The Church

I enjoy very much the historical column in our local Saturday paper which is entitled "Time Capsule". The column written in late July caught my rapt attention as I opened the paper. It was not the text, although that was interesting, that seized my attention. It was the large photograph of the Eglise St. Antoine prior to its destruction by fire in 1936. Inset is the smaller photo of Father Theriault, who is a well known historical figure in the City of Timmins. To the right of the church, which was rebuilt immediately, was the object of my immediate interest. Obviously the parish rectory survived the fire that destroyed the large landmark that, as a matter of interest, was built by Lozanne's paternal grandfather. The large Victorian style manse evoked my sincere interest because Lozanne and I spent a couple of difficult hours in that house, which was torn down many years ago, preparing for our upcoming marriage. I remember a warm July evening in 1968. Father Morin, a very kindly man, had a tough job to do that night.

When Lozanne and I became engaged a few cultural, language and religious barriers were crossed. Our situation was not unheard of in those days, but it was unique. To the horror of our parents and the religious institutions of the day, protestant and catholic alike, an English Protestant groom and a French Roman Catholic bride were applying to be married, and I do mean applying. We could not be married in the Roman Catholic Church without the express permission of the bishop who was sequestered in a distant community. Father Anicet Morin, the incumbent vicar in 1968, was to interview us and make a recommendation to the bishop who had the final say in allowing us to marry…or not. Since a marriage in any other church or venue was unthinkable to Lozanne's family, we were under considerable pressure to perform. A long interview progressed through the evening. I have forgotten most of the questions with the exception that we were asked whether we intended to have children. Would those children be raised as Roman Catholics? I was not asked to convert, but further assurances regarding the religious raising of our as yet unborn children were sought in an interview with me alone. After several difficult hours, we were informed that a letter of recommendation would be mailed to the bishop for his consideration.

Obviously, the bishop consented to what was then referred to as a "mixed marriage"...a marriage that has happily lasted 42 years so far. Indeed, I kept my promise to raise the children in the Roman Catholic Church. Ironically, not one of them attends the Roman Catholic Church today. I want it remembered for posterity that I did indeed keep my promise and even participated actively in their religious training.

Most of us go through life regarding buildings or institutions as churches. I was in this category until I was forty-eight years of age. Today, as I remember so vividly the church building we were married in, the words of Colossians 1:18 are ringing in my ears.

18 And He is the head of the body, the church, who is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in all things He may have the preeminence.

The church is not a place. It is not a rich and powerful institution. It certainly is not a building, nor is it a hierarchy of well educated men or women. The body of Christ is a very simple concept. Believers in Jesus and His redemptive powers are the church. Jesus is head of the church. Indeed, in all things He is to have the outstanding superiority. Speakers in the pulpit at our local chapel are greeted by an expansive large lettered message that stretches across most of the back wall of the auditorium. The words "that in all things He may have preeminence" are a very valued reminder of the standing of Jesus in a building that is not a church.

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