Notre-Dame Basilica

When my daughter pointed out to me the Notre-Dame Basilica in Montreal, first by talking about it, then from a brochure about it, she told me: “dad, talking is nothing like seeing”. Prepare yourself. Tomorrow, we will visit it”. I have not abandoned the view of our heritage that links visiting churches to worship. Nevertheless, I gave in to her enthusiastic words. Yesterday, she and a friend of ours brought me along to the church that stands erect in the middle of a city which overlooks the sea and the passion of a history whose wealth remains in knowing that Man is a God-worshipping being. The church is absolutely beautiful. Everything in it seems to be coming down from above: its dome; its ground; its colors; its structure; its glass; its arts some of which tell a fraction of the story of holiness that is part of the history of the city… In the church, many people gathered, whose faces indicated that they had come from different places. Some of them were contemplating the beauty of the place, and others were pouring themselves out in a beautiful prayer. I read about churches that people saw as heaven on earth. For me, this was one of them!