Missing

47. Of Religion

At the hotel desk, David and Maria were given the key to their new room and informed their belongings had been moved there. They went up to examine it and refresh. "Smaller, but still spacious," David said as he looked at the bedroom's large sitting area, checked the water closet and the bathroom, and then opened a blank door.

"That's an adjoining door, the same as the one in the suite." She sat on the chaise longue and looked up at him. "I'm not at all hungry. I guess the late breakfast is still with me. What shall we do?"

"We could walk again through the old town. Visit the streets we haven't yet seen. I'd like to go into the cathedral to examine its architecture and embellishments. If we get hungry, we can stop along the way."

"We can go inside the cathedral? I've never thought of doing that."

"Yes, certainly we can. You've never been in one?"

"No ... guess I thought I'd be unwelcome with my strange beliefs."

"It's not your beliefs that are strange, but the beliefs of those who had the churches built. They believe by manipulating the emotions of the people and by scaring them with strange stories, they'll have a loyal following who will beg to find salvation from the imagined horrors. It's on the backs of those scared people the churches were built. Generations of them, essentially enslaved by the Church hierarchy who sit back in luxurious comfort."

"I've never thought of such things. So the churches were built as monuments to greed by using fear?"

"Essentially, yes. Think a moment. What would motivate poor peasants to spend their entire lives building a magnificent building while they continued to live in squalor? They lived under the fear of eternal damnation." He shook his head. "Their eternal damnations were their wasted lives; damned by the greed of the Church."

"I often walked around the Münster in Freiburg during my lunch breaks, admiring the intricately carved stone. Odd, I never thought of going inside."

He held out his hand to her. "Come, let's go look at the interior of Berner Münster. Most church interiors are far more impressive than their exteriors." He led her to the door and continued talking as they walked.

"Think of the peasants. Living in squalor in cramped, cold, and dank mud-floored hovels, but being allowed to visit the House of God. Allowed to be in a relatively dry and warm place with immense space, intricately carved wood and stone ornamentation, rich tapestries, vivid paintings and wonderful music. Would not the setting evoke an awe of the power in the hands of the priests?"

They descended the stairs. "Think of how impressed we are by this stairwell, even with no stories fabricated tying it to salvation from eternal damnation. We admire it for what it is. We have no great Gothic churches in western Canada; the country's far too young for that. The first I saw was the Abbey in Bath, built in the eleventh and twelfth centuries."

They nodded thanks to the doorman as they walked out into the street. "It has an intricately carved exterior. Up the front tower are two very tall stone ladders with carved angels climbing to heaven. The interior is like an exquisite work of art. Massive and impressive." He held his arms up, fanned his fingers and arched his wrists. "The arches holding up the roof look like this, but they're of finely carved stone."

"From what you say, it would be difficult not to be impressed."

"The peasants were led to believe the power that had built this would save their souls." David laughed. "The sad thing is that they didn't realise that they were the power that had built the church. It was their labour, their sweat and blood, their tithes. The Church coerced them into thinking they must suffer through life so they might enjoy Heaven later."