A gigantic metal structure. A Parisian icon. The uncopyrighted edifice that now adorns t-shirts, lamp stands, pencils boxes, and all sorts of memorabilia the world over. The Eiffel Tower.
We saved our tour of the Eiffel Tower to near the end of our stay in France. While it graced the landscape and provided a backdrop to several of our pictures, we didn’t actually ascend the massive structure until the day before we flew out. However, understanding the history of this icon greatly helps one appreciate its dominance in the Parisian skyline. Indeed, the Eiffel Tower has played a significant part in French history since its construction in 1889.
First built in celebration of the 100th anniversary of French independence, the tower was originally designed for the 1889 World Fair. It first stood a brilliant red. Later, it was painted orange. Its next shade was yellow, then green. Today, three different shades of grey cover the tower and become increasingly lighter as one ascends, giving the appearance that the Tower is vanishing into the air.
Gustavo Eiffel, whose design for the tower came from two of his employees, won a competition for the best tower design for the 1889 World Fair. Of 300 other entrants, including one with a giant guillotine, his surpassed measure. Eiffel loved the tower, but the people of Paris did not. It was agreed: the tower would stay for twenty years after the fair and then be dismantled. Eiffel, who hoped for its permanence, had to convince the people of Paris the tower was worth saving.
The tower helped by functioning as a weather station. However, this benefit proved insufficient in convincing Parisians that it should forever dominate Paris’s landscape. It was, in fact, radio antenna atop the tower that proved its importance to the French. Decades afterward, during World War 2, the tower helped broadcast to city taxis to transport soldiers to the front line. While this was not a particularly significant battle strategy, the Iron Lady, as she is nicknamed, saved the day. During the war, the tower also intercepted communications by Madame Harry, a German spy.
However, artists of the late 1800s hated the tower and protested, calling this a scar in the city of Paris. It was iron, not stone, and thus did not seem a beautiful edifice to their classical tastes. Originally, when Eiffel’s two workers had devised the tower’s plan, it was to have four pillars. Wisely, Eiffel curved the tower, providing an aerodynamic model and using the superior design to manage negative criticism.
Eiffel likewise sought to reconcile notions about the tower by arguing that many appreciated the views it provided, although one writer ate here daily so as not to see it! For visitors to Paris, the tower was the highest view in the world at the time. Besides that, elevators provided a quick ride to the top. Today, one hundred people can fit into the double-decker elevators.
Visitors to Paris today would be remiss not to visit such a dominant icon in the cityscape. Purchasing tickets weeks in advance may insure a ride to the very top, to obtain a postage-stamp view of the city below.
Yet the tower was not always so well beloved and needed to earn its rightful place here. With Eiffel charging admission and such entrance fees continuing to the present, one could argue that the very “scar” in the landscape has transfigured into a beauty mark, lucrative and profitable in a way few ever imagined at the end of the 19th century.
As I pondered the remarkable reputation Eiffel gained through his tower, I considered another builder in Scripture. First Kings 22:39 summarizes King Ahab’s physical accomplishments thus: “Now the rest of the acts of Ahab, and all that he did, and the ivory house which he made, and all the cities that he built, are they not written in the book of the chronicles of the kings of Israel?” Most Bible students quickly associate Ahab’s name with a king who hated God, one of the most profoundly evil of that nation's rulers. Rarely is the beautiful ivory house he built foremost in the minds of Scripture readers. Can any name the various cities he established? But the ungodly deeds he committed—the slaughter of Naboth, the idolatry and corruption throughout the land of Israel in Baal worship—these stand out for generations to come.
The Eiffel Tower has become an icon in Paris, and Eiffel's name is indelibly etched in history--due to the landmark bearing his name. But as King Ahab illustrates, it is the building of our lives—those things we do affecting eternity—for which all of us, famous or not, will one day give account. To my knowledge, God’s Book records but one verse for all of Ahab’s earthly constructions and accomplishments; yet his evil deeds fill many Bible verses. His tragic death and that of his wife go down in biblical history, and both his and Jezebel's names have become synonymous with evil.
As we view impressive monuments of time, carved in stone or towering iron, bearing the names of famous individuals of the past or present day, let us ever recall the lasting nature of that which lives on forever.
Let us consider eternity.
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