Deep in the Ozarks a most beautiful AND INSPIRING chapel

During our travels Stew and I visit local places of worship of any religious persuasion, a quirky habit that has taken us from tiny, remote country chapels in Iceland to landmark churches that mark the center of some cities. Religious edifices can be imposing, as if to broadcast the earthly wealth and political power of the builders rather than religious devotion. Others, like the Church in the Attic in Amsterdam, were designed to be hidden and anonymous. Likewise, church interiors go from the most garish baroque, where not an inch of space is left untouched, to the austere spaces of worship of some Scandinavian denominations with white walls, clear glass windows and nary a religious icon anywhere.

Roman Catholicism in particular stresses the redemptive power of suffering, beginning with the crucifixion of Jesus, and perhaps to underline that point, the inside of some churches in Mexico can resemble an unsettling chamber of horrors with representations of Jesus or a myriad saints in some state of agony. In particular, churches in Oaxaca, though sometimes stunning and dripping with gold, feel oppressive rather than inspiring.

In San Miguel, the Lord of the Column is a life-size statue of a flagellated and bloody Jesus with his elbows resting on a pillar that is carried in procession into town by thousands of people on Palm Sunday from the sanctuary of Atotonilco eight miles away, amid singing and fireworks. Even after being raised Roman Catholic and attending Catholic schools from kindergarten right through college, the sight of the Lord of the Column gives me the creeps rather than rekindle my quite dormant religious faith.

Rather, simplicity quiets my head and can turn my thoughts to the Guy (or Gal) Upstairs. The simple and small St. Paul’s Anglican Church in San Miguel does that for me—no priests, music, incense or liturgy required. Over the altar, a cross with a representation of the Risen Jesus, with a hint of a smile, looks down and projects an aura of acceptance and contentment to the congregation.

When we visited friends in Eureka Springs, Arkansas a few weeks ago, a stop at Thorncrown Chapel, just outside of town in a heavily wooded area with a view of the Ozarks, was on the itinerary. It did not disappoint and was a welcome respite from the touristy tchotchkiness that pervades in the town.

Except for the more than 400 panes of glass that bring in light and the surrounding woods into the interior, the church is made entirely of materials indigenous to Arkansas, including treated pine for the structure and flagstone for the floor and the foundations. When crisscrossed, the wood beams create an intricate pattern of repeating rhomboid shapes of various sizes that almost seems like an optical illusion. Because of the extensive use of glass, and the use of wood, to the eye the inside and outside become one.

The chapel was built in 1980 by a retired school teacher who wanted to create a non-denominational pilgrimage site for meditation. The architect was E. Fay Jones, who apprenticed with Frank Lloyd Wright. Since its completion the chapel has been showered with honors from the American Institute of Architects, listed on the National Register of Historic Places twenty years after it was completed, and become a tourist destination, visited by over seven million visitors since it opened.

None of the four people in our group were particularly religious, and none could articulate exactly how this chapel projected such a sensation of awe and reflection, much like you experience when you stand in front of a +masterpiece painting or sculpture. For me it was the simplicity, despite the intricate network of wood beams. There wasn’t even an altar when we were there. The only religious symbols were crosses in the wall lighting fixtures.

If anything, Thorncrowm Chapel illustrated the “less is more” style of architecture as applied to a place of worship. . That’s what entranced me and apparently some of the millions of visitors that have visited it, not looking for any religious spectacle, but just to sit quietly and meditate.