Although come to think of it, this window depicting Christ resurrecting Lazarus is also quite beautiful, Timothy thought. This window had Christ standing before a tomb, hands raised, Lazarus stepping out from the tomb while a few people nearby looked on in shock. What made the window interesting to Timothy was that Lazarus was portrayed as completely colorless, almost black and white in appearance. Timothy thought back to chapter eleven of the Gospel of John, in which Christ raises Lazarus of Bethany from the dead. Timothy had always liked that chapter because it contained the famous verse 35, “Jesus Wept,” the shortest verse in the King James Version of the Bible (and the name of one of Timothy’s favorite Current 93 songs, for that matter). It was a short but simple verse, yet a powerful one. Some theologians argued that by weeping, Christ is revealed to be a true human being made of flesh and blood, with actual bodily functions and secretions, and that he was therefore not a spirit or an illusion (contrary to what the heretical Docetists argued). And St. Fulgentius of Ruspe claimed that ‘Jesus did not weep, as the Jews thought, because his friend was dead; rather He wept because He was going to call back to the misery of life one that He loved.” As J.K. Huysmans wrote about life in his 1903 novel The Oblate of St. Benedict, “The fact is, once is enough, quite enough.”
It fascinates me how, when seen from outside, stained glass windows look so boring and colorless, and can only truly be appreciated when one is gazing at them from within the church itself, Timothy mused. He thought of another Huysmans’ novel, The Cathedral, published back in 1897. In that book, Huysmans puts forth the notion that this is symbolical of the soul having light inwardly, an allegory of the spiritual life, which requires one to turn away from the material world and focus all one’s contemplation on the soul. In any event, these stained glass windows are quite lovely. And Timothy admired the way the colorful sunlight streamed through the glass, making it look as if the stained glass windows were weeping rainbows into the church’s nave.
As Timothy walked down the central aisle, surrounded by the finely carved wooden pews on both sides, he gazed up at the nave’s ceiling. The ceiling above the central aisle was decorated with five very large frescoes illustrating the ministry of Jesus in the Gospels. Beginning near the central dome and moving down to the choir loft above the main entrance, one could see Jesus getting baptized by John the Baptist, Christ’s transfiguration on the mountain, the Feeding of the 5,000, Christ’s agony in the Garden of Gethsemane, and the Descent of the Holy Spirit on the Day of Pentecost. In the ceiling vaults immediately below these New Testament paintings, Prof. Mancini had painted a number of Minor and Major Prophets of the Old Testament: from far below, Timothy spotted Isaiah, Jeremiah, Zechariah, Micah, Hosea, Obadiah, Joel, Malachi, Daniel, and Ezekiel. Timothy overheard Henri comment that it almost seemed as if the Prophets were standing as an honor guard for the coming of the Messiah.
Timothy moved on to St. Durtal’s crossing, which was the place in the church where the nave and transepts intersected (the transepts forming the arms of the cross shape). Timothy veered left until he stood in the north transept, on the rectory side of the church. The arch-shaped wall of this transept was dominated by an enormous stained glass window (also arch shaped) of the Crucifixion of Christ, while the arch on the ceiling overhead illustrated the archangel Michelangelo casting the rebel angels out of Heaven, and below this painting was another one entitled “The Portals of Hell,” where one could see the fallen angels surrounded by flames. What made this painting impressive to Timothy was that some of the rebel angels were painted so that it seemed as if they were falling out of the frame of the above painting, into the pit of hell below.
Timothy returned his gaze to the large Crucifixion window. This window, which, like the church’s other 48 stained glass windows, had been commissioned by the artist Louis LeClair in Chartres, had a most intriguing 3D effect: in the foreground was the crucified Christ and the crowd, behind the crowd was a hill with trees, beyond that was a walled city (probably Jerusalem), then mountains and the sky. All of these gradually receding layers gave the window an illusion of depth, making one believe that one could almost actually step into the landscape of the window itself.
Frescoes flanked the left, right, and bottom sides of this window. To the left of the window was a painting of a scene from chapter ten of the Book of Joshua, in which Joshua commands his soldiers to place their feet on the necks of the five defeated kings of Makkedah (a scene which always gave Timothy a bit of an erection, oddly enough: he had always found the humiliation and subsequent murder of the disgraced kings at the hands of Joshua to be sexually exciting). Below that was a smaller fresco portraying a cherubim, here depicted as an androgynous angel surrounded by wings made of flames, a peaceful expression on its sexless face. To the right of the big window was a painting of Jacob the Father wrestling with an angel, and, below that, a smaller portrait of St. Peter. Below the window was a long horizontal fresco depicting God Himself, identified here simply as “Creator.” Beneath this painting were confessional booths which had been converted into offices used by the SDACC staff. On the floor next to the confessionals was a seal, displaying the Keys of St. Peter, marked with odd red stains that looked like dried blood.
Timothy moved closer to the large window to study the frescoes in greater detail. He began by looking at the painting of God. It portrayed a robed man with long gray hair and a beard floating through a cloudy and formless void, a serene expression on His face, and it bore a great resemblance to God as He was depicted by Michelangelo on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. The God in the fresco before Timothy seemed to exude patriarchal authority and a somewhat stern benevolence. Timothy looked at the fresco of St. Peter (identified here as “Petrus”). St. Peter was depicted as an older bearded man, his wise eyes gazing to the heavens. In his left hand he held two large golden keys, while his right hand was making the gesture of benediction. St. Peter seemed to be gazing at the fresco immediately above him, which was that of Jacob wrestling an angel. Like Christ, the saint also had a halo surrounding his head.
Here, Timothy paused for a moment to consider the symbolism of the arch: not only were the transept walls (and the large stained glass windows they contained) shaped like arches, but the same went for all of the other stained glass windows of the church. He knew that there were 24 occurrences of the word “arch” in the Bible, many of which could be found in the Book of Genesis, such as the arch that God builds over the Earth, an arch to which he gives the name of Heaven. And then of course there was the rainbow, an arch-shaped phenomenon of nature that symbolized God’s covenant with Noah and his sons. And one also couldn’t forget the Arch of Constantine in Rome, erected in the year 315 AD, a monument that celebrated Constantine’s victory over Maxentius at the Battle of Milvian Bridge in 312 AD, the battle in which Constantine had the vision that inspired him to convert to Christianity and declare the religion to be tolerated within the Roman Empire, ending years of prosecution.
Timothy turned away from this large window and began heading toward the center of the church. He passed by one of the transept side doors (above which was a fresco portraying God’s covenant with Noah), and also a side altar dedicated to St. Mary, the Virgin Mother and Queen of Martyrs. This altar consisted of an alcove, inside of which was a beautiful white marble statue depicting the mother of Christ, and before this statue were a number of unlit candles. By this point Timothy was starting to get sick of the boy choir music, so he took out his iPod, slipped on his earphones, began playing the song “Big Church (Megszentségteleníthetetlenségeskedéseitekért)” by Sunn O))). Back at the crossing again, Timothy turned to face the sanctuary (also known as the chancel), which was walled off from the crossing by an eighty foot long communion rail made of marble. The sanctuary was located north of the nave, in a domed and semicircular polygonal termination known as the apse, and it was here that one could find the altar.
Timothy thought back to what he had read concerning this particular church’s sanctua
ry. He knew that it was 53 feet deep and 40 feet wide, with enough space to seat over 20 priests and 100 altar boys. There were two doors located on each side of the sanctuary, the one on the left leading to the priest’s sacristy (also known as the vestry: this was where the church’s sacred vestments and liturgical vessels were stored), while the door on the right led to a small storage room. Timothy looked at the pulpit, located on the side of the sanctuary that was closest to the north transept. A 1966 addition to the church, it was 10 feet tall and shaped in the form of a chalice, with a spiral staircase leading one to the top of it. The pulpit was sculpted in bas-relief and divided into six panels, each panel displaying a different figure: St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Augustine of Hippo, St. Bernard, St. Ambrose, St. John Chrysostom, and, in the center of these figures, a generic angel.
Timothy looked at the main altar, which had also been designed by Prof. Mancini (though it had been sculpted by the House of Del Bono in Florence, Italy). The altar was done in a Renaissance design so it would fit in with the style of the rest of the church, its steps and table being made of white Carrara marble. The altar table was a large marble piece, set in six sculpted columns with a background of mauve-paneled marble, while the cornice, the tabernacle and the dome were made of pink coral marble. Three carved white candlesticks were located at each side of the altar. The altar screen, meanwhile, was constructed of large white marble columns with six mosaic green and red panels, and interwoven in these panels were various inscriptions of the early Christian church, along with some Eucharistic symbols. A white statue of an angel stood on a Corinthian column (which was also made of pink coral marble) on each end of the altar screen. Behind the altar was a large altarpiece, a three-decker wooden screen honeycombed with pointy niches, and within each niche there were wooden statues depicting various saints. Timothy next looked at the upper walls of the sanctuary, which were adorned with a number of stained glass windows depicting events from the life of St. Durtal. Timothy was especially impressed by the centermost window, which showed the saint seated on a stool in front of a canvas that was perched on an easel, a canvas on which he was painting one of his celebrated panoramas of Hell. In this window, the saint was in the process of adding demons to the scene, and posing on a chair to the side of the easel was a small black demon, bird-like in appearance, with two curved horns, a forked tail, bat wings and a reptilian body. Its face was like that of a vulture, similar to the ones that the English occultist and artist Austin Osman Spare had drawn in his books to represent his concept of ‘Kia.’
Timothy decided to go explore the south transept next. He continued walking down the length of the crossing, passing by another side altar, this one dedicated to St. Joseph (set up next to this altar was the life-sized figure of Jesus on the Cross that the local Redemptorist Fathers had donated to the church in 1928). Soon he was at the south, or “Locust Street” side, transept, which in many ways was laid out exactly like the north transept, in that it featured another enormous arch-shaped stained glass window, this one displaying Christ’s Resurrection (it also had a curious 3D effect). Also like the other large transept window, it was flanked by two frescoes on the left, two on the right, and one beneath it. The frescoes on the left depicted Abel’s sacrifice and, beneath that, the sacrifice of Melchizedek, while the ones on the right portrayed the sacrifice of Cain and, below that, the sacrifice of Aaron. The fresco beneath the large Resurrection window depicted Jonah coming out of the mouth of the whale, which was also symbolic of the Resurrection. Over the south transept side door was a painting of another Old Testament covenant, this one being the Ark of the Covenant. A table had been set up by the SDACC near this door, and on this table were free Bibles that anyone could take, along with copies of the newspaper known as The Rhode Island Catholic. Timothy took a moment to admire the fresco depicting Jonah, which was also meant to symbolize the beauty of Man. In this fresco (beneath which was another set of confessionals, also converted into offices) Jonah was seated on a rock in the foreground, scantily clad in a sheet wrapped around his waist, his upper body totally unclad, a body that was muscular and extremely masculine, his face attractive and clean shaven. Behind him was the ocean and a most unusual looking whale. Man, look at those muscles on Jonah, Timothy thought in admiration as he gazed at Jonah’s buff physique. Dude’s built like a werewolf from the Twilight films. I can’t blame the whale for swallowing him. I wouldn’t mind doing the same thing with his semen.
To Timothy’s embarrassment, he could feel another erection forming in his tight leather pants, so he wrenched his eyes upwards. The south transept’s ceiling arch was decorated with two frescoes, just like the north transept. The larger of the two frescoes was simply entitled “The Original Sin” and it showed Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, being tempted by the Serpent to eat the forbidden apples from the Tree of Knowledge. Adam had his back turned to the viewer, his muscular arms raised before his unseen face as if to ward off the evil of the Serpent (which was of a curious white-pink color), while Eve sat on a branch of the tree, her hand reaching out for an apple on the branch above her. Both Adam and Eve were nude, and though one could see Eve’s small round breasts, a few twigs on a branch blocked her vagina from sight. Likewise, Adam’s round and shapely buttocks were slightly obscured from view by another strategically placed branch. Beneath this fresco was a smaller painting, displaying a stern-faced female angel with a flaming sword expelling Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden. By this point in time, Henri stood next to Timothy with a few of the other visitors, and he was explaining how parishioners back in the day had objected to Adam and Eve’s nudity. To appease the philistines, Prof. Mancini had added a few strategically placed leaves to the fresco. However, he had supposedly flown into a rage when the church’s pastor at the time had requested that further leaves be added to hide their nudity: in response, Prof. Mancini had dismantled the scaffolding and stated that if the parishioners of St. Durtal’s wished to add more clothing to Adam and Eve, they would have to scale the walls of the church and paint it themselves. Henri also told the visitors how, at Sunday Mass, students of the nearby St. Durtal’s Catholic School were forbidden to gaze up at the ceiling of the south transept, and those caught doing so by the watchful nuns were punished in class on Monday morning. To the amusement of the visitors, Henri mentioned how mischievous boys and girls would smuggle in little pieces of glass or tiny mirrors which they would then use to secretly admire the “naughty” artwork. Timothy couldn’t say he blamed them: after all, Adam’s ass was pretty mouthwatering, and he could feel yet another erection starting up.
This is getting embarrassing, Timothy thought with a grin as he made his way back to the center of the crossing. He looked down the central aisle of the nave, all the way down to the three doors that led back out to the narthex. He noticed that there were two large medallions painted over the doors on the far left and far right. The one on the far left showed Christ floating over a battlefield of dead soldiers, with the phrase “Vivit et regnat in saecula saecvlorum” written above it, while the one above the far right door portrayed the Virgin Mary hovering above a war-torn ocean, while drowning soldiers reached out to her, and above this medallion was another Latin phrase, “In periculis Mariam invoca.” Well, Prof. Mancini did paint this church in the midst of World War II, Timothy thought. These medallions are obviously meant to commemorate the parishioners of St. Durtal’s Church who fought and died in that battle. Built above the main entrance of the church, at the foot of the cross shape, was the choir loft, where the pipe organ was held. The choir loft was decorated with frescoes depicting men and women associated with music, such as St. Cecilia (the patroness of church music, here depicted as a beautiful woman with strikingly red hair), Pope Gregory the Great (who was credited with the invention of Gregorian Chant), and King David, who was the composer of the Psalms.
Looking down the length of the nave, Timothy found himself idly reflecting on the religious symbolism of churches. The nave, for example, was symbolic of
the Barque of St. Peter and also Noah’s Ark, outside of which no one is saved: Extra Ecclesiam nulla salus, “outside the church there is no salvation.” This made sense, given that the word “nave” is derived from navis, which was the Latin word for “ship.” The roof of the church symbolized charity, covering as it did a multitude of sins, while the floor represented the foundation of faith and the humility of the poor. The church’s columns symbolized the Apostles, bishops and doctors of the Catholic Church, while the vaulting represented preachers, who must bear the weight of man’s infirmities to the heavens, and the beams represented those champions of ecclesiastical might who defended their faith with a sword. Furthermore, the towers and belfries also symbolized preachers and prelates, while the four walls of the church represented the Four Evangelists (whose symbols were a winged man, a winged lion, a winged bull, and a winged eagle). Following the tradition of Christian churches, St. Durtal’s was built to face the east (hence why the north transept, located on the church’s west side, was considered to be the north), because the east was symbolic of Heavenly Jerusalem while the west represented death and evil.
Autopsy of an Eldritch City: Ten Tales of Strange and Unproductive Thinking Page 20
