The Duomo vs. the Toilet (Where is God Found?)

On my walks this week, I’ve been listening to a series on The Medici family on The Rest is History podcast. After I finished walking the Camino last month, my wife and I spent six days or so in Italy with some friends. We toured around places like Florence, Pisa, Livorno, and Siena—the heart of Tuscany, where the Medicis rose to power in the twelfth century. So, my curiosity was piqued if for no other reason than recent proximity to the region.

As per usual, the hosts, Tom Holland and Dominic Sandbrook, got sidetracked in their telling of the story with a little theological diversion. They were discussing the Pazzi conspiracy of 1478, a sordid tale where two rival banking families (the Pazzis and the Salviatis) were seeking to put an end to the Medici dynasty and had devised a bold plot to assassinate Giuliano and and Lorenzo de Medici during—of all things!—High Mass on Easter Sunday in the Duomo of Florence! At this point, Tom and Dominic had a little back and forth over the theological suitability of this location:

Tom: The plan is to cut them down at mass in front of the altar.

Dominic Yeah.

Tom: In a church.

Dominic: Yeah.

Tom: In front of…

Dominic: Everybody.

Tom: All the assembled clergy. How would the Pope react to this?

Dominic: We’ll find out. I think the Pope will live with it. I mean, God’s watching wherever they do it, Tom. Let’s be honest. It doesn’t make any difference to God where it happens.

Tom: I think it does make a difference to God where it happens. I don’t think God would at all approve of people being murdered in front of the altar of the church.

Dominic: But you think God would be all right with it if was like a public toilet or something? Fine, yeah crack on…

Tom: It’s an interesting theological question, but I just generally think murdering people in cathedrals at high mass is probably not…

Dominic: You don’t approve of it.

Tom (laughing): It’s not whether I approve of it, it’s whether God approves of it. I just don’t think God would approve of that. Going out on a theological limb there.

It’s an amusing bit of banter around a serious question. Would God really be more displeased by the assassination of a prominent statesman at High Mass in the Duomo in Florence than he would be if it were to take place in an outhouse in, say, Uzbekistan? Would God grudgingly overlook a murder that took place in the middle of nowhere but draw the line at a religious service in a gold-encrusted medieval cathedral? On one level, the framing of the question seems absurd. The answer should obviously be that God would disapprove of murder plots anywhere. But Tom’s discomfort in the dialogue points to a reticence that we perhaps all share, on some level. Yes, God disapproves of murder, wherever it takes place. But at High Mass? In a beautiful cathedral? On Easter Sunday?! In Tuscany?! Well, surely that is a different category!

It will not surprise many to learn that I would side squarely with Dominic in the dialogue above. Theologically, I am committed the idea that God is not present in some places more than others, that God does not live in temples made of human hands (Acts 17:24), that God is available to anyone anywhere at any time. The Duomo or the toilet, God’s reaction would be the same. Thou shalt not kill, love your enemies, and all that.

And yet, I just spent two weeks walking a pilgrimage to a medieval cathedral that is supposed to house the bones of St. James. This, even though I attach no special significance to the bones of saints or relics or cathedrals. I do not believe God is more present in the aesthetic marvels and cultural inheritances of Europe than in other parts of the world. So why did I do it? An inspection of the data produced by my Apple watch after two weeks of walking indicates that I walked around 310 km from central Portugal to northern Spain. I could have just pointed my hiking shoes east of my hometown and walked to Gull Lake, SK and gained the same distance. Is God more present, more available on the Camino de Santiago than the Trans-Canada highway of the Canadian prairies?

Again, theologically I am committed to “no.” I could have prayed and walked and talked my way to Gull Lake, SK and achieved similar physical, spiritual, and relational benefits of the Camino (assuming I could have found someone to join me). There would have been fewer cool coffee shops and pubs and churches, the scenery would have been less impressive (apologies to any SK readers!), and there would have been way less history to contemplate. But the 310 km between Porto and Santiago de Compostela is no holier than the distance between Lethbridge and Gull Lake. Nor is God more present in one destination than the other. This simply isn’t how God works, in my view. If anything—and if Jesus’ words about wealth and simplicity and the least and the lowly are to be believed—we would probably have an easier time making the case that God is easier to find in the places and people we hold in low esteem. We cannot go where God is not.

So, I guess I am a bit of a conflicted hypocrite. 🙂 Despite my theological convictions and commitments, I am drawn to impressive places with deep history. I like encountering people from around the world and having interesting theological conversations. I am curious about paths and places where people have met God for hundreds of years. I like going somewhere new and seeing new things, creating set-apart space to be open to hearing from God in new ways. Maybe the takeaway from all this is simply that I am more present to God in some places than others. I guess I’ll have to work on that…

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The image above is a picture of the Duomo in Florence that I took last month. It is a stunning piece of architecture (and, yes, probably an unsuitable place for an assassination).