Act of faith.

In a country beset by both natural disasters and political violence, the new city cathedral in Managua represents a potent symbol of hope for Nicaragua's Catholic populace.

In 1972, an earthquake devastated the Nicaraguan capital of Managua, destroying the city's Catholic cathedral. Restoration of the original Spanish Colonial building was considered impossible, so it was decided to establish a new cathedral on a new site. In a country traumatised by both natural disasters and violent political upheaval, this act assumed a profound spiritual and social significance. Nearly 90 per cent of Nicaragua's 4 million population is Catholic, so the raising of a new cathedral became a potent symbol of the survival of faith. Yet the problem of realising a such a monumental building in a deeply impoverished country has meant that both the necessary finance and expertise came, ultimately, from outside Nicaragua. Following approaches by the Archbishop of Managua, funding was secured from the Mission Chapels Foundation, an organisation established by an American Catholic businessman to build chapels in underdeveloped countries. And in 1990 the Mexican architect Ricardo Legorreta was finally appointed to produce a design.

The new cathedral is located on the upper part of the city on a 12 hectare site in what has become the new centre of Managua, but still has a disquietingly placeless aura. The site is isolated from the adjoining thoroughfares by a barbed wire enclosure and squatter shacks block the south end of a processional route lined with imported mature palm trees.

Legorreta's design is a powerful response to the notion that the nature of liturgical space has changed from an awe-inspiring 'house of God', to more of a 'house of the community'. This evolution has its origins in decrees postulated by the Second Vatican Council in the early 1960s, which recognised that the contemporary Catholic community should move from a traditionally passive role to greater participation with ecclesiastical authority.

The simplicity of Legorreta's plan reflects this. Oriented on a north-south axis, the main gathering space is 43m by 37m, rising majestically to a height of almost 21m above the congregation, emphasising the community, rather than the clergy. At the north end is a semicircular sacristy and shallow podium, on which sits the altar. The towering side aisles are lined with pivoting oak doors and punctuated by fretted timber screens painted virulent pink. Like the barium yellow selectively applied to the underside of the roof structure, and the flashes of carmine and cobalt on the external walls, the use of raw colour evokes a searing contrast against the rough, in-situ concrete. The effect of both the doors and screens is to siphon the prevailing east-west breeze through the cavernous space, achieving an impressive coolness entirely through natural means. As a result, the building has become a not just a spiritual refuge, but a physical shelter from the intensity of the Managuan climate and has evolved into an unofficial community centre.

Attached to the main space, which regularly holds 1000 people for Sunday mass, are three smaller side chapels. A baptistery on the southwest corner exudes a poetic, Zen-like serenity, illuminated by slits in the concrete walls and a single oculus overhead. Daily mass is celebrated in the Santisimo chapel, a rectangular space with a cross-shaped aperture punched into the wall at one end. The scale and play of light create an intimacy and calm appropriate to the daily eucharistic celebration. Finally there is a separate veneration chapel dedicated to the image of the Sangre de Christo, an ancient crucifix salvaged from Managua's original cathedral. The sacred relic is mounted on a podium and covered by a glass cage, echoing the bell-jar like form of the chapel itself. The interior of the chapel is painted bright orange and studded with holes that radiate points of light. From outside, the perforated silo of the chapel appears as a constellated dome of the heavens.

The roof structure is expressed as a dramatic cluster of bulbous onion domes, partly inspired by Louis Kahn and partly by the Spanish presence in Nicaragua. The 63 domes admit light as well as ventilation, but their mammarian appearance has, not surprisingly, unnerved some of the more conservative members of the congregation. Yet the building is popular and well used - open-air masses in the esplanade in front of the cathedral attract 100 000 celebrants. By far the largest building to be constructed in Managua for at least a decade, the sheer scale and stark, haunting beauty of the new cathedral manages to transcend its bleak surroundings yet still be part of them. This is best epitomised by the scrawny finger of the bell tower that presides over the entire building, its pockmarked concrete deliberately exposed as a symbol of Nicaragua's scarred soul.