Light

Internal space has two interesting properties: blocking light and admitting light. This is true for all sorts of buildings. New trends in the challenge of creating sustainable architecture deal with working out ideas about how they may admit light and block heat at the same time, or harness the heat as a resource to create energy needed in the building, for cooling in the summer, heating in the winter, and for artificial lighting.

San Vitale, Ravenna

But light – admittance of light – has a symbolic and spiritual function in the sacred architecture. We see different uses of it. In the early Byzantine churches there were thick stone walls with smaller windows, often with a rounded arch on top. The light would stream in through these openings, give the effect of spotlights, but also leave other parts of the room in shadows. 

There was also the use of artificial light, candles or oil lamps, which create a soft, intimate atmosphere. For instance in San Vitale in Ravenna, the contrast in light/shadow is captivating. In addition, the interior designs, murals, add to the meaning, the interpretation of what is central, what meets us inside the thick walls. Intentional mysteries are lingering in the light, dust, shaded areas, dark alcoves. This is a sacred place, manifest during worship.

John, the apostle, testifies about Jesus, saying: “In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

English Gothic chapel

In the Gothic churches the admittance of light was in focus, and large stained glass windows were inserted into the stone structure. The internal space reflects a theology of stressing God’s greatness, his light and grace. There is an open feel in the building, with tall walls, high vaulted ceilings, with an upward drift. In order to create this illuminated inner space, the building structure was laid on the outside, and we see the support, particularly in the flying buttresses.  

           James, in his epistle to the twelve tribes, says, ”Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation of shadow of turning.”

Fjågesund kyrkje

How do our parish churches play with light?

We have several churches in our parish, and the priests take turn holding services in the different churches. Today we went to a somewhat different church building, architecturally. It is inspired by the traditional old stave churches of Norway and is a brown wooden building with smaller windows admitting pockets of natural light. This church is located in Fjågesund. It was built in 1915, high up on a hill.  The wooden interior has carvings inspired by old Norse folk traditions, in addition to the cross of St. Andrew. Vertical wood panelling creates a cosy, but somewhat dark interior. There are two rows of windows: larger ones on top and smaller ones in the lower level. One trefoil shaped stained glass window above the altar symbolises the Holy Trinity, and light streams in from this.

          

  During the service the priest happened to step into these pockets of light, thus reflecting the light brightly. 

Fjågesund kyrkje, in servcie

 It was captivating in its beauty and simple symbolism. We see and experience the effects of light in the sacred space. It is not we who are the light, but we reflect the light towards the people around us. And we can only reflect it when it shines on us, in us and through us.

Jesus says: “You are the light of the world.”

The theme of light is closely connected to truth and beauty. This connection is in turn fundamental in defining the moral good. I sense an endless contemplation of light – a glimpse into eternal perspectives.

Pockets of light, Fjågesund kyrkje