Guest Columnist Courage and Faith Stand United in Haiti

Feb 8, 2010

Commonly known as “Port-au-Prince Cathedral,” the stately Cathédrale Notre-Dame de L'Assomption (Our Lady of the Assumption) once stood at the epicenter of Catholic culture in the French Caribbean country.  Built between 1884 and 1914, dedicated on December 13, 1928 and clad in pink and white stone, the twin cupolas at the north façade have guided harbor ships as well as Catholic faithful to the shores of Haiti and within its walls.  But in the wake of the January earthquake, the “bare ruin’d choirs” of its ghostly structure became the national “wailing wall” for the survivors of the Haitian tragedy, a symbol of what the poorest of the poor has suffered.  Having lost their families and homes, their bishop and their cathedral, the Catholics cling to courage and faith – they stand united in Haiti.

Back to this shattered Cathedral they came – the diplomats and politicians, the novices and seminarians and the everyday Catholics – to worship at the funeral Mass for their beloved Archbishop Joseph Serge Miot and Bishop Charles Benoit, Vicar General of Port-au-Prince.  “If Monsigneur [Archbishop] Miot were alive, he would tell us to have courage, to be strong in starting over,” according to Marie-Andre Baril, a banker whose home was also destroyed in the earthquake. “With my faith, I hope to have what he would want us to have. I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying here.”

Twin caskets, fallen symbols of the lost twin cupolas, sat in repose in the rubble, paired for a final farewell, adrift in a sea of pink and white stone and chards of stained glass, harbored in the shadows of the great cathedral walls.  Hundreds of faithful assembled for Mass, reverently attired, finding their seats in rescued pews and folding metal chairs, despite death and decay where once stood the altar.  Still, they sang the praises of God in honor of their fallen bishop and the vicar general.  “You will never find another man like him,” said Eric Bruno, a mechanic attired in a dark wool suit who remembered his fallen bishop.  “He would have been the first person here to help, trying to get people everything they need.”

Known as a gentle shepherd who humbly guided his flock, Archbishop Miot was remembered as a shy man who died in his church, now lost to those who would turn to the church in times of their greatest trials.  In the words of the Psalm 33, the favorite of their former bishop, they proclaimed “Sing to the LORD a new song . . .” as they commended his soul to the mercy of God.  “We are all in pain, but we are all united by this,” Bishop Joseph Lafontant, presiding at the funeral, reminded the faithful mourners. “We are, all of us, equal. We're all hit by this tragedy. Everyone feels this pain.” (cf. Scott Wilson and William Booth, The Washington Post, Saturday, January 23, 2010).

Catholic Relief Services, well-known and respected for their early response in such disasters, had representatives on the ground, even before the earthquake occurred.  From their headquarters in Baltimore, Maryland, they continue their massive operations of shipping basic necessities and medical supplies.  Rapid response from the Navy hospital ship, USNS Comfort continues to provide the most acute medical care; while field hospitals have mounted to assist with the overwhelming needs throughout the city.  Cameron Sinclair (co-founder “Architecture for Humanity” and the “Open Architecture Network”) has issued a call for community-led reconstruction efforts, learning from the models of Hurricane Katrina and the Sri Lanka tsunami response. 

“In a few weeks attention to Haiti will die down, just as the real work begins in reconstructing affected areas. By setting up community housing resource centers and working directly with families, we could create not only the appropriate and sustainable structures but homes that fit the lives of residents. In order serve the families suffering right now, we need to develop long term reconstruction initiatives that include the voices of those affected at the heart of the plans. Top down solutions will cause tragic consequences for generations to come. This cannot happen in Haiti. They have suffered enough.” 

Architecture for Humanity proposes a seven point long-term program for reconstruction.  This plan includes setting up Community Resource Centers, staffed with professional architects and construction professionals to develop more complex facilities such as medical centers and schools.  Essential to this plan would be the education and training of residents and volunteers in the techniques of earthquake-resistant and sustainable design practices.  Working to translate housing and rebuilding manuals fosters the work that could continue on a long-term basis.  More information is found on the website.  Other organizations, including the U.S. Green Buildings Council, Habitat for Humanity, Engineers without Borders, Partners in Health and the Solar Electric Light Fund are all joining forces to bring relief to the built environment.   

Growing up in Port-au-Prince, Kesler Pierre regularly attended Mass at the Cathedral.  He had been present when the Holy Father of fond memory, John Paul II, came to the cathedral during his 1983 pontifical visit. “The cathedral is the tallest building in Port-au-Prince. You can’t get lost in the city, because anywhere you are, you can see it.”  After immigrating to the United States later that same year, Mr. Pierre embraced the art of stained glass as his professional endeavor.  Love for his craft and for his homeland inspired him to mount a long battle to save the endangered stained glass windows of Notre-Dame de L’Assomption. “It took forty years to build, and in thirty seconds, it’s gone,” he said of his beloved Cathedral, which became the image recurrent in the media stream pouring out of Haiti. 

A restoration specialist with expertise in stained glass conservation, Mr. Pierre returned to Haiti in 1998 to begin a painstaking documentation of the stained glass windows of the Cathedral. With his photographs, he petitioned the ambassadors and prelates, proposed strategies to church and state officials for the window restoration project to benefit the Cathedral and the community.  He hoped to form a nonprofit academy, chartered to train local workers in the art of stained glass.  He had arranged a meeting with Archbishop Miot to gain support for the work, but the project failed to materialize. 

With images of the century-old stained glass windows as his inspiration, Mr. Pierre posted the photos on his website: in an effort to gain support for the project.  Some fragments of stained glass, mere pieces collected from the grounds outside the Port-au-Prince Cathedral in the hope of restoring them to their original condition and position, remind him of the failed efforts.  Louismaille Racine, a co-worker of Mr. Pierre, who came to the United States three years ago, described the Cathedral as “the model of Port-au-Prince.”  From his days attending Mass there, he recalled, “if you went to Port-au-Prince, it’s the first place you would go.”  (cf. Corey Kilgannon, The New York Times, January 15, 2010).

Amid the profound destruction of human life, it becomes difficult to prioritize rebuilding the Cathedral.  For in the eyes of the world, there are moral imperatives to address through the corporal works of mercy, which must be accomplished to preserve each precious human life.  However, in this effort, there are spiritual works of mercy frequently left wanting, as shown in the unfulfilled dreams of Mr. Pierre and Mr. Racine to preserve and protect their beloved Cathedral, with the great heritage of its stained glass, now totally lost.  Rebuilding a replacement to the Cathedral embodies some of both considerations, and requires generous response from Catholics outside Haiti. 

Even in parishes where restorations are possible, perfectly devout Catholics frequently object “how can we spend resources on a church when people are in need, as they are in Haiti?”  There are those who would answer “Indeed, how could we NOT?”  The Bible is filled with similar comparisons, these tensions between serving the poor and giving glory to God, and the question of social justice.  For David said he could not rest in a house of cedar while the Ark of the Covenant was housed in a tent.  Mary Magdalene could not sell the alabaster jar of precious nard to feed the poor, but broke the jar to anoint the feet of Our Blessed Lord.  For this, Our Lord defended her generosity against the criticism of Judas – which seems not unlike the criticism of our time.  The great cathedrals – in Europe and the Americas – were not built by the rich alone – they were built with widow’s “mites” and pennies from the poor. 

The Feast of the Presentation of the Lord (observed as the ancient Feast of “Candlemas” on February 2) reminds us that the Lord’s own “epiphany” in the world also elevates man-made edifices that bear witness to the glory of God.  Ultimately the “sermon in glass and stone” is the Eternal Word, proclaimed boldly by the great basilicas, cathedrals and churches through two-thousand years of Christianity.  The Holy Child, the Word in flesh, demonstrates the perfect obedience in fulfilling the Law of Moses, already knowing that his parents will faithfully present him in the Temple.  Through His humility, He validates the very “structure” that is the house of worship and the temple of sacrifice.  Here, Old Testament meets the New Testament, and the Eternal Word advances to greet the Ark of the Covenant. 

His “Real Presence” of God-made-man in the Temple of Jerusalem bestows sanctification like no other – causing Simeon to cry out “Lord, now you may dismiss your servant in peace, your word has been fulfilled.” Moreover, this submission of Our Blessed Lord shows the infinite condescension of God in human nature, who in the words of St. Paul, “though He was in the form of God, He did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, He emptied Himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, He humbled Himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross.” (Phil 2:6-8).

Great architecture, art, music and stained glass create that harbor for the human heart like no other, where the “food for the soul” is enshrined and the place where the “bread of angels” is consecrated.  This is the essence of the “new evangelization” to which the Holy Father of fond memory, John Paul II and our current Holy Father Benedict XVI give credence.  Cupolas (paired like the Old and New Testaments) serve not simply as the lighthouse to the ships in the harbor, but to the vast world of souls seeking comfort from the rough seas and storms of daily life.  Stained glass catechizes and comforts with lasting impressions that resonate profoundly in human hearts.  Even in the ruins, Mass is offered, the dead are buried, and the archbishop shepherds his flock with a humility lived to his last breath. 

In Haiti, the great question of justice is one not only of justice to God, but to every human soul that needs to be uplifted by the Divine.  That is why churches should be beautifully transcendent, and not pulled down to the lowest level architecture of the commonplace, especially in the poorest of poor countries.  More than a century ago, the people of Haiti (poor as they were) did not build less than a palace for their great Cathedral de Notre-Dame de L’Assomption – and they named if for the “uplifting” of Our Blessed Lady in the triumph of her Immaculate Heart.  That this Cathedral was allowed to fall into disrepair was the injustice (not necessarily on the part of the Haitian people or their ordinary) in our own lack of generosity.  That it has been destroyed beyond repair is the great tragedy.  That it may be replaced in the spirit homage to the original is our necessity and our responsibility. 

Restoring the cathedral involves far greater commitment than restoring a neighborhood, because it restores the place where the “Real Presence” resides and has the power to “make all things new.”  Let us pray that with our efforts, on behalf of the courageous and faithful people of Haiti, we might develop the means to rebuild more than a great landmark, more than a beloved church, more than stone and stained glass.  Let us pray that by our efforts at partnership with these people, we rebuild the sense of awe of the Creator, who though broken on a cross, lifted us out of the rubble of sin and death, and restores us to new life. 

Printed with permission for the Foundation for Sacred Arts.

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