The Church and Community Center of the Most Holy Redeemer in Las Chumberas, Tenerife, designed by Fernando Menis, has been named World Building 2025 at the World Architecture Festival. The church's design intentionally resembles fractured volcanic boulders, integrating with the island's landscape. The complex features four monumental volumes carved from rough concrete, creating fissures for natural light. The project developed over nearly two decades, with the social center completed in 2008 and the main church in 2022, supported by local donations.
24 days ago
The Church and Community Center of the Most Holy Redeemer in Las Chumberas, Tenerife, Spain, has been named World Building 2025 at the World Architecture Festival, earning the title of best building in the world.1
This accolade, announced on November 21, 2025, highlights the project among global designs, including Bhutan's Gelephu airport and Austria's Fractal Chapel.1
Architect Fernando Menis' design stands out for its bold integration of local landscape and unconventional church aesthetics.1
The structure resembles fractured volcanic boulders emerging from the ground, crafted from rough concrete to echo Tenerife's geology.1
Narrow fissures between four monumental volumes allow light to flood the interior, creating a luminous, cave-like space that feels raw yet contemplative.1
Inside, angled light shafts shift with the day, enhancing acoustics for liturgy and concerts, while a cross-shaped fracture at the altar symbolizes spiritual light and transition from death to life.1
Conceived nearly two decades ago, the project evolved organically through community donations rather than large funding.1
The social center opened in 2008 as a family anchor, followed by the main church in 2022 and the surrounding plaza in 2024.1
This phased approach fostered a natural blend of sacred and civic spaces, turning the site into a vibrant public square.1
Menis employed "low-tech" solutions, using local volcanic aggregate for concrete to ensure durability in the warm climate.1
Passive cooling and textured walls provide energy-efficient operation without intensive systems.1
The design draws from theological texts, emphasizing light's liturgical role while prioritizing environmental harmony with the island's terrain.1
In the once-declining Las Chumberas neighborhood of San Cristóbal de La Laguna, the complex has sparked renewal.1
It now hosts catechesis, civic initiatives, and daily gatherings, fostering a renewed sense of belonging among residents.1
Visitors and locals describe an emotional shift from urban density to serene contemplation, bridging liturgy with everyday life.1
The award underscores architecture's power to transform humble spaces through humility and land attunement, amid an era of high-tech designs.1
Beyond aesthetics, it symbolizes resilience in overlooked communities, proving modest projects can achieve global acclaim and local revival.1
How does contemporary Catholic architecture reflect theological renewal?
Contemporary Catholic architecture serves as a tangible expression of the Church's theological renewal, particularly as articulated in the Second Vatican Council's call for a balanced reform that honors both the immutable truths of faith and the adaptable elements of worship. This renewal, rooted in the principles of Sacrosanctum Concilium, emphasizes continuity with tradition while opening to legitimate progress, allowing church designs to foster active participation in the liturgy and evoke the intersection of earthly time with eternal mystery. By integrating historical reverence with modern sensibilities, such architecture reflects a deeper understanding of the liturgy as a bridge between the divine and human, countering secular fragmentation and inviting believers into a sacred encounter that enlarges the soul.
The Second Vatican Council marked a pivotal moment in Catholic theology, urging a restoration of the liturgy that draws from the Church's ancient sources while addressing contemporary needs. Sacrosanctum Concilium (SC) articulates this in its general principles for reform, insisting that any changes must arise from theological, historical, and pastoral investigation, ensuring innovations "grow organically from forms already existing." This hermeneutic of reform—renewal in continuity—avoids rupture, preserving the liturgy's core as an encounter with Christ's eternal sacrifice while adapting elements that have become "unsuited" over time. Theological renewal here is not a break from tradition but an interior deepening, where the Church, like the scribe in Matthew 13:52, brings forth "things both old and new."
In architecture, this translates to designs that honor the Church's treasury of sacred art across eras without privileging one style. SC explicitly states that the Church "has not adopted any particular style of art as her very own," welcoming contributions from every period and race, provided they adorn sacred buildings with "due reverence and honor." Post-conciliar architecture, therefore, reflects this by blending patristic and medieval inspirations—such as the vertical thrust of Gothic spires symbolizing ascent to heaven—with modern forms that prioritize communal participation, like open naves facilitating the assembly's active role. Pope John XXIII echoed this in his 1962 address to young architects, urging them to renew the Church by contemplating historical monuments and infusing designs with Scripture, liturgy, and prayer, creating spaces that adapt to modern life while inclining souls toward moral and fraternal ends.
A key theological insight renewed by Vatican II is the liturgy's role in entering "liturgical time," where human chronology meets divine eternity. As theologian Roch Kereszty observes, entering a Romanesque or Gothic cathedral—or even Le Corbusier's modernist Notre-Dame du Haut—evokes a "world whose dimensions enlarge and elevate our mind and heart," transcending secular confines. Contemporary Catholic architecture embodies this by designing spaces that are not mere functional buildings but portals to the sacred, countering the post-conciliar risk of reducing worship to imagination alone.
For instance, many post-Vatican II churches emphasize light, space, and orientation toward the altar to symbolize the Paschal mystery, drawing from SC's directive for structures "suitable for the celebration of liturgical services and for the active participation of the faithful." Theologian Joseph Ratzinger (later Benedict XVI) warns against self-generated cults that turn liturgy into "a circle closed in on itself," advocating instead for art "ordered to divine worship" that integrates cosmic, historical, and eschatological dimensions. Modern examples, like Richard Meier's Crystal Cathedral (now Christ Cathedral) or the minimalist chapels of Tadao Ando, use glass and natural elements to evoke transparency to grace, reflecting theological renewal's emphasis on the Church as a pilgrim people journeying toward eschatological fulfillment. These designs avoid "banal self-gratification" by rooting innovation in tradition, ensuring architecture serves the liturgy's objective reality rather than subjective preferences.
Yet, contemporary Catholic architecture has faced controversies, mirroring broader debates on interpreting Vatican II. Some post-conciliar designs, influenced by a "hermeneutic of rupture," prioritized functionality over sacred beauty, leading to structures that Uwe Michael Lang critiques as embodying a "rejection of the beautiful" in favor of the ugly as "true." SC counters this by calling ordinaries to promote "noble beauty rather than mere sumptuous display" and to remove works "repugnant to faith, morals, and Christian piety." Theological renewal demands vigilance: architecture must retrieve overlooked patristic sources—such as the early Church's emphasis on the baptistery and tabernacle—while adapting to regional customs, as empowered by episcopal conferences.
Pope John Paul II, in his Letter to Artists, affirmed this by praising architects who respond to "the exigencies of Christian worship" amid urban growth and post-war reconstruction, creating churches that are both prayerful spaces and artistic masterpieces. In regions like Europe and North America, this has yielded hybrids: basilica-inspired forms with sustainable materials, reflecting Gaudium et Spes' call to engage modern culture without discontinuity. However, as Ratzinger notes, true renewal avoids "drawing God down into one's own world," instead ascending to Him through designs that foster communal encounter and sacramental realism.
SC's directives on sacred furnishings further illustrate how architecture reflects renewal. Canons governing altars, tabernacles, baptisteries, and images must align with the reformed liturgy, retaining helpful traditions or introducing them where absent, always with episcopal adaptation to local needs. This organic approach—echoing Bugnini's distinction between liturgy's "invisible, unchanging" divine core and its "visible, changeable" human expressions—ensures architecture evolves without fabrication. Contemporary examples include altar placements that emphasize the assembly's unity, or iconographic programs blending Eastern and Western motifs to promote ecumenical dialogue, embodying the Council's vision of the Church as a universal sacrament.
In summary, contemporary Catholic architecture reflects theological renewal by embodying Vatican II's synthesis of tradition and progress: spaces that invite participatory worship, evoke eternal mystery, and cultivate beauty in service to faith. While challenges like aesthetic minimalism persist, faithful designs—grounded in SC's principles and papal exhortations—continue to draw believers into the nova et vetera of the Church's living tradition, fostering a renewal that is both interior and visible.