At first glance, this structure appears more as a Greek or Roman temple than a Christian cathedral. The distinct bell tower and niched statuary make it seem Mediterranean. But this truly is the heart of the Baltic states, and the people are rightfully proud of their creation. And there’s a reason why it looks like it belongs in Athens. The first church was built on this site some time in the mid- to late-1200's after King Mindaugas was baptized. Like many Christian constructions of the era, it replaced a pagan temple. In this case, the temple of Perkunas. After the King’s death, the building and many of the people reverted to their old ways, and the church became once again a pagan temple. There aren’t many documents telling what happened to the temple, but Pope Urban VI did mention in 1388 that it had been destroyed and a new cathedral was being built in its place. That papal bull came about because just a year earlier Lithuania had been re-converted to Christianity. To mark the occasion, King Jogalia of Poland (who was also Grand Duke of Lithuania) commissioned a new cathedral to be built on the site. It wasn’t around very long – burning to the ground in 1419. The rebuilding effort started almost immediately, and some of the surviving columns can still be seen today in spite of the fact that the whole thing burned again some time before 1700. It isn’t just fire that posed a threat to the building. The hydrology of the area meant that the cathedral was subjected to frequent flooding. By 1750 the whole building was sinking into the earth. The foundation cracked, as did the walls. In 1769 six people were killed when a storm felled the south tower, causing massive damage. Once again, it was time to rebuild. This time the architect turned away from red brick and embraced the classical architecture of Italy. The result is the building you see today. The cathedral’s next challenge didn’t come from the elements, but from man. In 1950 the Soviet authorities closed the cathedral and destroyed the statues of its saints. Moscow planed to turn it into a museum of atheism, and wanted the remains of Saint Casimir to be the star attraction. After two years of political wrangling, Saint Casimir was transferred to the church of Saints Peter and Paul. The museum plan was scrapped, and the cathedral used as a warehouse. Then after a time, it was abandoned altogether. As the Lithuanian nationalist movement gained strength, and the power of the Soviets slipped, the cathedral wasn’t forgotten. It was renovated by the Museum of Art in the 1980's, and returned to the Church. By 1989 Saint Casmir was back where he belonged, and the statues of the saints restored by 1996.

Photograph courtesy of Jonas Sauciunas.