“Architecture is the material expression of the wants, the faculties, and the sentiments, of the age in which it is created.” – Owen Jones, 1865 The Grammar of Ornament

This, Jones’s second of 37 propositions, very clearly states that all architecture has meaning. More than just meaning, it actively says something about its creators and those who use and visit it. Today, we see an increasing desire and real need for beauty, most especially in our churches. In the case of Immaculate Conception Church in Omaha, NE, renovating this interior meant addressing those wants, needs, and symbols to the end that every single element of this church is intentional and cohesive. This church thus serves as an example of what is possible, how we ought to think of our churches, and what it means to adorn them.

I ask that you take a moment to study this image.

You might think it’s really not so bad. It has “good bones” and at least a classical structure and ornamented apse; but it undeniably lacks something. The expansive ceiling in sea-foam green seems to slowly press down. The windows in full sun and the bright pendant lights can’t seem to light the interior well enough. And the reredos is far too large for the baldacchino containing it.

It’s not a bad church, but it isn’t the place of transcendent beauty that uplift the soul and demand us to examine ourselves. Architect and co-designer of the remodeled interior Erik Bootsma says a church is a symbolic building by nature and all art, or lack thereof, means something. With this in mind, the design involves a series of conscious, deliberate choices to communicate devotion to the Immaculate Conception and the tradition of the faith.

When we first look at the renovated interior, the amount of white is striking. The ceiling, walls, and even most of the floor is clad in warm white, symbolic of Mary’s purity but also importantly brightening the space. If you have heard anyone from Canning speak, you know how often we say white is the lack of color and often darkens a room. This is largely true, but the special case of this church is the warmth of the white and critically, the softened contrast between the white surfaces and the grey achieves a warm and luminous interior.

The few areas of color thus stand out prominently. The grey and ochre floor guide your gaze to the sanctuary, where they are met with vertical red marbleized columns. Red is symbolic of Christ’s blood and sacrifice and serves as a striking focal point in this otherwise calm palette. Above the baldacchino is a single blue roundel with the words “Tota pulchra es” – you are completely beautiful – referencing her immaculate conception. Blue of course references Mary’s mantel as she is traditionally depicted, but blue has also historically been a very expensive color as it does not frequently occur as a pigment in nature. Blue could only be concocted from lapis lazuli and other precious materials, marking any figure painted in blue as one of wondrous importance. 

Within the baldacchino, the ceiling is entirely gilded, as are select elements on the statues. Gold needs little explanation for its significance, but it calls to mind the Holy of Holies in the Old Testament. The figures are also white, done by ALBL Oberammergau in a “milk finish” to look like porcelain. Their garments and symbols of sainthood are delicately gilded to highlight the dynamic poses and catch the eye when contrasted with their symmetric, geometric surroundings.   

Elsewhere in the church, bursts of color spring forth from the stained-glass windows, warm wooden pews, and dark window tracery frame all the details nicely. A key element of the interior is the lighting. The pendants throw light up and down unobtrusively from the side aisles, strip LEDs illuminate the clerestory windows, and only a few spotlights hidden in the baldacchino and the nave columns shine into the sanctuary. Every light has a warm color temperature and supports the architecture and decoration without distracting from it. This makes all the difference in the final colors and experience of the church.

Elements that require a slightly closer look are the basic shapes. The overall design is inspired by Florentine churches, which was a product of humanist philosophy and movements of decorative austerity. In Florence, they used the natural order of the universe to guide their designs and proportions. Circles symbolize perfection and the heavenly sphere; squares symbolize the earth with its four corners; and triangles of course symbolize the Trinity. From an assortment of these shapes, we can create the quatrefoil – an arrangement of four circles lined with a square – symbolic of the four evangelists and creating a softened cross. The columns in the baldacchino are elongated quatrefoils; the floor and floorplan are made up of squares to symbolize the earthly realm; the walls are adorned with rectangles and geometric shapes to give order; and the ceiling and roundel symbolize the heavenly realm.

The decoration, though simple, is rich in history and symbolism. When you finally see the language of the church, the depth is revealed and each detail you ponder draws you back to the faith and prayer. When architecture reflects our want and need for Christ’s forgiveness and His kingdom, it becomes a prayer. Recognizing this and learning how to see the theology of a church, we may see the beauty of God’s house and His Church.

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