Now I have nothing against the United Church, except of course heresy, but we can't hold that against the uninformed United Church attendee. It’s just that I want a church that has a plan.  I want a church that has rules.  I want a church that doesn't change.  Anyway.  I have already found it, I'm not actually going to talk about that.

I am going to reflect on the importance of the beauty of churches.  I am not a liturgist, nor am I an art critic and I am not architecturally gifted.  Or even aware.  So, I am telling you this so that you can immediately sense that I am not a snob about these things.  I am a very practical individual.  Very Mary Poppins-ish, but I'm not as nice as her.

What I know is that my babies act differently in beautiful churches with ornate surroundings than in plain churches with boring surroundings.  That is the sole reason I want to attend a traditionally Catholic church than a modern, plain church.  I'll tell you why I think babies act differently in lovely churches.  If you want to know.

We used to go to a Catholic church that shared a building with the United Church.  It was Ecumenical.  It was built in the Seventies.  Enough said if you get my drift. Actually there is never enough said about that. So, it was of course stark because Seventies people thought stark was beautiful, and it neatly avoids the purpose of our existence, and there was a bare cross on the altar because Seventies people didn't like to think about pain and suffering and death.

The tabernacle was tucked in a little teeny weeny Catholic chapel at the back very far corner of the church.  Right next to the kitchen.  And this church had a gymnasium.  So that says a lot too, doesn't it?  But there's more.  Bare walls, carpeted floors, padded auditorium chairs.

Mary was on wheels.

I kid you not.  Wheels.  Something very McDonald's about that.  So the United Church people could wheel her into the little Marian closet conveniently located right off the sanctuary.  They could just stuff Mary in there to avoid a lot of nasty theology. 

When you take your babies into a beautiful church, everything is different.  You feel different.  Of course why wouldn't they who are, as Mr. Dickens pointed out, "so fresh from God."  With statues and paintings and stations of the cross and icons and dark wood and an ornate altar where the eye is naturally led and gold and beautiful linens there comes a sense of awe, reverence, hush and mystery.

Babies know it.  Children know it.  His presence cannot be disguised, played down or ignored.  Instead, His presence is upheld, acknowledged and respected.

Catholic parents:  your babies will like beautiful churches.  Just sayin'.