Do you see what I see???

Rarely have I ever felt so unwelcome in a church. It happens sometimes when I enter a Roman Catholic Church, and after this weekend, I think I caught a glimpse about some of the unsightly underbellies that made Protestantism so attractive!

I was in Montreal this weekend and we visited several churches, and each one as unwelcoming as the next. The first one made the worst impression on me! We went in, and I was admiring the architecture. It was a stunning feat of stone masonry and mosaic work. It is actually a replica of St. Peters in Rome – the church is called Mary Queen of the World Cathedral. The walk up is impressive in its scale and grandeur. I was a little taken aback that a homeless man opened the door for us. However, we walked inside and there was that hushed silence that you always sense in a museum. There were tourists milling around, and 2 or 3 people praying in the pews. We stopped to look at the art work, at the Lady Chapel with the alter set with it’s heavy golden holy hardware. There were statues of saints and Mary, and Jesus. There were places to light tea-light candles ($1 each or 5 for $4 - volume discount!). There is a giant canopy type structure over the alter as seen in this photo…
There was a woman who knelt praying in front of a statue of the Virgin Mary. When she stood up, she began pleading to everyone around her for money to help her young children. This really got to me. Here we were in an absolutely stunning place, dedicated to Christian worship, and here, among the gilded walls, was one of the poorest, looking for help, and no one offering to help. Laura and I sat down in one of the pews that was reserved for a Montreal family (as all the pews were) it had its little sign taped down indicating who could sit where. I couldn’t stop the silent tears from running down my face. No wonder the church is in trouble! People care about the building more than they do each other. We see splendour of the church and not the reason it existed in the first place. I have to say; I could not feel God in that place.

As we were leaving, in what was the equivalent to the court of the Gentiles in this monstrosity, there was a little door off to the east of the hall. We didn’t notice it when we went in, but above it, in iron letters was the word “Boutique”. There was a store in the church. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing – how ironic… Not quite moneychangers and sacrificial goats and birds, but a different kind of sacrifice (one from the world of acquisition and corporate consumerism!). The words that came screaming into my mind… ‘Do not make my fathers house into a den of thieves.’

I guess we never learn... or at least we still haven't learned after 2000 years! Unbelievable.