San Bartolome Church - Seeking to Restore its Glory

The SAN BARTOLOME CHURCH - circa 1910 (photo from Arch. Richard Bautista):

SAN BARTOLOME CHURCH - circa Pre-war     (photo from Old Philippines):

SAN BARTOLOME CHURCH today:

If there was one structure from the Malabon of old that never failed to take my breath away, it used to be the SAN BARTOLOME CHURCH in Bayan, in the heart of town.

The church was first built by the Spaniards in 1621 and finished in 1854.  In 1861 the facade and its twin towers were constructed.  The architecture of San Bartolome Church was simple and elegant but imposing.  With its portico of Ionic columns reminiscent of a Greek temple, it was said to be "one of the most beautiful examples of ecclesiastical architecture that Spain has left the country." 1/

My husband, whose family lived in the area, remembers the church with its thick adobe walls in the 1950s.  Around the 60s, the adobe walls were plastered with cement and painted a uniform color.  The interior was mostly untouched, though, keeping its simple and dignified design with a few flourishes from the era.  This was the church I became familiar with when I began studying at St. James Academy next-door up to the time when we lived in my husband's family home in Barangay Tanong from 1983 to 1991.

In the years that followed after we left Bayan, I had been hearing a lot about the renovations being undertaken in San Bartolome church, but I never paid much attention.

Well, today I decided to see for myself.

The sight of the familiar facade was comforting; the fake adobe drawings on the walls were not.  Uh-oh, I said to myself.  This is not very reassuring.

I stepped inside.  I should have braced myself.  I thought I had entered a different church.

Countless paintings and fluorishes have been added on walls, ceilings and arches where there used to be none. The traditional pulpit on the right side when you are facing the altar is no longer there.  So with the crystal chandeliers of old; in their place are wrought iron lighting fixtures.  Gold leaf touches and trimmings abound at every opportunity.

The walls that were previously being restored to bring out the original adobe have been plastered instead and fake adobe lines painted on them.

The original four evangelists paintings on the dome ceiling are no longer there;  more vividly painted versions have taken their place.  Even the dome architecture itself appears to have been  changed.

So much has been re-done, removed, added, plastered, varnished, wallpapered, painted and repainted.  Having known the church in its original state - simple and dignified - it now felt like a sensory overload, like it had become too dazzling and too opulent, when San Bartolome Church had never been that. I thought, "Are we in Rome or the Vatican?" and quickly realized that this was not a restoration I had just seen; this was an alteration - an extreme make-over, even.

And the alterations are still on-going, obviously, because the ceiling is still open and refinishing touches are still being done.

I don't recognize you anymore, my dear San Bartolome Church, I said to myself. What is left of you now, what vestiges of your centuries-old existence are left to tell us that you were once this serene and dignified sanctuary we knew and loved? 

It felt like a part of me had been rudely snatched away.  Dejected, I started to walk out and was consoled to find three things yet untouched --

The statue of San Bartolome on the main altar (at least I think it's still the original one):

The machuca tiles on the main aisle:

and the tombstones on the church columns:

But for how long?


As you enter the church, you will find the following sign on your left, which I didn't notice at once because I was drawn to the altar when I first entered:

I couldn't help asking myself, how do you define "glory," anyway?  And how do you really restore it?

Certainly not by making something shiny and new and masking it with a gaudy veneer, but by reconstructing or rehabilitating it as faithfully as possible to the original.  Old churches, especially, provide a valuable linkage into our own history as a people of faith.  We should value and preserve them; to alter them is to deny future generations a precious legacy: a faithful glimpse into the past and an opportunity to be proud of ourselves as a people.

The renovation of San Bartolome Church has sought to restore its "glory."

And it has succeeded --  in a way that makes me profoundly sad for future generations...

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1/   en.wikipilipinas.org

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