My first reaction upon seeing pictures of Oakland's new Cathedral of Christ the Light was, "Ew." Fortunately, Catholic blogger and architect the Vitruvian Duck has a more thoughtful response, explaining what it is that Church architecture should do -- and why this particular cathedral fails to do it:

Of her hometown Oakland, Gertrude Stein famously noted that "There is no there there." But of modern society we can say 'there is no prayer there'. Men and women bustle about downtown skyscrapers, office workers drone on in the vast oceans of concrete found in office parks across the country. Rarely, if ever, do they hear the ringing of the bells marking the liturgy of the hours. Rare is the visual reminder that they are called to higher things as they drive past a church, and when we build churches like the new Cathedral of Christ the Light, we are accentuating the problem. Our churches are not inviting people into them. Most of the time, people don't even know what that building is, and what it's for. 'Is it a dentist's office?' 'Is it a museum?' 'Is it a hospital?' 'Oh, THAT'S A CHURCH?!?!?! I never would have guessed!' . . .

[N]ow, with increased secularism, it is even all the more important for our churches to call attention to themselves to those that pass by. If nothing else, maybe those passers-by will wonder why so much effort was spent in building a beautiful House of God. Maybe they'll stop in, curiously, and find more beauty. And then our city on a hill, our lamp on a lampstand will bring prayer there.

I wish I could have seen it at night--we were there at 10 in the morning--because apparently it lights up like a lightbulb. The reality is no one, absolutely no one, is anywhere near that part of Oakland at night. It won't be able to succeed in inviting people in because there's no one there to see the invitation. And in the daytime, when people are there, it fades away into the same blah urban landscape with all the other glass and aluminum buildings (some also done by the same architectural office). So it's ugly or at best unnoticeable on the exterior. So what? The interior is inspiring, right?

. . . In fact, during the 2 hours or so we were exploring the Cathedral, I didn't see a single person in prayer. Not so surprising. I don't feel compelled to pray at office buildings, either.

It explains why the vastly different LA cathedral also fails, and why the juxtaposition of St. Patrick's against the New York City skyline is so intriguing. It's not about making all churches everywhere an exact replica of St. Peter's in miniature, but giving passersby outside some hint of the transcendence that takes place on the inside.