Draw Your Own Conclusions

Welcome to 2007! I’ve returned from the surprisingly green environs of London, Ontario and still have a day or so to kill before I start back at work. So I’ve been watching a bit of football and a variety of dvds (including my newest guilty pleasure, a film called Stick It). Since part of my holidays have already been covered on Chris’ blog, I thought I would jump straight to this past Sunday, when I had one of those really Bizarro World moments. Enough preamble, let’s get to it.

This past Sunday, I decided to check out the local Catholic churches. I’m not a devout Catholic by any stretch of the imagination, but recent correspondence with a new friend prompted me to take a look around. So I did some web searches on the Archdiocese of Montreal website and found a listing for Saint-Etienne, located about a block or so from me. It didn’t list the times of the services, so I made a wild guess and took a walk over. Here’s the thing—when I got to the address, there was NO church there! Nothing. There was just a fenced off lawn where I was expecting to see one.

I was a little put off by that. One would think that the Archdiocese would have the good sense to keep their parish listings at least somewhat current. I turned around and started to walk home when I noticed a church steeple off a few blocks away from me. So I decided it was worth a look. After all, I could have gotten the address mixed up. The closer I got, the more I realized how big this place was. It was HUGE. I can’t really say I’m surprised, though, since historically, the province of Quebec has always been a very Catholic province.

As it turns out, I’d found the parish of Saint-Ambroise. The service had started at 11am, so I was already late, but I decided to slip in the back anyway. Now I’m not sure if it was the echo of the hall (if someone can suggest a better word to describe the inside of a church, I’ll gladly take it) or the fact that I’d never spent much time learning religious words in my French courses, but I didn’t understand the majority of what was said. After the mass, I decided to introduce myself to the priest.

He was a pleasant enough fellow, with glasses and gray hair. He gave me the general rundown of the mass schedule and asked the usual questions about whether I’d been baptized, etc. occasionally switching to English after noticing my accent. I’d mentioned in passing that I had moved to Montreal from London and he told me that his brother used to teach Physics at Western. Interesting coincidence, but I didn’t think anything more of it.

On my way out, I took a look at the parish bulletin, trying to find a listing of the mass times and then, before leaving, I remembered my manners and asked the priest’s name. His answer left me stunned. We’re talking jaw-on-the-floor stunned here. I had just been having a pleasant conversation with Denis Saint-Maurice—the uncle of one of my best friends through eighth grade and high school, Martin St-Maurice! I’m a bit disappointed in myself that I hadn’t caught on sooner, since it was common knowledge amongst our group of friends that Martin’s father was a Physics professor. That was the reason they moved to London in the first place!

So I’m not sure what to make of this, to be quite honest. After all, there are a little less than 2 million people in Montreal and I just happened to move into THIS parish’s area? The odds of this happening are lottery-esque. So draw what conclusions you may from this, but I think I’ll be popping into the Sunday services a bit more regularly from now on. Couldn’t hurt, right? Til next time…