Changes in 20th Century Sacred Architecture in two Costa Rican churches after Vatican II: a Comparative Analysis

Introduction

The twentieth century was an era of significant changes in the arts, architecture, and within the Catholic Church. The Second Vatican Council, which was the 21st ecumenical council in the history of the Church, will be remembered as the most important event in the last century for Catholics. However, as Pope Benedict XVI has explained^[i], after its conclusion, two opposing hermeneutics (i.e., keys of interpretation) have produced opposing ways of receiving, and applying, the Council. The most notorious changes are evident in the liturgy: the fruits of the reform of the missal and other ritual books, and their manifestation in sacred architecture is obvious. Benedict XVI’s invitation, however, was precisely to understand these changes within the context of theological continuity because «what earlier generations held as sacred, remains sacred and great for us too»^[ii].

This capstone project aims to analyze the relationship between architecture and liturgy in the years after the Second Vatican Council and its application. For this purpose, the intent will be to make a comparison between a church, the cathedral of Alajuela, built in a traditional style, and renovated several times in the last decades, and the parish of Santa Cecilia in Heredia, constructed in the 1990’s and recently renovated; both churches in Costa Rica. The methodology tool will include interviews with priests involved with these churches – to learn about the changes made to both buildings and their diverse architectural and liturgical approaches. Before making this interpretative analysis, however, it is necessary to establish what the fundamental notions of sacred architecture are based on, as well as the guidelines of the Second Vatican Council and other post-conciliar pontifical documents with which this comparative study will be carried out. This project seeks, in this way, to collaborate with the intentions of the Second Vatican Council by making an authentic application while promoting interest in sacred architecture. The goal will be to seek for solutions so that the faithful can have a more fruitful participation in the liturgy of the Church; even through the arrangement of the building elements consecrated to worship.

It will be significant to analyze whether or not a particular style of architecture, at its foundational core, proposes rupture and secularity or is suitable for expressing the development in continuity of Christian doctrine and the sacredness of its worship space. The changes that occurred in art in the last century, and how one, or another, architectural style is applied in the construction or renovation of a building dedicated to divine worship directly impacts the liturgy. As Dennis McNamara explains in Catholic Church Architecture and the Spirit of the Liturgy, «every architectural choice is the result of a theological presupposition, whether intellectualized or intuitive. Architectural arguments are really theological arguments, and proper architectural solutions grow from proper theological ideas»^[iii]. An example provided by the same author clarifies this affirmation: if someone wants to build an altar rail, a discussion will start immediately, and adjectives like “pre-conciliar” will appear.^[iv]

Chapter 1
Prolegomena

Before analyzing the changes in sacred architecture during the last century, as a reception of the Second Vatican Council, and comparing the renovations carried out in the Cathedral of Alajuela with the Parish of Santa Cecilia in Heredia, it is necessary to establish the prolegomena, that is, the fundamentals that must be taken into account when speaking of sacred architecture. Then, a brief notion of church architecture will be offered, as well as the changes that have occurred in the last century both at the level of artistic styles and in the Roman liturgy. Finally, some perspectives for the future will be proposed. This will take into consideration the reflections of various scholars specialized in this subject, in light of the documents of the Second Vatican Council, and post-conciliar magisterium, concerning the matter in question.

Principles of sacred architecture

Architect and architectural  historian Duncan Stroik has noted how «From earliest times men have raised up cities with temples inside them»^[v]. Some of the most important archaeological sites worldwide are indeed  sacred places: this is ruins of temples. Christianity has been no exception to this desire for dedicated places of worship. Excavations at Dura-Europos, for example, have provided access to the remains of ancient house churches from the period before the Constantinian peace. The existence of these buildings, even before the year 135 AD, was first mentioned by Eusebius^[vi]. There were places within the churches dedicated to their liturgical use: the baptistery, the altar, and the various spaces necessary for celebrating Christian liturgy. Architecture was considered necessary to serve divine worship and not viceversa. Elements such as the orientation of the altar took into account the teaching of the Church Fathers, rather than the functionality of the place; as Uwe Michael Lang has demonstrated in his book Turning Towards the Lord.

According to Stroik, after Constantine’s conversion, the temples involved a novelty: «the pre-Christian templum Dei became also a domus ecclesiae, both house of God and a house of the people of God»^[vii], with a special focus on the architecture inside the building. Although they adopted already existing, classical architectural styles, these buildings were adapted to the theological needs of Christianity. In his book Turning Towards the Lord, Lang explains how Roman basilicas and early churches are constructed in such a way that the eschatological dimension of the liturgy becomes evident^[viii].

Throughout the centuries, various architectural styles emerged that considered new techniques and even new artistic tastes of each era. From Constantine’s era to the twenty-first  century, the construction of churches has acquired various architectural styles, among which, Stroik mentions, that there has always been continuity and an  interest in clearly expressing the sacred character of the building^[ix]:

What unifies the majority of these churches, whether basilical, centralized, cruciform, early Christian, or Baroque is that they all employ what Sir John Summerson calls the “Classical Language of Architecture.” It is a language using the vocabulary of walls, vaulted ceilings, domes, towers, columns, and arches. Like any language, there is a syntax, grammar, position, poetry, and prose.^[x]

There is also a traditional language proper to sacred architecture. Michael Rose identifies at least three elements based upon those originally described by the ancient Roman architect Vitruvius, which Rose groups into the three categories or natural laws of church architecture^[xi]. The first of these elements is verticality, which speaks of transcendence. Verticality invites us to think of heavenly realities; it is an architectural response to the invitation of the liturgy: sursum corda. Verticality is achieved through building parts such as towers or domes, vaults, apses, and the height of the building. A second element that Rose proposes is permanence; which also signifies the permanence of Christ, Who is the same yesterday, today, and forever (cf. Heb 13:8). Permanence is achieved through the quality of the materials used and the firmness conveyed by its foundation. The third element proposed by Rose is iconography, which undoubtedly distinguishes a Catholic church from a Protestant temple, as well as its helping the faithful to contemplate the mysteries celebrated in the liturgy and the felt presence of the Church Triumphant.

Despite the differences in architectural style, the elements mentioned above were always present until before twentieth-century modernism. According to Stroik, «the Modernist inversion reacted against the whole sacred panorama of two millennia of Christianity»^[xii]. David Clayton explains that for Benedict XVI, of the various architectural styles the Gothic and Baroque traditions can be considered authentically Catholic since they arise from the ideals of the Catholic faith^[xiii]. Elizabeth Lev demonstrates how Baroque architecture is the proper art of the Counter-Reformation and how it helped the faith in troubled times^[xiv]. However, according to Clayton, all Catholic architectural traditions, adequately applied (i.e., in continuity), complement one another.

Clayton and McNamara argue that beauty is not something subjective but that which clearly expresses ontological reality^[xv]:

Beauty is nothing less than the revelation of the ontological reality of a thing, the expression in material form of the innermost heart of the very identity of its being. It is the manifestation of the “what-ness” of a thing (…), the divinity of divine liturgy.^[xvi]

When this notion of beauty is applied to the relationship between architecture and liturgy, «beauty is that which reveals the true nature of the liturgy most clearly»^[xvii]. Through  architecture, the faithful can identify a church from its exterior, and within it, they must be aided by the building’s components to better participate in the liturgy. Like the lex orandi – lex credendi relationship, McNamara proposes a third element: lex aedificandi^[xviii]. Architecture is an expression of the builder’s faith (or non-faith) and this influences the faith of the celebrant of the liturgy; «because there are right beliefs, there is in fact a right way of building»^[xix]. McNamara calls this orthotecnics. As a cardinal, Joseph Ratzinger affirmed that sacred architecture must speak the same language of the Incarnation^[xx], of the eternal Logos who became man.

The Second Vatican Council

Two significant events in the twentieth century directly affect the subject of this study: the Second Vatican Council and the emergence of modernism as an artistic movement. The Second Vatican Council took place between 1962 and 1965. St. John XXIII convened it to analyze the Church’s relationship with the modern world, seeking an aggiornamento. However, as Benedict XVI explained in his address to the Roman Curia on the occasion of Christmas greetings in 2005, this updating does not imply rupture but rather a Catholic idea of development as continuity^[xxi]. The very protagonists of the Council expressed this idea: St. John XXIII in his opening address^[xxii], and St. Paul VI in his closing address.^[xxiii] However, as mentioned in the introduction, two different hermeneutics have made its reception difficult. It is, therefore, appropriate to ask what the Council teaches about sacred architecture.

The most essential document in this regard is the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy Sacrosanctum Concilium, Chapter VII, which is dedicated to liturgical art. No. 123 of this document states that the Church does not consider a single artistic style as her own and that She is open to new styles of art, «provided that it adorns the sacred buildings and holy rites with due reverence and honor»^[xxiv]. No. 124 goes a step further: it asks that noble beauty be considered over sumptuousness and establishes that:

Bishops carefully remove from the house of God and from other sacred places those works of artists which are repugnant to faith, morals, and Christian piety, and which offend true religious sense either by depraved forms or by lack of artistic worth, mediocrity and pretense. And when churches are to be built, let great care be taken that they be suitable for the celebration of liturgical services and for the active participation of the faithful.^[xxv]

After the Council, the liturgical reform led to the possibility of some architectural changes: «The main altar should preferably be freestanding, to permit walking around it and celebration facing the people. Its location in the place of worship should be truly central so that the attention of the whole congregation naturally focuses there.»^[xxvi] Note that the possibility of the freestanding altar is precisely that: a possibility. Moreover, the centrality of the altar does not refer to its occupying the center of the nave but rather that the people focus their attention on the sacrifice celebrated there. The same document, the instruction Inter Ocumenici, states that the celebrant’s seat should occupy a place that clarifies his presidency over the community^[xxvii]. It does not prohibit the construction of side altars, although it does ask that there not be too many and recommends that they be outside the body of the church^[xxviii]. The instruction continues to call for the centrality of the tabernacle, although it allows that, with the bishop’s authorization, it may be in a separate chapel dedicated to adoration.

Despite the directives of the Council and other post-conciliar documents, in many cases, the hermeneutic of rupture denounced in 2005 by Benedict XVI led to the destruction of ancient altars of high artistic value, and the architectural unity of many churches was compromised by various experiments. Lang explains how Cardinal Giacomo Lercaro himself, president of the Council for Liturgical Reform, called for prudence with architectural changes and novelties^[xxix]. In 1971, the Holy See published the magisterial document Opera Artist to stop the architectural abuses in many places. However, the Lutheran architectural style of Edward Sövik, which emphasizes a non-Catholic theology, was taken as a model in various sectors. An opposition between “real presence,” sacrificial altar, a place for the Word of God, and the common priesthood of the faithful, versus the clerical hierarchy, is evident in the architectural experimentation and changes in churches of the 1970s and 1980s.

Faced with this situation, scholars, both theologians^[xxx] and architects^[xxxi], proposed an attentive reading of Church’s magisterial teaching so that the way churches are built will be a faithful response to what the Holy See asks.

According to the Council, art is more than pleasant enriching of a room or singing of earthly wealth and status; it is a ministry. Minister (…) itself is etymologically related to the word servant. So art serves the liturgy, amplifies it, and supports it. It never draws attention to itself as a dead end of fashionable artists or trendy secular theories.^[xxxii]

Stroik adamantly contends that, «In a time when there is a great misunderstanding of the meaning of the Mass and belief in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, it is important that we reemphasize the Church’s teaching through the medium of beautiful liturgy and sacramental architecture»^[xxxiii]. To achieve this invitation, he has proposed that the best means to employ is following the guidelines the Church offers through Her teaching. As McNamara states: «When the Council texts are seen according to Pope Benedict’s hermeneutic of reform rather than the hermeneutic of discontinuity, the liturgical reform of the Second Vatican Council does not emerge as a break with the received liturgical tradition»^[xxxiv].

New architectural styles in the 20^th century.

The discussions surrounding the theology of the liturgy, in light of the interpretation of the Second Vatican Council directly affect how churches are built. Still, the changes and new styles in the architecture of the last century have a no less critical weight. As mentioned earlier, despite the various styles used, from Christian antiquity to neo-Gothic, there has always been continuity and harmony with the sacred nature of an ecclesiastical building. With the emergence of modernism, however, circumstances change. «The texts of the Council crashed headlong into the culture of Modernity, with its characteristic features of skepticism, methodological doubt, scientific rationalism, and radical dualism»^[xxxv]. Modernist architecture is, precisely, evidence of this cultural context.

According to John Walford, «the terms “modern art” and “Modernism” refer to a period from approximately the 1860s to the 1970s»^[xxxvi]. Events like the First and Second World Wars made it such that «artists and architects maintained their independence from artists’ traditional sources of support – Church, state, and aristocracy – and rejected patrons’ traditional values»^[xxxvii]. The same author explains that modernism moves away from tradition and seeks new artistic possibilities that oppose the established architectural conventions, exploring philosophical ideas such as the death of God and the alienation of the human being^[xxxviii]. «At the heart of Modernism was the feeling that Western culture and the values that sustained it had become bankrupt»^[xxxix].

Walford affirms that «If God appears at all in modern art, it has been as an impersonal, cosmic life force (…) In the twentieth century, most modern artists abandoned the traditional Christian focus on a historical drama of human sin and divine redemption»^[xl]. This inherent opposition to Christian doctrine implies an insurmountable problem when applying this artistic style to the construction of a building dedicated to Catholic liturgy. According to Clayton, in sacred art, there is a place for a partial abstraction that «when done well, reveals more, not less, of the reality of what is portrayed»^[xli], the eschatological dimension of Christian faith. However, there must not be an excess of abstraction that denies the realism and historicity that is proper to it:

To abstract means literally to draw out, and so in this context the artist is drawing out the truth (…) When it hides truth, as much modern art does, the result is an ugly distortion (…) The work of the Cristian artist, in the context of figurative art, must always contain this balance of naturalism and idealization.^[xlii]

At the beginning of the modernist period, churches continued to have an “ecclesiastical” form. However, the constructions showed an increasingly radical rupture as the twentieth century progressed. Churches were built with a secular motivation for not looking like churches at all; as Edward Sövik stated in 1973: «We should no longer build places specifically devoted to the cultic event, or structures which have what is thought of as ecclesiastical character; (…) We need to return to the non-church»^[xliii].

The philosophy and, even more, the theology behind this artistic movement was condemned by the Church as heretical.^[xliv] Nevertheless, even before Vatican II, in the later stages of the Liturgical Movement, and especially amongst some avant-garde authors, there was a tendency to experiment; even hiring architects who did not profess the Catholic faith like Le Corbusier «who made it very clear since the beginning that he was not a religious man»^[xlv]. But for some clerics, this was not a problem. Stroik mentions that for some priests, «it was better to have a talented atheist designing churches than to have a pious artist who was mediocre»^[xlvi].

For McNamara, there are many reasons to suggest that modernism is not at all an appropriate style for church construction: «Being rooted in socialist, rationalist, functionalist, and revolutionary beginnings, it often does not provide architectural vocabulary for the church building»^[xlvii]. As mentioned above, regardless of the architectural style used, some criteria must be taken into account for the construction of a church to be successful, beyond the latest architectural fashion. When there is a divorce between sacred architecture and theology, «the built form becomes the externalization of an individual’s emotional response rather than the built form of universal liturgical and theological ideas»^[xlviii]. Taking into account the need to reflect the raison d’être of the building, McNamara explains that the problem is not style or modernity itself, «but rather “un-liturgical-ness,” thing that either fail to reveal or reveal less clearly the nature of the liturgy»^[xlix].

A significant problem in many churches built in the last century is that there seems to be no distinction between a secular building and one consecrated to divine worship:

For some, Modernist architecture is seen as the embodiment of the Spirit of Vatican II (…) To others, these churches are seen as anti-traditional, symbolizing all that was wrong with the Second Vatican Council. Neither view seems to sufficiently consider the facts. To the student of architectural history, the architecture built by the Catholic Church during the past fifty years does not seem to be all that different from secular trends. In fact, rather than being the architecture called by the fathers of the Second Vatican Council, the embrace of Modernism by the Church was simply an adoption of contemporary architectural expression.^[l]

For Stroik, this style often implies an amnesia about the history of Catholic architecture and an aggressive progressivism that does not consider ecclesial documentation.^[li] Modernism has prioritized the functional and mechanical, over liturgical symbolism and the catechetical nature of churches. For example, the theatrical style of some modern churches is alien to the history of sacred architecture. It is more typical of entertainment venues^[lii], emphasizing an idea of immanence which, according to Ratzinger, is opposed to the Catholic liturgy^[liii].

The following chapter will briefly explain how the ideas presented here were applied in different ways in two churches in Costa Rica: the cathedral of Alajuela and the parish of Santa Cecilia in Heredia.

Chapter 2
The Cathedral of Alajuela and the Parish Church of Santa Cecilia in Heredia The Cathedral of Alajuela

The Cathedral of Alajuela originated in 1782 as a small oratory for the area’s inhabitants. According to information from the Historical Archive of the Diocesan Curia of Alajuela, shared by Father Sixto Eduardo Varela Santamaría, in 1854 the present building was begun. It was designed by the architect Franz Kurtze, who «designed the plans for the new parish of Alajuela, because the earthquake of 1851 had left the previous temple in bad condition. The building was finished in 1863, and its dome was built years later by the Italian architect Gustavo Casallini in the period 1878-1888»^[liv]. Sculptor Fadrique Gutiérrez, from Heredia, collaborated in the dome’s construction, and it has even been said that he was behind the design. Still, according to the architect Adrián Vásquez Campos, this information is inaccurate^[lv].

The architect Vázquez Campos has noted that the Cathedral has an eclectic style, that is, it brings together various architectural styles: a neoclassical and viceregal exterior, with an interior that was initially Rococo^[lvi]. The windows, for example, were inspired «by the work of the French painter Pier Mondreal, who gave rise to an architectural trend called Neoplasticism»^[lvii]. The Metropolitan Cathedral of Guatemala was the inspiration behind the current facade of the building (see Fig. 1), and its construction began after the original facade was affected by earthquakes in 1940. At the end of the nineteenth century the decision to build the dome, which is alien to the original structure of the cathedral, took place. The dome «was not finished until 1888»^[lviii]. Today, it is the tallest and largest dome in Costa Rica, and in its interior are the only vestiges of the rococo decoration that the whole building once had (see Fig. 14, and Fig. 16).

The building originally had four rows of columns that gave rise to four side aisles. It made the Cathedral of Alajuela unique in the country since no other church was so broad or had so many aisles (see Fig. 2, Fig. 3, and Fig. 4). The columns, of Ionic order, of which now only those that support the dome over the sanctuary remain, were of cedar; painted in imitation marble and with capitals painted green, giving the impression of a forest^[lix].

In 1921, Pope Benedict XV created the ecclesiastical province of Costa Rica and erected the Diocese of Alajuela. The Church of Alajuela, dedicated to San Juan Nepomuceno, became the cathedral of the new diocese. From that moment on, a stage of embellishment of the Cathedral began. The internal decoration of the building was the Rococo style, and there were many side altars. In the time of the first bishop, Bishop Antonio Monestel, the original altar of St. John Nepomucene, in the style of a sacramental tower with doubled-tired colonnade (see Fig. 5), was replaced by a new marble altar having an altarpiece framed by corinthian columns and topped with a rounded broken pediment, with niches in which images of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, St. John Nepomucene and the Virgin were placed (see Fig. 6). At this same historical period, the patronage was changed to that of Our Lady of the Pillar.

According to Vásquez Campos, from 1921 until the years before the beginning of the Second Vatican Council, there was a period of embellishment in the cathedral, while, on the contrary, from the episcopate of bishop Enrique Bolaños (even from his time as auxiliary bishop), a period of decay ensued with the loss of the building’s artistic treasures^[lx]. According to Father Rodolfo Murillo, between 1946 and 1967, under the episcopate of Bishop Juan Vicente Solís, the present façade and towers were built^[lxi]. However, after this addition, and under the episcopate of Bishop Bolaños, during the period when Father Virgilio Chavarría was parish priest between 1967 and 1983, the building was subjected to an intense remodelling «that erased absolutely all the artistic patrimony it possessed and of which today the only trace that remains is the dome»^[lxii].

Even before the Second Vatican Council, the marble altarpiece behind the altar was replaced by a simpler one. It featured Our Lady of the Pillar, within a simple arch flanked on either side by angels, and the mandatory crucifix above the Tabernacle (see Fig. 7). The idea for a more unadorned altar was a response to the ideas held by some theologians of the Liturgical Movement. During this era of liturgical reform, a free-standing altar was built in front of the original high altar

so that Mass could be celebrated facing the people (see Fig. 8). During the years that Father Virgilio Chavarría was pastor of the Cathedral, the altarpiece was eliminated altogether, leaving only the image of the Virgin of the Pillar in front of a central column behind the main altar (see Fig. 9). Father Chavarría eliminated the columns that divided the aisles from the central nave, leaving only those that supported the dome (see Fig. 10).

Vásquez Campos explains how the columns were removed from the base to the capital and he argues that the motivation behind this decision was functional: the columns were considered an obstacle to the visibility of the faithful towards the altar^[lxiii]. Lang explains that this frenzy of having to see every gesture the priest makes was never a criterion in the construction of liturgical buildings^[lxiv]. Father Sixto Varela reiterates that priority was given to functional needs that were part of new fashionable theological currents^[lxv], and this despite the texts of Sacrosanctum Concilium and Opera Artis, which both call for the preservation of architectural heritage. At this same time, it was decided to cover over the rococo decoration of the walls that, at one point, had embellished the entire cathedral with white paint and to eliminate the decoration of the vault, leaving only the decoration of the dome.

In the 1990 earthquake, the Cathedral’s roof collapsed due to the absence of columns. With this earthquake, the two remaining side altars were damaged, and there was no interest in rebuilding them. After five years of reconstruction, the cathedral reopened in 1995. The main altar, with the tabernacle, was moved to one side of the sanctuary. The sanctuary floor was covered with red carpets; the cathedra was placed in the center, surrounded by a long-cushioned seat for the concelebrants. The crucifix was placed on one side, and the Virgin of the Pillar on the other. This is contrary to what Stroik emphasises regarding the importance of the tabernacle, and indeed all of the liturgical furnishing in the sanctuary being in harmony with the altar and the rest of the church^[lxvi]. But such architectural harmony was lost after these big changes. This new minimalist approach which contrasts with the original architecture of the building, could even be called an iconoclastic tendency, and is corroborated through photographs from this date (see Fig. 11).

According to Vásquez Campos, during the time of Bishop Ángel SanCasimiro, Neocatechumenal Way communities offered to remodel the cathedral, and this had significant implications: the liturgical structure of its Masses were followed in the renovation of the sanctuary^[lxvii]. For example, the new altar was square, not in the traditional rectangular shape; the sanctuary was extended into the nave with the altar in the middle; the ambo was placed behind the altar, and choir stalls were built on either side of the cathedra for the concelebrants (see Fig. 12 and Fig. 13). A crucifix was placed centrally under the dome’s center, above the choir stalls, and statues of the Virgin of Pilar, St. John Nepomuk, and St. Joseph were placed within the framework of these choir stalls, imitating an altarpiece (see Fig. 14). For Father Sixto, the addition of wooden choir stalls and the recovery of some sacred imagery, helped improve the cathedral’s apse area. However, he believes that the altar’s dimensions and the ambo’s location are out of harmony with the cathedral as a whole^[lxviii]. According to Stroik, this harmony between the altar, tabernacle, sanctuary, and the rest of the church is essential to liturgical architecture^[lxix].

The Costa Rican painter Hernán Ramírez also painted several murals on some walls and in the vault. In 2022, termites destroyed the choir stalls, and an altarpiece of Pentecost painted by Kiko Argüello, leader of the Neocatechumenal Way, was temporarily placed behind the cathedra until a new retable was ready (see Fig 15).

The Parish Church of Santa Cecilia in Heredia

            The current Parish Church of Santa Cecilia in Heredia was built in the 1980s. It was initially conceived not as a small parish but rather as a chapel dependent on the Parish of Our Lady of the Angels in Heredia. According to the information provided by Father Pablo José Arias Soto, in these years, the Santa Cecilia neighborhood was part of an area devoted to coffee plantation; indeed, he emphasizes that when it was built, it was never intended as a parish but as a chapel for a small town in the middle of coffee plantations. Still, as the community grew, the area had solid urban development, and it became a parish in 1999^[lxx]. According to architect Vásquez Campos, the style is eclectic since it mixes diverse architectural traditions^[lxxi].

The temple does not have a traditional ecclesiastical orientation, with the apse in the east, but instead it is upside down: the apse to the west and atrium in the east. The building underwent a significant restructuring when Father Pablo Arias was parish priest (2016-2024). This priest comments that when he arrived at the parish, he found it had a chapel structure rather than the larger scale and structure of a parish church^[lxxii] (see Fig. 17 and Fig 18). The reaction of this priest confirms what Stroik mentions about the importance of the facade and exterior of a church to reveal its sacred character^[lxxiii]. The previous pastor determined that some money would be invested in constructing a parish hall and classrooms for catechesis on the adjacent land that had served as a parking lot. However, others realized that there was a functional convenience to continue having a parking lot, and yet Father Pablo wanted to prioritize the liturgy, so he was authorized to use that money to restructure the building^[lxxiv].

Among the first changes made were to place the tabernacle in the center of the apse, behind the altar; to put a crucifix in the center of the altar for the celebration of the Mass Versus Populum (a practice promoted by Benedict XVI); and to give greater prominence to the sacred images; even buying some new ones. Before the COVID-19 pandemic, Father Pablo had already planned to build a tower on the façade, with the image of Saint Cecilia in a niche under the bell tower (see Fig. 19, Fig. 20, and Fig. 22). With the original façade, the building often went unnoticed; one could not tell it was a parish. This contradicts what Rose mentions as the rule of verticality, regarding the principles for church architecture^[lxxv]. As Stroik affirms, «without a recognizable architectural language in which to converse, the building is left to react against or contrast with its surroundings […] It becomes a fragmentary building for a fragmented environment»^[lxxvi]. The architect of the Metropolitan Curia of the Archdiocese of San José, Mike Rojas, designed the tower without steps. Warner Nuñez was the second architect in the rebuilding process; he designed a spiral staircase to access the tower from inside the church. Having internal stairs helped Father Pablo realize the idea of making a loft for the choir was also possible since the choir used to sing on one side of the sanctuary down below^[lxxvii] (see Fig. 21).

When the choir loft was built, the old main door was left as a screen, giving way to a small narthex or portico (see Fig. 21). For Father Pablo, this was important since it marked a threshold between the church’s interior and the outside world. A baptistery was also built next to the church’s entrance, promoting this location’s theological significance^[lxxviii] (see Fig. 23). For Stroik, the location of the baptistery near the church entrance or even outside the church recalls «the ancient ritual and poignant symbolism of the catechumen being baptized outside of the church and apart from the assembly. In this way, baptism is seen as the Sacrament of Initiation necessary before entering the Church»^[lxxix].

After the construction of the tower and the choir loft, artists of the Guilá family, along with those working for the Artea Company, helped to obtain a donation to build a dome over the sanctuary (see Fig. 24, Fig. 25 and Fig. 26). Structural engineers collaborated in the construction of this dome and analysed whether the roof of the building could be sufficiently engineered to resist the weight of the new structure. After the dome’s construction, the sanctuary was enlarged by moving the apse backward and eliminating the arches that separated the side altars from one another. Father Pablo, with heartfelt emotion, mentions how natural light now enters through the dome’s windows and illuminates the sacred statues; creating an atmosphere of supernaturality and sacredness^[lxxx].

In the sanctuary an altar attached to the wall of the apse was built, with a marble baldachin over a golden tabernacle (see Fig. 27), and in front of it the original freestanding altar. A golden crucifix was fashioned and placed in the baldachin above the tabernacle. A wooden altarpiece was built over this altar, and the image of Saint Cecilia, patron saint of the parish, was placed within it (see Fig. 27). A local artist-parishioner, Mr. Antonio Guilá helped paint murals in the baptistery and in the chapel dedicated to Jesus carrying the Cross (see Fig. 28). A mural inspired by the Basilica of St. Cecilia in Trastevere, Rome, was also painted by Guilá on the church walls.

In December 2023, Father Pablo Arias was appointed pastor of another parish, effective January 2024. According to this priest, small details were still missing from the restoration work that he would like to have completed; such as installing holy water fonts at the church entrance or placing guardian angels next to the tabernacle with symbols of the martyrdom and virginity of St. Cecilia^[lxxxi]. Before Father left the parish, however, Archbishop of San José, José Rafael Quirós Quirós, and his Auxiliary Bishop, Daniel Francisco Blanco Méndez, consecrated the altar and dedicated the church (see Fig. 29). Relics of a martyr from a pre-conciliar altar in another church were placed on the new altar. For Father Pablo, this rite was the culmination of the renovation process carried out in the building and it summarizes what effectively happened: the dignification of the house of God^[lxxxii].

Comparative Analysis

            As already elucidated, both the Cathedral of Alajuela and the Parish Church of Santa Cecilia, underwent significant architectural changes in recent decades. However, the processes in each case were different: in the Cathedra, the artistic treasure of the building was lost^[lxxxiii], while in Santa Cecilia, its sacred character was embellished and emphasized. Behind both renovations lie different theological and liturgical positions that can be used as a means of interpretation: first, in the changes to the Cathedral of Alajuela, the frenzy of the 1970s can be seen as a manifestation of the hermeneutic of rupture; second, in the restructuring of Santa Cecilia, on the contrary, there was a desire to make evident the sacred character of the building, thereby incorporating the hermeneutic of continuity proposed by Benedict XVI.

The crux of this capstone thesis proposal was to analyse the reception of the Second Vatican Council from an architectural-theological perspective as it applies to these two Costa Rican churches. In the Cathedral of Alajuela, the images of the saints and the side altars were removed and yet Sacrosanctum Concilium explicitly encourages the use and preservation of sacred imagery in churches, and their due veneration, provided that their number does not become excessive.^[lxxxiv] Given this directive, it begs the question: Was it really necessary to remove the side altars, even though they were part of the structure of the building? Indeed, the 1971  circular letter, Opera Artis, addressing the care of churches’ historic and artistic heritage, invited just the opposite: the preservation of architectural treasure^[lxxxv]. Father Sixto Varela regrets that in the remodelling of many churches and the construction of new ones, in order to prioritize functional needs, aesthetic concerns, and the inclusion of architectural elements that help bring the faithful closer to God and to foster a better understanding of the liturgy, are often destroyed or completely forgotten^[lxxxvi]. A clear example of this is the removal of the columns and decoration in the Cathedral of Alajuela, including its altars and images of saints, as if they were mere distractions. McNamara notes that, since antiquity, columns have been compared to people; scripture mentions them repeatedly, and through church history they have been associated with the apostles, as a metaphor for the pillars in a spiritual temple^[lxxxvii].  For McNamara, the decoration of a church is not merely incidental but a kind of architectural poetry that helps to express sacred realities: «Ornament is an enrichment of a building in order to reveal a building’s use or purpose»^[lxxxviii]. In short, far from distracting the faithful, a church’s decoration helps the faithful to identify its sacredness.

According to Rose, modern liturgists and architects «claimed the spirit of Vatican II as their justification for the reformation of church architecture […] to legitimize the experimental church designs that the common people had consistently rejected»^[lxxxix]. On the contrary, «Vatican II called for preservation of our churches»^[xc], not for their destruction. This destruction is the fruit of an evident hermeneutic of rupture; of «subjective opinion rooted in current architectural theories and innovative liturgical ideas that had never been officially adopted by the Catholic Church»^[xci]. Father Varela agrees with these assertions that what has happened in so many churches, such as the Cathedral of Alajuela, is the result of a misinterpretation of the Second Vatican Council’s conciliar documents and those tied to post-conciliar liturgical reform^[xcii].

One of the justifications for removing the columns in the Cathedral, as abovementioned, was a lack of visibility to the altar. Watching and contemplating liturgical actions has value but as Lang has shown, «Christians in the ancient world and in the early Middle Ages would not have associated real participation in the liturgy with looking at the celebrant and his actions»^[xciii]. In many cases, the altar was even covered with curtains that prevented visibility, as was the case in Byzantine churches with the iconostasis^[xciv]. In the same sense Ratzinger, in The Spirit of the Liturgy invites us to remember that active participation also implies contemplative listening^[xcv]. Active participation should not be reduced to watching and listening to all the priest’s actions as if they were performing them for the people.

The High Altar in the Cathedral of Alajuela suffered several changes even before other significant alterations were made during the 1970s. The second altar, having a marble altarpiece with niches for sacred images, was replaced by a simpler one only with a statue of Our Lady of the Pillar. This decision to simplify followed the theories of some theologians from the later phases of the Liturgical Movement characterized by a growing interest in liturgy prior to St. Gregory the Great. Lang notes that «in his encyclical Mediator Dei, Pope Pius XII commends the study of the early liturgy, but he also warns of misguided ‘archaism’»^[xcvi]. Lang comments on how Ratzinger criticized this “archaism” in the way the liturgical reform was implemented, as it ignores theological developments after St. Gregory the Great: «Ratzinger’s perceptive analysis exposes the curious ambivalence of a liturgical purism that oscillates between a tendency towards archaism and an uncontrolled urge for novelty»^[xcvii]. Lang mentions how the medieval and baroque development of altars form part of the organic development of the liturgy^[xcviii]. Far from being a distraction, «such magnificent altars serve the purpose of the liturgy very well, that is to say, the praise and glory of God and the sacramental representation of his saving work for the faithful […]»^[xcix].

According to Stroik, the altar must be in harmony with the rest of the church, or rather, all the other elements of the church must be in harmony with the altar; which is the central place where the Sacrifice of Christ is actualized^[c]. The latest altar in the Cathedral of Alajuela, consecrated in 2010, is huge in its dimensions, and it is no longer in the center of the original sanctuary, but placed within a new extension to the sanctuary, towards the nave. The idea for this type of altar, sponsored by the Neocatechumenal Way communities, is to emphasize the theological notion of Eucharist as a banquet, rather than holy sacrifice. It is true that in the Catholic Mass, banquet and sacrifice are two elements that complement each other and form a unity, but for Lang «the emphasis on the meal aspect of the Eucharist […] has been overdone and has fallen short of the Eucharist as a visible sacrifice […] it should always be emphasised that these two aspects cannot be isolated from each other»^[ci].

The new location of the ambo in the Cathedral of Alajuela, between the altar and the cathedra, again emphasizes this theological stance in which there seems to be a contraposition between the sacramental Real Presence of the Eucharistic species, made present on the altar, and the presence of Christ in the Sacred Scriptures read at Mass^[cii]. Indeed, the Church venerates the Sacred Scriptures and recognizes in them the presence of God^[ciii]. However, Stroik rightly argues how the shift in the focal point, from the altar and tabernacle to the place where the liturgy of the Word is proclaimed is not proper to Catholic theology^[civ]. In Alajuela, the tabernacle has been moved from the apse, but the ambo occupies the central place in the sanctuary.

Stroik mentions that it is crucial for the tabernacle to be in a structural relationship with the altar, since it is there that the Sacrament, which is offered on the altar, is preserved for adoration^[cv]. Canon Law states that it «is to be situated in some part of the church or oratory which is distinguished, conspicuous, beautifully decorated, and suitable for prayer»^[cvi]. It is true that «a separate place of reservation of the Blessed Sacrament is allowed as traditional in cathedrals, shrines, and in many ancient churches in Rome»^[cvii]. However if the tabernacle is located in a side altar or other chapel, it should be of similar prominence to the altar, «because it is the location of the abiding presence of Christ»^[cviii].

For Stroik, «the sanctuary is a place set apart from the body of the church»^[cix], as requested by the General Instruction of the Roman Missal^[cx]. Its hierarchical distinction from the rest of the Church is a sign of the importance of the Sacrament that is actualized there^[cxi]; not an opposition between clergy and faithful. In the Cathedral of Alajuela, the sanctuary has been extended with the altar moved towards the nave. For his part, Stroik mentions that a threshold is essential to «emphasize the primacy of the sanctuary»^[cxii]. The same author maintains that this threshold between nave and sanctuary is fundamental in Christian tradition; as demonstrated by the Byzantine iconostasis or the communion rail in the West. For Stroik, the abrupt changes in ecclesiastical architecture reflect the struggle within the Church regarding the hermeneutics of Vatican II^[cxiii].

Beyond the “architectural theology” behind the changes in both buildings^[cxiv], an interest, or rather a lack of interest, in the architectural and artistic heritage is evident. For Father Sixto Varela, the leading cause of what happened to the Alajuela Cathedral is the absence of heritage and conservationist culture in Costa Rica^[cxv]; a reality that has gradually begun to change, especially among the younger generation who now wish to recover the treasure lost by older generations. For Vásquez Campos, the Alajuela Cathedral was one of the most beautiful churches in the country, unique in the width of its nave and distinguished by its rococo decoration^[cxvi]. A legitimate  question must be asked: Was this architectural heritage even considered when white paint was applied over the original decoration or when the columns and several altars were destroyed?

As an architect himself, Vásquez Campos insists on the importance of priests recognizing that they are not architects and that they need to consult with professionals before making decisions that affect the architectural ensemble^[cxvii]. Father Sixto agrees with him and reiterates that a priest, who is not an expert in architecture, cannot, on a personal whim, remove from a church what he does not like but must learn to respect the language of the building and consider the piety and sentiments of the faithful^[cxviii]. In this sense, Sacrosanctum Concilium advocated for institutes to be established in order to train artists so that their work will be imbued with the authentic spirit of the Catholic liturgy and that this training should also be given to the clergy^[cxix].

For Stroik, as he argues in The Church Building as a Sacred Place:

architects and patrons must regain a certain humility toward sacred works of the past. They should acknowledge that our sacred buildings are gifts from previous generations. Humility recognizes the quality of churches in all different styles, whether they are our personal favorites or not^[cxx].

Stroik goes a step further by stating that  «any renovations need to respect existing architecture of the church. Each building has qualities of spatial configuration, orientation, and architectural language that must be respected and maintained»^[cxxi]. McNamara is not disputing the fact that different styles have been mixed within a church, as is true of important churches in Rome, but he observes that in these buildings, the different styles are harmoniously united because they respect the rules of sacred architecture and the grammar of ecclesiastical architecture. The opposite occurs when styles are mixed without harmony, representing for this author, a crime against art that ends up affecting the experiential aspect of faith^[cxxii]. Disrespecting this structural harmony implies not only a loss, from an artistic point of view, but also impacts the faith of the faithful.

On the other hand, the Santa Cecilia de Heredia parish was designed as a small chapel, not a parish. Furthermore, in this building, before its restructuring by Father Pablo Arias at the architectural level, the functional took precedence over the catechetical. If one considers the three laws of Vitruvius, as reformulated by Rose^[cxxiii], Santa Cecilia began with no verticality and its iconography was scarce. The construction of a tower and dome brought verticality to the building and made it look more like a parish. Indeed, Stroik mentions that «the facade is the first image of the church that the worshiper sees, and it is therefore crucial for setting up the sense of the sacred within»^[cxxiv]. The facade of Santa Cecilia parish changed with the addition of a tower. From its exterior, even from a distance, it is now possible to clearly identify the building as a Catholic church, as Father Sixto observes: «in a secularized society in which they want to hide God, in which man seeks God and does not find Him, the Church needs to offer a solution by building churches that speak of God’s presence from their exterior»^[cxxv]. Stroik emphasises the importance of an architectural break between the secular world outside, and the sacred reality inside, the church⁷¹. The atrium or narthex, such as the one built at St. Cecilia’s parish, is the threshold that allows for this separation.

Similarly, the iconographic character of the church should be highlighted since we find an opposite inclination between both buildings. If, in Alajuela, the cathedral was once devoid of altars and images, and in the 1990s it seemed iconoclastic, the parish of Santa Cecilia was enriched with statues of saints and the construction of new altars and liturgical spaces such as the baptistery and the choir loft. One of the first changes that Father Pablo Arias implemented was to place the Tabernacle in a centralized position and to install various images which, far from distracting the faithful, instead foster their piety. McNamara indicates that the text of Sacrosanctum Concilium makes no iconoclastic suggestions^[cxxvi]. Indeed, the Council mentions that the number of images should not be excessive, nor should their veneration lead to confusion. Instead, they ought to occupy their proper place without taking over what is properly liturgical and without devotional spaces disappearing from sacred buildings^[cxxvii].  Stroik also mentions that

the nave is the body of the church in which the faithful gather, symbolizing our spiritual journey toward the beatific vision […] Because this journey is made possible by the sacraments, places for Baptism, Penance, and private devotion will be provided within or  adjacent to the nave^[cxxviii].

The sacred images in the lateral aisles also make sense for Stroik: «these images of devotion point us toward their liturgical consummation: Christ’s Eucharistic sacrifice exemplified in the altar and tabernacle»^[cxxix]. In this sense, devotional and sacramental images and elements in the nave are far from distractions. When they are in harmony with the church, they help better participation in the liturgy. Father Sixto Varela observes that everything that has been historically incorporated into the structure of a Catholic church is there to help the understanding of the faith: sacred statues do not distract, but help the faithful so that in case of a distraction during the liturgy their attention returns to the contemplation of the mysteries that these same saints lived^[cxxx].

From his pastoral experience, Father Sixto is able to comment that if a priest proposes to restore and preserve the architecture of a church, the faithful will appreciate this and are willing to collaborate because they feel that the church is theirs: «The faithful regret that a church does not look like a church or that it is neglected»^[cxxxi]. This attitude is evidenced by what happened in Santa Cecilia, where fruitful effects on the parishioners were not long in coming. Father Pablo Arias comments on how people were happy with the new look the church was acquiring and that they also developed an identity of belonging to the parish^[cxxxii]. The faithful also helped financially in the construction process, so they felt a sense of ownership of the parish. In addition, the process provided an opportunity to educate the faithful, through catechesis: about the importance of the liturgy; the meaning of what was being built; while, at the same time, fostering a better understanding for, and a promotion of devotional piety. In January 2024, when the altar was consecrated and the church dedicated, the people understood what was happening; thus it could be said that their participation was truly full, active, and conscious^[cxxxiii].

Conclusion

The main objective of this capstone thesis has been to analyze the effects on ecclesial architecture stemming from the two hermeneutics put forward by Pope Benedict XVI in 2005 and from which the Second Vatican Council is understood. The hermeneutic of continuity proposes fidelity to conciliar texts and interprets them as a development in continuity with the preceding magisterium. In ecclesiastical architecture, this is evident in churches that continue to look like churches. Although they incorporate new elements, or adopt contemporary styles, these architects have considered ecclesial tradition, the catechetical importance of the building, and the theology it represents. In contrast, the hermeneutic of rupture proposes going beyond the conciliar documents towards a “spirit” lacking clarity and which implies breaking with what has been established up to now. This hermeneutic is evident at the architectural level in the mutilations suffered by many churches in the years following the liturgical reform and the construction of new churches even before the Council.

In Chapter I, the fundamental notions of sacred architecture were presented, as well as the guidelines of the documents of the Second Vatican Council and those of the liturgical reform concerning the construction and renovation of churches. The historical-artistic context in which the Council’s guidelines began to be implemented has also been presented. From what has been presented in this Chapter, it has been concluded that the Second Vatican Council does not imply any break with the preceding ecclesial tradition and that, at the architectural level, it does not advocate iconoclasm or the destruction that took place in so many places. On the contrary, continuity is emphasized by preserving the artistic treasure of the churches, while accepting specific changes, always to foster the faith of the faithful and a better understanding of the liturgical celebration. Secondly, the historical-artistic context, marked by the avant-garde and the ideals of modernism, allows us to understand more clearly why the hermeneutic of rupture was successfully implemented in so many places; with a desire to break with what had been established up to that time, and prioritizing new architectural fashions or theological discussions over the catechesis and faith of the Catholic Church.

Chapter II sought to analyze what has been analyzed so far in two churches in Costa Rica, built at different times. In the Cathedral of Alajuela, the renovations carried out in the years surrounding the Council demonstrate hermeneutic of rupture and its effects not only in the field of faith, but also in sacred art and the historical and architectural heritage. Some of the people who collaborated in elaborating this project complained about the artistic loss and its effects on the piety of the faithful. On the other hand, the parish church of Santa Cecilia in Heredia was built in a context in which technical and functional aspects took precedence, making it difficult to recognize the building as a church from the outside, and lacking in verticality and iconography of its interior; both important aspects in Sacred Architecture. The renovation carried out under the guidance of Father Pablo Arias Soto provides evidence of the hermeneutic of continuity: a desire to live the renewal proposed by the Second Vatican Council in a way that makes explicit the beauty and noble simplicity of the Catholic faith. The parish renovation process has allowed the faithful to be catechized as the various structural changes were made to the building so that they can participate more fruitfully in the liturgy.

In short, my research to prepare this capstone thesis has made it possible to establish and then to empahsize the importance of sacred architecture for the celebration and experience of faith. It has been early argued that the relationship lex orandi – lex credendi is enriched and expressed with the lex aedificandi^[cxxxiv]. In this respect, it is understood that the way in which a church is built, or renovated, directly expresses the understanding of faith. It has also been shown in Sacrosanctum Concilium that the ecclesiastical magisterium calls for preserving the artistic beauty of existing churches and that the introduction of new styles should contribute to the growth of the faith of the faithful^[cxxxv]. However, the urgency of the artistic training of priests and seminarians and the need for them to work with architects who are also familiar with the principles of sacred architecture and the theology of the liturgy^[cxxxvi], as called for by the Council, is also evident.

As McNamara states, «a spirit of continuity requires knowing what we are continuing, since the Church never does violence to herself, only grows in clarity and knowledge»^[cxxxvii]. He believes that it is not a question of condemning the pre- and post-conciliar periods, but of understanding authentic growth and development (Ecclesia semper reformanda) in continuity and without rupture, even in the architectural aspect:

The challenge for both extremes is to center themselves around the Council properly understood, in union with the Holy See, and looking again for a liturgical understanding deeply rooted in the theology of the liturgy itself, understood not in opposition to the past or its fetishization, but as an organic, continuous growth revealed by the Spirit^[cxxxviii].

In conclusion, it is hoped that this capstone thesis will contribute to a better understanding of the liturgical reform in light of the Second Vatican Council, and its application to Sacred Architecture, so that the faithful can participate better in the liturgical celebration; even from aesthetical and structural points of view. This issue has been studied in this capstone thesis in particular through a comparative analysis of the architectural changes in two churches in Costa Rica, in which evidence for both the hermeneutic of continuity and the hermeneutic of rupture has been demonstrated.

^[i] Cf. BENEDICT XVI, Christmas greetings to the Roman Curia, 22 December 2005.

^[ii] BENEDICT XVI, Letter To the bishops on the occasion of the publication of the Apostolic Letter “Motu Proprio Data” Summorum Pontificum, 7 July 2007.

^[iii] D. MCNAMARA, Catholic Church Architecture and the Spirit of the Liturgy, Hillenbrand Books, Chicago / Mundelein 2009, p. 6.

^[iv] Cf. Ibid.

^[v] D. STROIK, The Church Building as a Sacred Place: Beauty, Transcendence, and the Eternal., Hillenbrand Books, Chicago / Mundelein 2012, p. 105.

^[vi] Cf. D. MCNAMARA, Catholic Church Architecture…

^[vii] D. STROIK, The Church Building…,p. 106.

^[viii]  Cf. U. M. LANG, Turning Towards the Lord. Orientation in Liturgical Prayer, Ignatius Press, San Francisco 2009.

^[ix]  D. STROIK, The Church Building…, p. 2.

^[x] Ibid., p. 130.

^[xi] Cf. M. ROSE, Ugly as Sin: why they changed our churches from sacred places to meeting spaces and how we can change them back again, Sophia Institute Press, Manchester 2001.

^[xii] D. STROIK, The Church Building…, p. 66-67.

^[xiii] Cf. D CLAYTON, The Way of Beauty, Angelico Press, Kettering 2015.

^[xiv] Cf. E. LEV, How Catholic Art Saved the Faith, Sophia Institute Press, Manchester 2018.

^[xv] Cf. D CLAYTON, The Way…

^[xvi] D. MCNAMARA, Catholic Church Architecture…, p. 2.

^[xvii] Ibid, p. 192.

^[xviii] Ibid., p. 7.

^[xix] Ibid., p. 9.

^[xx] Cf. J. RATZINGER, The Spirit of the Liturgy, Ignatius Press, San Francisco 2000, p. 131.

^[xxi] Cf. BENEDICT XVI, Christmas greetings…

^[xxii] St. JOHN XXIII, Address on the Solemn Opening of the Second Vatican Council.

^[xxiii] St. PAUL VI, Address during the last general meeting of the Second Vatican Council.

^[xxiv] CONC. VAT. II, Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 123.

^[xxv] Ibid., no. 124.

^[xxvi] SACRED CONGREGATION OF RITES, Instruction on Implementing the Constitution on Sacred Liturgy ”Inter Oecumenici”, no. 91. Emphasis added.

^[xxvii] Cf. Ibid., no. 92.

^[xxviii] Cf. Ibid. no. 93.

^[xxix] Cf. U. M. LANG, Turning Towards…

^[xxx] Cf. Gamber, Ratzinger, Lang, Boyer

^[xxxi] Cf. Stroik, McNamara, Rose

^[xxxii] D. MCNAMARA, Catholic Church Architecture…, p. 189.

^[xxxiii] D. STROIK, The Church Building…, p. 20.

^[xxxiv] D. MCNAMARA, Catholic Church Architecture…, p. 160.

^[xxxv] Ibid, p. 169.

^[xxxvi] E. J. WALFORD, Great Themes in Art, Prentice-Hall, Inc., New Jersey 2002, p. 440.

^[xxxvii] Ibid.

^[xxxviii] Cf. Ibid.

^[xxxix] Ibid., pp. 440-441.

^[xl] Ibid, p. 442.

^[xli] D. CLAYTON, The Way…, p. 178.

^[xlii]Ibid.

^[xliii] E. A. SÖVIK, Architecture for Worship, Augsburg Publishing, Minneapolis 1973, pp. 7, 39.

^[xliv] Cf. St. PIUS X, Pascendi Dominici Gregis; SACRED CONGREGATION OF THE HOLY OFFICE, Lamentabili sane exitu.

^[xlv] D. STROIK, The Church Building..., p. 71.

^[xlvi] Ibid, p. 72.

^[xlvii] D. MCNAMARA, Catholic Church Architecture…, p. 197.

^[xlviii]Ibid, p. 175

^[xlix] Ibid, 192.

^[l] D. STROIK, The Church Building..., p. 19.

^[li] Cf. Ibid.

^[lii] Cf. Ibid.

^[liii] Cf. J. RATZINGER, The Spirit…

^[liv] SISTEMA NACIONAL DE BIBLIOTECAS DE COSTA RICA, “Kurtze Grunbau, Franz”, en Diccionario Biográfico, s.f., https://sinabi.go.cr/DiccionarioBiograficoDetail/biografia/377 [March 6, 2024] Own translation.

^[lv] Cf. Interview with the architect Adrián Vásquez Campos.

^[lvi] Cf. Ibid.

^[lvii] M. CARTÍN, “Catedral de Nuestra Señora del Pilar, Alajuela”, en Mi Costa Rica de Antaño, 2020. https://micostaricadeantano.com/2020/03/04/catedral-de-nuestra-senora-del-pilar-alajuela/ [February 10, 2024]. Own translation.

^[lviii] J. R. MURILLO SALAS, Diócesis de Alajuela en tus Bodas de Diamante. 75 años de Evangelización, Diócesis de Alajuela, Alajuela 1996. N. 21. Own translation.

^[lix] Cf. Interview with the architect…

^[lx] Cf. Ibid.

^[lxi] Cf. J. R. MURILLO SALAS, Diócesis de Alajuela…

^[lxii] M. CARTÍN, “Catedral de Nuestra Señora…”

^[lxiii] Cf. Interview with the architect…

^[lxiv] Cf. U. M. LANG, Turning Towards…

^[lxv] Cf. Interview with Fr. Sixto Eduardo Varela Santamaría.

^[lxvi] Cf. D. STROIK, The Church Building…

^[lxvii] Cf. Interview with the architect…

^[lxviii] Cf. Interview with Fr. Sixto…

^[lxix] Cf. D. STROIK, The Church Building…

^[lxx] Cf. Interview with Fr. Pablo José Arias Soto.

^[lxxi] Cf. Interview with the architect…

^[lxxii] Cf. Interview with Fr. Pablo…

^[lxxiii] Cf. D. STROIK, The Church Building…

^[lxxiv] Cf. Interview with Fr. Pablo…

^[lxxv] Cf.M. ROSE, Ugly as Sin…,

^[lxxvi] D. STROIK, The Church Building…, p. 77.

^[lxxvii] Cf. Interview with Fr. Pablo…

^[lxxviii] Cf. Ibid.

^[lxxix] D. STROIK, The Church Building…, p. 87.

^[lxxx] Cf. Interview with Fr. Pablo…

^[lxxxi] Cf. Ibid.

^[lxxxii] Cf. Ibid.

^[lxxxiii] Cf. M. CARTÍN, “Catedral de Nuestra Señora…”

^[lxxxiv] Cf. CONC. VAT. II, Sacrosanctum Concilium

^[lxxxv] Cf. CONGREGATION FOR THE CLERGY, Circular Letter on the Care of the Church’s Historical and Artistic Heritage “Opera Artis”.

^[lxxxvi] Cf. Interview with Fr. Sixto…

^[lxxxvii] Cf. D. MCNAMARA, Catholic Church Architecture…

^[lxxxviii] D. MCNAMARA, Catholic Church Architecture…, p. 107.

^[lxxxix] M. ROSE, Ugly as Sin…, p. 137.

^[xc] Ibid., p. 142.

^[xci] Ibid.

^[xcii] Cf. Interview with Fr. Sixto…

^[xciii] U. M. LANG, Turning Towards…, p. 91.

^[xciv] Cf. Ibid.

^[xcv] Cf. J. RATZINGER, The Spirit of the Liturgy…

^[xcvi] U. M. LANG, Turning Towards…, p. 95.

^[xcvii] Ibid., p. 102.

^[xcviii] Cf. Ibid.

^[xcix] Ibid., p. 137.

^[c] Cf. D. STROIK, The Church Building…

^[ci] U. M. LANG, Turning Towards…, p. 128.

^[cii] Cf. D. STROIK, The Church Building…

^[ciii] Cf. CONC. VAT. II, Sacrosanctum Concilium.

^[civ] Cf. D. STROIK, The Church Building…

^[cv] Cf. Ibid.

^[cvi] Code of Canon Law, Can. 938 §2.

^[cvii] D. STROIK, The Church Building…, p. 27.

^[cviii] Ibid. p. 26.

^[cix] Ibid., p. 23.

^[cx] Cf. CONGREGATION FOR DIVINE WORSHIP AND THE DISCIPLINE OF THE SACRAMENTS, General Instruction of the Roman Missal, n. 295.

^[cxi] Cf. D. STROIK, The Church Building…

^[cxii] Ibid., p. 27.

^[cxiii] Cf. Ibid.

^[cxiv] Cf. M. ROSE, Ugly as Sin…

^[cxv] Cf. Interview with Fr. Sixto…

^[cxvi] Cf. Interview with the architect…

^[cxvii] Cf. Ibid.

^[cxviii] Cf. Interview with Fr. Sixto…

^[cxix] Cf. CONC. VAT. II, Sacrosanctum Concilium.

^[cxx] D. STROIK, The Church Building…, p. 97.

^[cxxi] Ibid.

^[cxxii] Cf. D. MCNAMARA, Catholic Church Architecture…

^[cxxiii] Cf. M. ROSE, Ugly as Sin…

^[cxxiv] D. STROIK, The Church Building…, p. 30.

^[cxxv] Interview with Fr. Sixto… Own translation.

^[cxxvi] Cf. D. MCNAMARA, Catholic Church Architecture…

^[cxxvii] Cf. Ibid.

^[cxxviii] D. STROIK, The Church Building…, p. 27.

^[cxxix] Ibid.

^[cxxx] Cf. Interview with Fr. Sixto…

^[cxxxi] Ibid. Own translation.

^[cxxxii] Cf. Interview with Fr. Pablo…

^[cxxxiii] Cf. CONC. VAT. II, Sacrosanctum Concilium.

^[cxxxiv] Cf. D. MCNAMARA, Catholic Church Architecture…

^[cxxxv] Cf. CONC. VAT. II, Sacrosanctum Concilium.

^[cxxxvi] Cf. Ibid.

^[cxxxvii] D. MCNAMARA, Catholic Church Architecture…, p. 184

^[cxxxviii] Ibid.