Recall the first time you visited Covenant. Driving into Covenant’s entrance, you pass by well-manicured lawns and flower-filled gardens as the main building rises into view. Beginning with its prominent tower and closely followed by the tudor style ornamentations that frame the rest of the stately building, the structure is breathtaking, and the buildings around it—the Probasco visitor center and the Brock educational building—reflect the design. Overlooking the Chattanooga valley, the scene that surrounds the main lawn creates an idyllic picture that truly earns Covenant the nickname, “The Castle in the Clouds.”
As you stroll across Carter lawn and through the grove of trees, you expect that the campus will continue this whimsical theme. Yet, to your utter horror, a twisted stone mass rises from the ground, dominating your view and looming over your teenage self like a menacing specter. At this ghastly sight, you flee the campus, returning as a student only due to the large financial aid package you receive and the ice cream machine that happened to be working the day you visited.
While this story is obviously exaggerated, Covenant’s chapel is a sight displeasing to the eyes, in my opinion. The towering, dark exterior with its unorthodox shape, squat windows and miniscule entryway lacks the inviting charm cultivated throughout the rest of campus. While the interior is a place of light and worship, the chapel’s exterior is grim and foreboding. A product of a strange sort of stone-obsessed brutalism, the chapel may have been trendy fifty years ago, but now, it’s just plain ugly.
Even the chapel itself seems aware of its flaws and is beginning the process of self-demolition. Slowly but surely, the chapel is inching its way down Lookout Mountain, one millimeter at a time. As rumors circulate about possible reconstruction efforts, students at Covenant need to be ready to fight for a design not rooted in current architectural trends. If a building committee is formed, we must hold those in it to a higher standard, petitioning for a building that reflects the beauty cultivated throughout the rest of Covenant’s campus.
While this response to the situation may seem coldhearted, I understand the nostalgic allegiance which many pledge to this building, and admittedly, their patriotism is not totally unmerited. The two panels of stained glass that face across from each other are beautiful, and many memories and traditions have been made in the chapel.
However, I believe these memories can be better enjoyed in a new, tastefully designed building. The Lord can still be praised in a building that does not have outdated, impractical seating, a leaky roof and windows in all the wrong places. Concerts could be held in an area where an orchestra and choir would actually fit on the stage. Theatrical productions would work even better in a space with a backstage larger than a two-man in Carter.
This is why I’m thankful for the inevitable demise of the chapel. As the building continues its gradual march down the mountain, I hope those involved in the decision making process will make a wise choice, selecting a design that is tasteful and on theme, earning the new structure the title, “The Chapel in the Clouds.”