Yesterday, on the way to Beloeil, my friend Kelly and I stumbled upon a little church, tiny actually, but the outside intrigued us so we stopped to take a photo or two.
Neither of us can pass an open door without walking in, so of course we did, and the interior was very pretty and a bit of a surprise.
We took a few photos, as you can see, then went back out to take a few more of the outside, and to see if we could find when the building was erected: 1857, as you can see in the detail of the exterior (below). Not all that old, considering many churches in Europe date to the 1300’s, 1200’s, and some even earlier. Nevertheless, it was interesting. But the real treasure turned out to be one of the hidden variety. Not surprisingly, Kelly found it. She’s an adventurous sort, and inquisitive. She just headed around behind the building while I was taking a few photos of the front.
Pretty soon, I heard her call me. “Sunny! Come here! Look at this!” I walked around the church to the rear, and she was standing in the doorway of a little stone structure. It looked like a sort of cave, although it had been built rather than carved out of the side of a mountain or something.
But the real gem was inside. It left me speechless for a moment. Kelly looked at me, smiling; she knows I’m what most people call “religious.” I just call myself grateful for a Savior.
As you can see, the statue is falling apart; apparently it is as old as the church and not being cared for very well. Kelly remarked that someone ought to repair it. We both recognized it as a treasure; for me it was very emotive. I wonder if people come out to see it on Easter morning. I would be tempted to do so, just to imagine that first Easter Sunday. Always an emotional day, Easter would be even more moving here, with this nearly life-size statue of our rising Savior. Maybe I would pretend I was Mary Magdalene, one of the ladies who ran to the tomb that morning, the one who’d been forgiven so much.
Who am I kidding? I don’t have to pretend at all.