A Holy Ghost hole in Saints Peter and Paul parish church in Söll, Austria
A curious architectural feature of some churches in France, southern Germany, and Austria is the Holy Ghost Hole, an opening in the ceiling into which different objects were once thrown during the celebration of the Mass. It is speculated that the art surrounding the hole indicates its original function. If the theme is the Holy Spirit, then the use of the Holy Ghost Hole was limited to Pentecost, but if the theme was more generic (such as the Eye of Providence featured below), it was used at other times of the year. The Holy Ghost Hole was an invention of the Middle Ages but it persisted into the Baroque era, at least as a façade, and in some churches, it could be disguised as a sound-hole for the organ.
Church of St. Michael, Ziegelbach, Germany
Annunciation
The Holy Ghost Hole was useful on at least three holy days. On the Annunciation (March 25), churches in western Germany that had one would lower a boy dressed as Saint Gabriel it to address another young actor playing Mary below. As the children in the congregation looked up in awe, their mothers would surreptitiously place cookies or candy on the pew benches, allowing them to believe that Gabriel’s heavenly companions put them there. [Francis X. Weiser, S.J., Handbook of Christian Feasts and Customs (Harcourt, Brace, and Company, 1958), 303.]
Ascension Thursday
Second, on the Ascension, some churches hoisted a statue of Jesus Christ up into the hole with a pulley after the Gospel was read. The first recorded instance of this custom is marked with tragedy: in 1433, the Provost of the Augustinian Canons’ Monastery in Bernried, Germany, was killed by a falling figure of Christ after the rope broke. Today the custom continues in two parishes in the Freising district of Germany.
One custom that did not survive is the sequel to the Ascension of the Christ statue. Inspired by the Book of Revelation’s description of the fall of the dragon from Heaven, some churches threw one or more straw effigies of the devil out of the Holy Ghost Hole. Apparently, this addition caused quite a stir, as spirited adolescents would drag the effigy through the streets before burning it. Tired of all the commotion, the clergy eventually suppressed the practice around the eighteenth century.
Kapelle Schanz in Ebbs, Austria
Pentecost
But the main use of the Holy Ghost Hole was on Pentecost. During the chanting of the sequence Veni Sancte Spiritus, communities came up with creative ways to mimic the descent of the gifts of the Holy Spirit upon the first disciples. The eminent scholar of feasts and customs Fr. Francis X. Weiser, SJ writes:
In some towns of central Europe people even went so far as to drop pieces of burning wick or straw from the Holy Ghost Hole, to represent the flaming tongues of Pentecost. This practice, however, was eventually stopped because it tended to put the people on fire externally, instead of internally as the Holy Spirit had done at Jerusalem. [ibid. 252]
France had a safer if not cleaner solution. In the thirteenth century, several cathedrals released real white pigeons that flew around inside while roses were dropped from the Holy Ghost Hole. The records do not show how the pigeons were collected afterwards, or who had to clean up the birds’ own contributions to the floor and pews.
Another option was lowering a blue disc the size of a wagon wheel with the figure of a white dove painted on it. The disc would swing in ever-widening circles as it descended. Some places even provided sound effects, imitating the noise made by the Holy Spirit’s appearance in the Upper Room with trumpets, windbags, hissing, humming, and rattling benches. It too was followed by a shower of rose petals.
Rose petals, in fact appear to have been the most popular (and reasonable) practice. The most famous example of this custom today is at the Basilica of St. Mary and the Martyrs in Rome, better known as the Pantheon. Volunteers from the local fire department scale the roof of the ancient temple and throw thousands of petals through the oculus, the opening in the center of the dome. Although the oculus predates the Holy Ghost Hole by a millennium, it serves the same function.
Gaming Parish Church
We conclude with a more modest example, the Pfarrkirche Gaming or Gaming Parish Church, in the tiny town of Gaming, Austria, (not to be confused with the magnificent medieval Karthause (former Carthusian monastery) less than a mile away.)
Exterior of the Gaming parish church
The small Baroque church serves the town’s 3,200 residents. Its simple exterior belies its ornate interior, which includes statues completely plated in gold, and an elaborate pulpit made of marble and wood. The church also has an organ that legend says a young Mozart once played.
The church organ
Interior of the Gaming Parish Church
More to the point, the small church boasts of two Holy Ghost Holes. The first, in the nave, is covered with the eye-and-pyramid image betokening the Providence of God, similar to that found on the back of every U.S. dollar bill.
The first Holy Ghost Hole over the nave in the Gaming Parish Church
That same pyramid crowns the reredos of the high altar in the sanctuary. As the eyes ascends beyond it, one comes to the second Holy Ghost Hole, which is covered with an image of a dove.
The second Holy Ghost Hole over the sanctuary in the Gaming Parish Church
No petals, fireballs, devils, or angelically-clad children came out of these two holes in the old days, nor did statues of Our Lord pass up through them. They are Baroque organ-holes masquerading as the real thing. Nevertheless, like their more authentic counterparts, they are both a marvelous testimony to the dramatic flair of our ancestors and a permanent reminder to the worshipper that the Holy Spirit stands ready to descend into our hearts every day of the year and not just on special occasions.
