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THE NORTHERN KENTUCKY SEARCHER VOLUME 1, NUMBER 32, SEPTEMBER 9, 2001 "THERE I AM IN THEIR MIDST" On August 17, of this year I had the opportunity to fulfill a lifelong dream. Having been raised as a Roman Catholic, spent twelve years as a student in parochial schools, and toyed with the idea of a vocation as a Roman Catholic priest, I dreamed of the day when I could stand within the walls of Saint Peter's basilica in Rome. Even after learning the truth and rendering my obedience to the gospel of Christ and leaving the false religion of Catholicism behind forever, I still longed to see the center of what had been the church of my childhood. On August 17, I walked through its doors. Saint Peter's basilica is the largest church building in the world. If one did not know this upon entering into it, he would learn it very quickly. On the floor of the basilica, running down the center, the lengths of the other largest church buildings in the world are clearly marked. Thus it is demonstrated for all to see that no other building can match Saint Peter's in Rome. For sheer magnitude, it is breathtaking. I cannot begin to describe the incredible artwork that adorns the building. As you enter, to the right is the beautiful marble sculpture of Michelangelo's Pieta. Seemingly without end there is one beautiful statue after another, one beautiful painting after another, incredible woodwork, pure gold lattice and gilding, magnificent mosaics, marble figures on pillars, the ceiling, and the walls. There are six foot high letters that surround the top of the main nave, which is longer than 3 football fields, and this nave is enclosed by a precious bronze canopy that covers the papal altar, under which Peter is supposed to be buried. That bronze canopy is constructed from the melted statue of Colossus that once stood before the great Roman arena and from which it received its name, the Colosseum. Near the papal altar is the statue of Peter. The feet of Peter are practically worn away from the centuries of Roman Catholic pilgrims who have filed by and ran their hands across the feet of that statue, asking Peter for help and graces. Around the corner from that statue is the body of Pope John XXIII, recently exhumed and laying in state since his beatification, which is the first step in the process of canonization. I could go on and on and never do this building justice in my description. Even on this Friday morning there were thousands of people there and as I left the building, I was standing before Saint Peter's Square, into which thousands upon thousands of people flock to hear the papal addresses. It is surrounded by columns that are topped with statues of various figures. From a physical standpoint I have never seen anything that comes even close to matching the beauty, the awesomeness, and the ostentatiousness of the center of Roman Catholicism. I must not fail to mention the Vatican souvenir shop that is located right outside the entrance to the Square. Here a person can buy just about any kind of Roman Catholic article he may desire, and there is even an arrangement to have any item you buy taken inside the Vatican itself, blessed and delivered to your hotel. Statues, rosaries, books, medals, scapulars, postcards, holy cards; name it and it is probably there. Many, many things went through my mind as I beheld this building that at one time had meant so much to me. The emotions I felt were staggering as I beheld this monument to man-made religion. As the flashbulbs were popping and the tour guides were speaking and pointing, and all the people stood with their mouths gaping open, I thought of the Lord's statement in Matthew 8:20. Jesus said, "The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head." Where did man get the idea that these visual displays mean anything at all to God? As I wandered into the souvenir shop and saw the hoards of people snatching up everything they could get their hands on, I thought of Jesus making a scourge of cords, pouring out the coins of the money changers and overturning their tables, while proclaiming, "Take these things away; stop making My Father's house a house of merchandise." I saw people bowing before the crypts and the images of past popes who are entombed within the confines of Saint Peter's. I thought of the ridiculous Roman Catholic distinction between the various forms of worship; cultus latriae, cultus hyperduliae, and cultus duliae. To the minds of the people bowing before those statues there was no difference. As these people bowed before the statue of Peter and ran their hands across its feet, I knew they did not know that Peter himself had told Cornelius, "Stand up; I too am just a man!" when Cornelius had fallen at his feet in worship. They did not know it because the Roman Catholic authorities had not told them and they were content to have it so. They did not know that Jesus had said in Matthew 23:8 - 12, "But do not be called Rabbi; for One is your Teacher, and you are all brothers. And do not call anyone on earth your father; for One is your Father, He who is in heaven. And do not be called leaders; for One is your Leader, that is, Christ. But the greatest among you shall be your servant. And whoever exalts himself shall be humbled; and whoever humbles himself shall be exalted." Even though my heart aches, I am glad I went to Saint Peter's. The primary reason for that gladness was something else that happened on my way there. On August 12, I was privileged to meet with a group of brethren in London, England. I took the subway to get there, and had to walk down a street in a somewhat seedy section of town. Without a sign to announce its location or any physical beauty to attract one to it, I came to a community room in the midst of what would be called a housing project in the States. It was not well painted and not very fancy at all. As a matter of fact, it was just a room. But into this room came about 40 brethren from all over London to worship. We sat on chairs that we all pitched in to set up. The brethren were like most brethren everywhere in that they greeted us so warmly and with such love. Oh, we sang together, prayed together, partook of the Lord's Supper together, gave of our means together, and studied from God's Word. There was nothing there that could be called enticing or attractive from a worldly standpoint, but I know that the Lord was there. There was no other reason for any one to be there but to worship God. The magnificent Saint Peter's basilica in Rome is not what God is all about, but those 40 or so humble brethren meeting together in a rented hall truly is. I think of us here in the United States being so often concerned about the buildings in which we meet, building more than we need, fancier than we need, to put on a good show. I am not talking about a nice and appropriate meeting place to conduct our worship to the Lord, nor am I talking about taking care of what we do have. But I am talking about really knowing what is important - and the church is not a building. It doesn't matter how big, beautiful, and ostentatious it may be. Saint Peter's may very well stand until the time that the Lord returns. Then that magnificent building with all of its priceless treasures will be gone. Peter told us, "But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, in which the heavens will pass away with a roar and the elements will be destroyed with intense heat, and the earth and its works will be burned up." (2 Pet. 3:10) But the true church, the church of Christ that knows nothing of magnificent buildings and priceless earthly treasures, will be delivered up to God the Father to be with the Lord forever. Greg Litmer
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