How long before Vienna's cathedral is turned into a night club?

Churches for sale 

Thousands of churches, hardly any believers. What to do with the empty space? Shopping centre? Bowling alley? In other countries, people are less squeamish.

The queue in front of St. Stephen's Cathedral is long. Everyone wants to get past the doorman. When the gate opens, beats spill out onto the forecourt. The sacred halls of the cathedral have become the centre of club culture. Since the faithful have stayed away, the young people have come. Thousands party every night. 

The scene is fictitious. 

Or is it?   See the "Long Night of Churches"  - the Cathedral has already been turned into a night club by the Church.  The causes of secularisation are not just outside the Church, they come from within.

But in many countries it has long since become reality. Churches have become shopping centres, hotels, climbing gyms, kindergartens - and clubs. The reason is simple: the places of worship are hardly visited. Maintaining them costs millions.  

Also in Austria. Behind the 8,000 Roman Catholic churches stands a beleaguered institution. They are running out of believers. In 2022 alone, 91,000 people turned their backs on it. Every year, the number of members shrinks by about two percent. This has not only spiritual consequences.

It is also a financial problem. The Catholic Church generates 75 percent of its income through the contributions of its members. This is also used to renovate ailing churches. This cost 39 million euros in 2021. 

Churches are not profitable buildings. They do not bring in money. They cost money. With over one million members, the Archdiocese of Vienna is the largest in the country. It manages around 250 churches. "The costs for maintenance vary according to size and structural condition," says Michael Prüller, press spokesman for the Archdiocese of Vienna. In the case of St. Stephen's Cathedral, they amount to two million euros per year. There, renovation is a permanent process and will never end.

The now largely completed renovation of the Votivkirche - which took more than 20 years - cost 30 million euros. "One third is financed by the diocese, one third by the parish and one third by private and public donors," says Prüller. "In total, the building and renovation volume in Vienna is around 25 million euros per year." Expensive fun for houses that are hardly used.

Boxing ring, car show, bicycle parking station

In the Netherlands, the church has long since stopped wanting to pay for this. "About 80 percent of the population no longer feel any attachment to the Christian church," says Hanneke Masselink-Duits of The Missing Link, a company that accompanies revitalisations of empty churches. 

By 2030, that will be about a third of all Dutch churches. The Ministry of Education, Culture and Science has developed a nationwide strategy ("kerkenvisies"). "The initiative offers support to congregations in developing new concepts of use. As an independent mediating body, we moderate the dialogue about the future of church buildings between local authorities, investors, experts and the population."

The possible uses are manifold: from supermarket branches to nightclubs and luxury hotels to a trampoline church. Everything is possible. This is shown by the example of the oldest Gothic church in the Netherlands, the Dominican Church. It has already been a boxing ring, car show, snake house, bicycle parking station, event hall and fire brigade storage room - until a bookshop opened in 2016. Shelves of black steel stand in the nave. There is a coffee house in the choir room. 

Germany also knows the phenomenon. Between 2000 and 2019, around 1,200 churches were abandoned. Unlike in the Netherlands, they mostly remain non-profit places here. As a library, kindergarten, community centre, theatre or climbing hall, they continue to fulfil social, cultural, communal purposes.

No nationwide strategy

In Austria it is different. Vacant churches are hardly an issue. That is remarkable. When buildings in central locations stand empty for a long time, they become the focus of public interest. They are occupied, creative people move in temporarily, they at least initiate a debate. This is not the case with churches. 

Behind the scenes, however, the Catholic Church is naturally concerned. "It is clear that not all buildings can be preserved due to the declining number of Catholics," says Prüller when asked by the WZ. "There will be levies on church premises. The diocese is in the process of demanding regional building concepts from the parishes." There are no exact guidelines. Nor is there a nationwide strategy. "Each diocese is autonomously responsible for its churches." 

To compensate for the imbalance between few believers and many churches, parishes are often merged. "Another way is the use of a sacred building by another religious community," says theologian Jakob Deibl, who researches social transformation processes and religion at the University of Vienna. 

Church building boom in the 1950s

If no solution can be found, the only option is demolition. In Germany, this fate mainly affects churches from the post-war period. "The destruction of many German cities during the Second World War led to a veritable building boom of churches in the 1950s. A surplus that is no longer needed today," says Deibl. Sometimes the church deliberately chooses this path to prevent image-damaging subsequent uses.  

Austria also has experience with the demolition of churches. Apart from some emergency churches that were only intended as a temporary solution, the Rauchfangkehrerkirche in Wiedner Hauptstraße is a well-known example of the demolition of a church. It gave way to a street in the mid-1960s, despite protests from the citizens. The Voestkirche in Vienna's Stadlau district was demolished in 2020 because it was no longer considered worthy of renovation. It has disappeared from the cityscape.

Churches are emotionally charged places: "They shape the townscape. They stand in beautiful, central places. Whole villages have formed around them. Even for people who don't belong to a religious community, they create identity," says Deibl. "Many people associate churches with collective experiences, memories, images." If a church has to close, that's often not easy, Prüller agrees: "It's important to be sensitive here, because many people have a strong emotional relationship with a church - this is where their ancestors were baptised, married and sent off to the cemetery."

Churches date back to the building type of the ancient basilica. Basilicas were designed as market and court halls - and established themselves as meeting places for the population. "A sacred building is a public space that is not used commercially. Such spaces are becoming fewer. Every railway station is now a shopping centre," says Deibl. The centre function has been lost to the churches. Whereas the church square used to be the most important meeting place, today it is the waste collection centre and business park where people come together.

The hurdles of transformation

The transformation of a church also involves structural hurdles. "Almost all churches are listed buildings, which limits the options. The sales revenue for a church is comparatively low," says Prüller. Even more challenging than monument protection is fire protection. "It is often difficult to reconcile with new visions," says architect Andreas Kleboth, who is part of the planning team around the revitalisation of the Capuchin monastery in Linz.

The project shows how long the path from vacancy to revitalisation of a church can be. In 1991, the monastery closed its doors, and in 2016 the profanation of the associated church took place. That's what the act of de-consecration is called. "The Capuchins did not sell the property, but left it to a developer for 99 years," says Kleboth.

Initial plans to convert it into a therapy centre fell through. A citizens' initiative fought off the erection of a twelve-storey high-rise building in the old monastery garden. A cooperative planning process for the entire neighbourhood, in which residents, the planning team, the city and the investor participated, finally brought relief. In the meantime, the church is a building site. "It is a place of worship. During the construction work we discovered burial sites, archaeologically surveyed them, dissolved them and buried the remains elsewhere," says Kleboth.

Where monks once lived, a tax consultancy firm with around 400 employees will in future check and balance accounts. A company kindergarten is planned in the former living quarters of the clergy. "The church will become the luxury space of the law firm. A large part of their activities will take place in these multifunctional premises. Meetings, library, a place to eat. Ideally, this part will be used for events and thus open to the public - we hope."

The discourse is missing

The architect Kleboth takes a sober view of the project. "Many clerical buildings are no longer needed. If the church does not succeed in becoming more socially relevant, the churches will have to be put to another use. This is an unstoppable process. We are only at the beginning of the restructuring." Theologian Deibl also calls for a broader public discourse to find appropriate solutions: "The topic of subsequent use of church buildings will also become virulent in Austria in the near future and we have to face the question of how we deal with it." There is no answer.

The church "Maria vom Siege" in Vienna's Arsenal is a good example of this. Half a year ago it was deconsecrated. It stands like a foreign body between residential buildings. The portal is cordoned off with a chain. It used to be the army chapel for the soldiers stationed here. What will happen to it now is uncertain. The property management is checking which concepts are possible in the middle of a residential area, according to an enquiry from the WZ.

No one really knows what is to happen to all the churches. A club in St. Stephen's Cathedral? The idea is radical. But it is not completely out of touch with reality.

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