Many will remember where they were when they heard that Notre-Dame Cathedral was on fire. A friend broke the news to me as we were making plans for dinner; suddenly, something as mundane as dinner made no more sense in the context of the unfolding inferno.

Try as we may, it will be hard to get the images of that beautiful medieval masterpiece up in flames out of our minds. Fortunately, no one died in the fire.

However, the initial reports were discouraging. Some doubted whether the walls of the cathedral would be safe. All seemed lost.

As night gave way to day, the damage could be assessed more carefully. A shocked world looked on and mourned. There was a genuine outpouring of grief at the thought that such a monument could be lost forever.

A building which took nearly 200 years to build could have been reduced to ash in less than an hour.

There are several reasons why the loss of such a building shook the world.

It is a building of profound historical importance. Its foundation stone was laid in the presence of Pope Alexander III and King Louis VII; it contained precious relics which, in turn, made it a place of pilgrimage. Its history is intrinsically linked with the political and social history of France.

During the French Revolution, it was rededicated to the Cult of Reason. Its damaged central spire was dismantled and, eventually, the cathedral was used as a warehouse. Napoleon Bonaparte restored the cathedral and crowned himself emperor in the presence of Pope Pius VII within this sacred place.

Notre-Dame was a building which captured the imagination. It remained the most popular site in Paris with an estimated 12 million visitors per year. Artists, writers and musicians were not immune to this charm.

Permanence and transcendence run counter to a materialist culture

Jacques-Louis David exquisitely captures the moment when Napoleon crowns himself as emperor. Henri Matisse was inspired to paint two representations of the cathedral. In The Hunchback of Notre-Dame, Victor Hugo celebrates the beautiful architecture of this cathedral. Pierre Cochereau, the one-time organist at Notre-Dame, left compositions which are among the most beautiful works to be played on the organ.

Notre-Dame exposed that common lie; that the Middle Ages were some “Dark Age” where people were uncivilised and primitive. Indeed, it is one of the many monuments which are a testament to this epoch in the history of Europe – an age which gave us beautiful abbeys and cathedrals, towns and universities as well as the most celebrated minds whose work and ideas still shape our modern world.

The cathedral preserved this heritage and perpetuated it.

The potential loss of heritage can explain sadness and shock, but it does not explain the sense of grief that many experienced.

On that fateful day when the cathedral caught fire, the Church was marking Monday in Holy Week. The Gospel reading is particularly moving. Jesus visits his friends – Martha, Mary and Lazarus. Mary takes a pound of costly perfume made with pure nard and anoints Jesus. The entire house is filled with the fragrance.

A cynical Judas points out that such a perfume could have been sold and its money given to the poor. But Mary gives without counting the cost, and her generosity leaves a lasting fragrance within her house. 

This was also the case with those who, throughout the ages helped to make Notre-Dame a unique place of faith and encounter with God. They gave generously without counting the cost; it was not a project of vanity, nor was it useless. Instead, its awe-inspiring beauty tried to make sense of that which words cannot easily express. People are drawn to beauty. However, once one experiences that beauty, the senses seek to go deeper and further.

It is a feeling which can be experienced when entering such magnificent buildings which exude a sense of permanenceand transcendence. Tchaikovsky once exclaimed: “There is nothing like entering an ancient church on a Saturday, standing in the semi-darkness with the scent of incense wafting through the air, lost in deep contemplation searching for an answer to those perennial questions, wherefore, when, whither and why?”

Permanence and transcendence run counter to a materialist culture, which increasingly offers satisfaction but is shorn of meaning and purpose. As the fires ravaged and threatened Notre-Dame, it was as though the very stones cried out, “do not weep for me; weep for yourselves and your children”.

Part of us weeps for Notre-Dame because we realise that, within that building, there was something which every one of us seeks and hopes to find.

André Debattista is an independent researcher in politics and international relations.

This is a Times of Malta print opinion piece