Last year I
spent Christmas in a big city in central Ohio - said Monsignor Paul. – The Archbishop
of Cleveland told me that I had to see it, because it was a beautiful and
edifying example of harmonious professing of religion in respect for tradition.
- I was
very struck by the phrase " harmonious professing of religion" -
continued Monsignor Paul. – I thought before that we confessed something
slightly different than a religion. I asked the Archbishop what he meant.
"Look at the towers," - he said.
- I had a
free Sunday, so I decided to go and see these towers. I thought that I’d run
into such a scene: here a copy of a German Weihnachtsmarkt, there a Levantine market,
there again Russian-clad ladies sell piroschki, and a pseudo-Romanesque church crouches
in the background wrapped in colorful candles.
- And in reality?
- asked father Hyacinth.
- In reality,
I did spot all these elements of a multicultural society - continued Monsignor
Paul. - Only that instead a pseudo-Romanesque church there was an impressive religious
quarter, and in this quarter there were five temples many-times-reformed, with
a similar architectural style after some diluted sketches of the third most talented
student of Frank Lloyd Wright. And each of these temples had a tower indeed,
and in each of these towers there was a flashing light like in a lighthouse.
- Beautiful
– said father Hyacinth.
- Yes, it
was quite spectacular - agreed Monsignor Paul - but still of little consequence
to me, so I decided to go to church. And it happened that all these devotions did
not interfere with each other as far as timing of celebrations was concerned. For
one denomination their celebration was set at twelve, in the second at one
thirty, and at the third at three o'clock, so that in the breaks you could even
drink coffee. Oh, and at the fourth worship something struck me, so I went to
the joint preacher...
- Wait, a joint
who? – enquired father Hyacinth.
- Well,
yes, because each of the masses was celebrated by the same guy, you know, just
in every temple he was dressed differently. In one he wore a tie, in the second
one a robe, in another a black biretta, but it was undoubtedly himself in ipsa
persona.
- Splendid -
said master Adalbert.
- So I ask,
what could possibly symbolize the pulsating light in all these lighthouse
towers. Because, I say, my guess is that it may be alluding to the fact that
Christ is like a lighthouse showing us the way, or some other equally
transparent symbol.
- "No,
this is our joint venture with the neo-catechumenate of the Iroquois tribe"
- says the joint preacher. - "Throughout the holidays we disseminate a
slogan “Jesus saves” from these towers, in the Iroquoian. " The Iroquoian
language, what you probably do not know, is a signal one, that is, we
communicate contents with light signals. Please look "- and he shows me five
pulsating lights on the five towers.
-
"Yes" - I said - "and this fifth temple, to which I have not yet
been, is maybe ... ehmm ... a Catholic one?"
- "Ah
yes, pastor Johann, good guy, he sells Bavarian sausages. He is with us soon. "
-
Gentlemen! - continued Monsignor Paul - his Bavarian sausages were so delicious,
so well-seasoned with ginger, freshly grated with horse radish! I felt just like
in Munich in the seventies, when I traveled there to wash windows in the
cathedral. Oh, and I forgot to tell you, that this pastor, pish! I mean rector Johann,
when we already had drunken up all the Gluhwein, said to me - "In fact,
the Iroquoian language signal does not have the word for “Jesus”.
- So what do
they say? - I wanted to know.
- "Oh,
it's only ten oldest Indians who know it. I think it’s something like:
"Large White Bison Fast Fast."
- I do not
know - finished Monsignor Paul – how it was with the Iroquoian language. What I
know for sure that the lanterns shone so beautifully, and the tourists were so
plenty, that at some time I also wished to become such a common preacher. Maybe
even I talk on this issue with the Archbishop of Cleveland.