new book by architect-turned-publisher Michael S. Rose does for sacred architecture what James Akin's Mass Confusion did for the sacred rites themselves. The Renovation Manipulation: The Church Counter-Renovation Handbook is a guide for those who discover that what began as a modest capital improvement program for their parish church has become a full-scale makeover.

Editor and publisher of St. Catherine Review, Rose, who has worked for commercial architects in New York, London, San Francisco, and Baltimore, has an extensive knowledge of the Faith. He has been reporting on church renovation projects in and around Cincinnati for nearly four years. In that time he has heard from concerned Catholics all over the country with similar accounts. Modest repairs or repainting are proposed, and parishioners respond generously to the appeal for funds for this purpose; they then learn that they have unwittingly underwritten a major renovation. The "liturgical design consultant" is hired to advise on matters of building form and function without even as much as an architectural or engineering degree. This "consultant" makes selective use of Church documents, including some of doubtful authority. He is not above ridiculing the pious practices of some of his audience to prove his point. Those who voice any objection, even long-time parishioners, find themselves isolated from this part of parish life. What emerges from the experience is a pattern, what Rose calls "a blueprint for the renovation process."

A practical handbook
The Renovation Manipulation is essentially divided into two parts. The first three chapters provide an historical overview leading to the present, and the current iconoclasm is set in the context of the crisis within the Church today. There is an examination of the role and techniques of the "liturgical design consultant." Part of his stock in trade is a consensus-building program known as the "Delphi Technique." Parishioners are manipulated through a shameless abuse of their faith in their leaders into acceptance of the renovation proposal. They are gulled into believing that they have had a role in the decision-making process, when in fact they have only been maneuvered into ratifying the predetermined outcome.

Where the first part of the book goes into theory, the second part goes into action. There is a collection of quotations from various church documents on sacred art and architecture, and a resource guide for those who want to know more. The highlight of Rose's work is Chapter 4, "Challenging the Liturgical Design Consultant" (LDC). It consists of a series of typical LDC pronouncements on the subject of church renovation (many of them verbatim quotations), followed by a learned, often witty, response. For example:

LDC's statement: St. Peter's Basilica in Rome allows for church-in-the-round seating. If it's good enough for the Pope then it ought to be good enough for you.

Response: The Basilica of St. Peter marks the tomb of a martyr, St. Peter, which is traditionally rendered architecturally in a Greek cross format or in a circular shape. A martyrium (as this type of building is called) is a different architectural type. There are many fine examples, especially in Italy, of this type of church building. However there is no need to apply this "type" to all church buildings....Contrary to popular belief, St. Peter's Basilica is not the Pope's Cathedral. The cathedral of His Holiness is the Basilica of St. John Lateran in Rome. Interestingly, it is of the traditional basilica arrangement. If it's good enough for the Pope then it's good enough for me!

For the battle-weary parishioner, Chapter 4 alone is worth the price of the book. Faithful Catholics may relax and enjoy the many things they wish they had said (and could yet have a chance to say) at an "open" parish meeting.

Fashion-driven demands
Rose states his case clearly, with erudition, and without effeteness. The typical pastor who doubts that matters could get out of hand in his parish, will find an abundance of anecdotal evidence to the contrary in the footnotes. The typical liturgical design consultant could learn how to enlighten the audience while respecting their intelligence and their faith.

Rose provides an excellent example of the complexity of liturgical law, especially in the matter of placement of the tabernacle. We also learn that the church renovator seems unsure about what "the Church says" from one year to the next. For example, in the 1970’s the "experts" told us the baptismal font should be up front, in the sanctuary. In the 1980’s we were told, often by the same "experts," that this was wrong, that the font should be in the rear, at the entrance of the church. Now, in the 1990’s, it should be not quite in the rear, more toward the middle. And it should contain some visible form of circulation, such as a fountain, to appear as "living water." In view of this recent history, one might suggest instead a set of wheels at the base, to accommodate the changing demands of our consultants. Of course, that makes any plumbing hookups rather difficult, but at least the water will be moving.

It reminds this writer of the words shared with him by a renowned liturgical artist with more than half a century of work to his credit: "Liturgy today is more fashion-driven than most people realize."

This writer found little with which to quarrel in this book, with one minor exception. Rose fails to make a convincing case against "in-the-round" seating, as opposed to the traditional longitudinal arrangement. This is no small matter, since even in those churches that are renovated with high regard for the sacred, a three-sided seating arrangement (usually the nave and two transepts) is a popular one. He challenges the assumption that close proximity to the altar is an aid to the "active participation" of the faithful in the liturgy, but fails to develop his position. He does remind us, however, that actuosa participatio, usually translated "active participation" denotes internal as well as external participation.

The reader who wants to explore this subject further may refer to an essay by Chicago priest Michael Enright listed in Rose's chapter on "References and Resources for Further Research":

It is often claimed that one disadvantage of a longitudinal church is a loss of personal contact. This is simply not true. Even at half a city block away ordinary people can see and distinguish one person from another. It is true, however, that the average person has [a cone of] vision of 60 degrees. Given a group of people spread out over 170 degrees (nearly a semicircle), almost two-thirds of these people would be out of the [cone of] vision of a preacher at the center.

Preaching in a small, round church means having your back to more than half of the people all of the time. They cannot be engaged, because there is no eye contact. Reduced to such watching, the congregation becomes passive, yet passivity is one of the reasons given for our modern liturgical changes. The standard complaint was that people had been reduced to watching the Mass. But a modern church encourages passivity in ways that traditional church design never did.

—"No Cheap Churches," Crisis, November, 1997

The tide is turning
With more parishioners demanding that their house of worship "look like a church," the tide is indeed turning. Even the American bishops themselves, in their most recent November meeting, called for the return to a centrally-located tabernacle (see article, page 18). They are listening to the tradition and teaching of their Mother, the Church, manifest in the voices of her sons and daughters. Perhaps those on their payrolls should take notice.

On the other hand, if the iconoclasts insist on using bricks and mortar as the vehicle of an ever-changing fashion statement, parishes in the future may consider inviting David Bowie as their next consultant. This British pop star is best known for his ability to successfully reinvent himself every other year or so. Like many liturgical design consultants, Bowie is not an architect either, but at least he will draw a paying crowd.

David Lawrence Alexander is a native of Milford, Ohio. He writes from Arlington, Va.

WEBSITE: The Renovation Manipulation

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