In Notre Dame’s Ruins, a Glimpse of Eternity

Even supposedly immutable monuments are just as transient as anything else.

On a recent trip to Paris, I swung by Notre Dame. I expected a blackened ruin. Instead, I was surprised to find what looked like a construction site, complete with scaffolding. It all felt orderly, for want of a better term, which seems like a minor miracle in the wake of the April fire that destroyed the structure’s roof and spire.

I walked around the perimeter, which was blocked by a tall wall (presumably to protect passersby from falling debris). The big question, now that funding for reconstruction is secured, is whether that reconstruction should remain faithful to the former design, or follow some new, as-yet-unimagined path.

But why rebuild? In a fascinating essay, Jay Rubenstein makes the case for “magnificent ruins,” writing:

“It’s daunting to imagine at the center of Paris a new Colosseum or Parthenon, the wounds of fire and the ages transformed into a badge of honor, no less spiritual for being unwillingly opened to the heavens, gardens now inside and out, religious practice occurring, if at all, in the limited sheltered spaces. But it is a vision worth contemplating.”