The Pagan Origins of the Church Steeple (New Motivational Poster)
This is a brief history emphasizing its phallic origins:
These structures long preceded Christianity, dating back to fertility ceremonies of ancient pagan religions. Pagan priests used an upright stone, pillar, obelisk, or slender tower to represent the male sex organ. Even today, a stylized union of male and female genitals is found in many cultures.
Notice: “As to the lingam…representing the male organ, in some form or other–as upright stone or pillar or obelisk or slender round tower–it occurs all over the, world, notably in Ireland, and forms such a memorial of the adoration paid by early folk to the great emblem and instrument of human fertility, as cannot be mistaken…Above all, no doubt, there were images of the phallus and the vulva, the great symbols of human fertility” (from the website digital.library).
The Encyclopedia Britannica states this of the spire: “[it is] a symbol of the heavenly aspirations of pious medieval men” (1979). The earliest of man’s “heavenly aspirations” is recorded in Genesis 11:4: “And they said, Go to, let us build a city and a tower, whose top may reach unto heaven…” Speaking of the steeples, spires and other forms of idolatrous high places, God expressed to Israel His contempt for such structures in Leviticus 26:30: “And I will destroy your high places, and cut down your images, and cast your carcasses upon the carcasses of your idols, and my soul shall abhor you.” (Source)
Here is a more thorough examination of the history of the steeple, but with an emphasis on when it came into church building architecture (There is more research available online and in libraries to support that the steeple/obelisk has pagan origins. All you have to do is search for yourself. The history of this and other church practices can be found in the book Pagan Christianity? ):
Steeples as we know them were largely an innovation of the English, inspired by Gothic spires of Germany and France, but popularized through the dominance of Sir Christopher Wren’s building authority in London following the Great Fire of 1666. The steeple is the only surviving external architectural trait, which the earliest American settlers would allow to remain in the design of American church buildings.
The practice of building “pointed tops” on buildings traces as far back as architecture itself. Ever since the inhabitants of Babel erected a tower, which was to “reach to the heavens,” civilizations have followed suit and built structures, which point upward. Ancient cultures seem to have shared the conviction that “God and heaven are up,” and that the buildings they built should make a physical reference to this fact. Following the example of the earliest Babylonians, the Egyptians built obelisks and pyramids which suggested belief in their own progress toward immortality.[1] These vertically ambitious structures often housed the tombs of great ancient leaders who had the edifices erected in hopes that they would one day rise again, victorious over death. Only with the advent of Greek philosophy and culture did the direction of architecture change from upward to downward and outward. Greco-Roman architecture brought a pause to the ancient trend as this new, more humanistic civilization taught principles of democracy and equality.[2] Even their gods mostly lived on earth like men, so that the upward aspiration ceased to express itself in the buildings they made. Broad columns set on broad foundations symbolized their philosophy that the leadership of society should not come down from one heavenly source, but should rise up from within society as a whole.
It was not until the rise of the Roman Catholic Church that religious philosophies would once again blend in the right mixture to produce “pointy tops” to crown buildings of worship.[3] Neoplatonic philosophy and aesthetics dictated the need for architecture which inspired a sense of awe and worship. Religious architecture had always followed the lead of secular culture, as illustrated by Constantine’s basilicas, which were built to imitate the courthouses of his day. But toward the end of the Byzantine period of architecture, the Popes which followed seemed to draw inspiration from the obelisks of ancient Egypt.[4] As religious architecture began to enter the Romanesque period, points began to appear on the surfaces and corners of every cathedral built in the Holy Roman Empire. This trend would reach its pinnacle in the days of Gothic architecture epitomized by Abbot Suger’s construction of Saint Denis (around 1130-1140, see image 5). Perhaps drawing inspiration from the grandiose statues and towers of ancient Egypt, Gothic architecture sought to express divine direction through exaggerated heights and imposing solidity with the building materials selected. At this time cathedrals typically displayed 100 or more points of different types, some crowned with crosses, others simply sticking upward with bare stone or iron.
Alongside this development, feudal society had grown to revolve around religion such that the cathedrals and abbeys had begun to function as the hub of towns and villages everywhere in Europe. It became customary in Italy to build towers by the entrance of the churches which would house bells for calling the local inhabitants to worship.[5] These bell towers, named “campaniles,”[6] served the further purposes of chiming the hours throughout the week and of warning citizens of coming danger. In the colder climates of Northern Europe, builders attached the bell towers to the west entrance of the churches, perhaps for convenience. These came to be called “west work” (German: westwerk) towers and had two towers on either side for decorative purposes (see images 7 and 8). As with everything else during the Romanesque and Gothic periods, these grew to be more elaborate as time went on, showcasing a proliferation of points and crosses on every surface. During this time period, the most imposing spires would appear atop these west work towers and also at the crown of “cupolas,” which were originally domed openings at the center of cruciform (cross-shaped) cathedrals. While some of these cupolas housed bells, others merely served to provide a decorative opening in the middle of the cathedral for skylight and ventilation. These two spire locations together constitute the European origin of the modern “steeple.”
Shortly before Gothic architecture began to give way to the neo-classicalism of the Renaissance, the shape and prominence of the spire began to change at the hands of the architects of northern Europe and England. Rather than building twin towers on the western entrance as before, Michael Parler uniquely designed a single massive spire for the cathedral at Strasbourg in 1385.[7] Subsequent designs were favored over Parler’s original conception, but the singularity of the spire remained in the final building of the cathedral (see image 9). A handful of cathedrals built later, like those at Vienna and Ulm, drew inspiration from Strasbourg’s innovation (see images 10 and 11). But while the French built their spires and towers low, thick, and centrally located on cathedral roofs, English architects exerted their national individuality by dropping the cupola-type spire and focusing on the tower at the west entrance of their church buildings, building them taller and thinner.[8] The size, shape, and decor of these spires varied largely according to what materials were available to the builders of each region. Consequently, the most developed versions appeared in Somersetshire and north Northamptonshire (see images 12 and 13), where good limestone was available.[9] The steeples of England, while by no means uniformly used throughout the country, were a common occurrence during the 1400′s. These towers usually housed bells and functioned in much the same way as the west work towers of Germany and France, and the campaniles of northern Italy.
Before 1666, towers of each architectural period filled the skyline of London, marking its gradual development and multifaceted history. But in 1666 a terrible fire swept across the entire city, damaging or destroying 86 of its 106 churches.[10] Charles II then commissioned Sir Christopher Wren (1632-1723), a renowned astronomer, anatomist, and architect, to oversee the redesigning of the churches of London (see short biography below). This very expensive reconstruction period resulted in a much more homogeneous style of architecture for what was already one of the most culturally influential cities in the world.[11] Most of Wren’s buildings brandished monumental steeples of elaborate construction (see image 14, St. Mary Le Bow, his first to design, and image 15, St. Clement Danes). Taking a little influence from the Gothic spires of France and Germany, Wren boldly established the dominance of the steeple in the architecture of London in what appears to be the development of his own stylistic innovation. Concerning Wren’s development of the steeple, Furst writes:
This is a work of art evolved from an imagination which clearly worked empirically and individualistically– we might even say, esoterically– and which owed nothing to historical precedents.[12]
While Wren had help from other designers, most notably Robert Hooke,[13] his oversight gave direction to the architecture of London for decades to come. In 1680, Wren completed the steeple of the church of St. Mary-Le-Bow, the first great steeple of his many reconstructions. Citizens of London were so impressed with its size and beauty that it soon became the model for most of the churches to follow.[14] Unlike the elaborate churches of the continent, the London churches were squeezed between city buildings, often sharing walls with them. Therefore the steeples became the sole opportunity for embellishment and architectural display above otherwise plain buildings.[15] From this point on, the steeple becomes a bulwark of Anglo-Saxon architecture par excellence.
As both Congregationalists and puritans migrated across the Atlantic, the influence of Reformed theology remolded and reshaped the vocabulary and culture of all who came. The early puritans did not call their religious buildings “churches,” rather they called them “meeting houses” to reflect their conviction that the people of God are the only true dwelling place of God.[16] The early settlers of the States were vigorous in their reformation of religious concepts that had their roots in Catholic theology. Consequently, the architecture of the New World dropped most of the extravagance of European church architecture, at first eliminating even the steeple. The meeting houses of early America exhibited an understated, square design that differed little from a municipal hall.[17] However, as the Anglican Church presence increased on the east coast, spired church buildings appeared again with traces of the older European pedigree. Throughout the colonies, the spread of affluence and the subsequent demand for sophistication brought the Old World architecture back into vogue.
Interestingly, parishioners in these places renewed the habit of referring to their buildings as “churches,” while architecturally demonstrating the flamboyance which such an appellation would demand.[18] As these churches multiplied in the early 18th century, the dominant influence of Sir Christopher Wren’s London churches became immediately apparent. The architects of model churches in New England, such as the Christ Church in Boston (image 16) or the church of the same name in Philadelphia (image 17), obviously drew their inspiration from the designs of Wren and his successor, James Gibbs.[19] By the start of the 19th century even the staunchest Calvinists were erecting full-size steeples atop their meeting houses.[20] These steeples were made out of wood because that was the most abundant material in the land. Consequently, their decor necessarily disposed with the more elaborate embellishment, which stone constructions allowed. They originally housed bells to function in towns and cities just as the campaniles and west works did in the medieval times of Europe. But how did the Congregationalists rationalize the architectural accommodation, which they formerly treated with such contempt? Perhaps they allowed this because Reformed theology considered the church to be the heart and foundation of any society blessed by God; and by keeping the steeple in church architecture, travelers and citizens alike could look and see demonstrated the centrality of the church, and therefore the centrality of God, in civilization.[21]
The steepled “meeting house” concept dominated the landscape until the time of the neo-classical revival of the early 1800′s,[22] and the Darwinian revolution of science and religion in the United States. Since that time, American churches frequently appear with Doric columns and archways reminiscent of ancient Rome,[23] but with the added essential of the steeple (see any Baptist church). Today steeples typically do not house bells since modern society no longer requires their services for marking time or for warning of coming danger. In fact, ever following the lead of contemporary architecture worldwide, modern churches frequently leave off the steeple altogether in favor of a more functional multi-purpose appearance. But the steeple remains a dominant figure across the skyline of the cities and towns of the United States. (By Neil Carter – Source)
Bibliography
Anderson, William. The Rise of the Gothic. London: Hutchinson and Co., 1985
Bushman, Richard. The Refinement of America. New York : Knopf, 1992.
Crewe, Sarah. ed. Visionary Spires. London: Waterstone & Co., 1986.
Cunningham, Colin. Stones of Witness. Gloucestershire: Sutton Publishing, 1999.
Furst, Viktor. The Architecture of Sir Christopher Wren. London: Lund Humphries, 1956.
Havass, Zahi. The Pyramids of Ancient Egypt. Pittsburgh: Carnegie Museum of Natural History, 1990.
Jeffery, Paul. The City Churches of Sir Christopher Wren. London: The Hambledon Press, 1996.
Norman, Edward. The House of God. London: Thames & Hudson, 1990.
Short, Ernest H. A History of Religious Architecture. N.Y.: The MacMillan Company, 1936.
Wickes, Charles. Illustrations of the Spires and Towers of the Medieval Churches of England. New York: Hessling & Spielmeyer, 1900.
Williams, Peter. Houses of God. Chicago: Univ. of Illinois Press, 1997.
[1] Zahi Havass, The Pyramids of Ancient Egypt, Pittsburgh: Carnegie Museum of Natural History, 1990, p.1. Also Ernest H. Short, A History of Religious Architecture, N.Y.: The MacMillan Company, 1936, p.13
[2] Short, p. 167.
[3] Ibid., p.166-167. Also William Anderson, The Rise of the Gothic, London: Hutchinson and Co., 1985, pp.15-17.
[4] Edward Norman, The House of God, London: Thames & Hudson, 1990, p. 160.
[5] Charles Wickes, Illustrations of the Spires and Towers of the Medieval Churches of England, New York: Hessling & Spielmeyer, 1900, p.18.
[6] Named after Campania, the region around Naples where the metal for making the bells was found, see image 6.
[7] Sarah Crewe, ed., Visionary Spires, London: Waterstone & Co., 1986, p.14.
[8] Ibid, p.18, 21.
[9] Colin Cunningham, Stones of Witness, Gloucestershire: Sutton Publishing, 1999, p. 61.
[10] Paul Jeffery, The City Churches of Sir Christopher Wren, London: The Hambledon Press, 1996, p.18.
[11] Peter Williams, Houses of God, Chicago: Univ. of Illinois Press, 1997, p.9.
[12] Viktor Furst, The Architecture of Sir Christopher Wren, London: Lund Humphries, 1956, p.16.
[13] Jeffery, p.31, 130.
[14] Ibid., p.49.
[15] Ibid., p.88
[16] Williams, p.7.
[17] Richard Bushman, The Refinement of America, New York : Knopf, 1992, p.336.
[18] Williams, p.8.
[19] Bushman, p. 170, 173-4.
[20] Ibid., pp. 341-342.
[21] Cunningham, p.60.
[22] Ibid, p.5.
Read more at thedissidentblog.wordpress.com[23] Bushman, p.338.
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