I walked in here a visitor and walked out a believer.
I have seen hundreds of churches from the grand to the humble, been to historic places of pilgrimage, found solace in unpretentious chapels, stood in awe at masterpieces of architecture. But here I felt a rekindling of faith, like going back to my childhood, like a blind man regaining sight, reacquainting with light.
Could it be the totally unabashed expression of devotion and belief in a higher order? Did I see man’s aspiration towards holiness despite his imperfections, his desire to rise above his troubled existence?
They say a church is not a building, that it resides in the hearts of men. Men are imperfect; it will always be an imperfect church. Yet by offering the better part of himself — his aspirations, hopes, and faith — he gets a chance to transcend his humanity, and touch holy ground.