It was hard for me to explain to my girls why people would erect such a gorgeous building to celebrate the brutal death of a man (even if that guy was Jesus).
Serena: But Mommy, who was Jesus?
Me: The son of God.
Serena: But how did they know?
Me: I don't remember. But he was Jewish, too.
Serena: Well, that doesn't even make sense. Is this a Jewish church?
Marlowe: Mommy, who's that girl?
Me: Mary, Jesus' mom.
Serena: So she was married to God?
Me: No, she was married to Joseph.
Serena: Wait a minute...(thinks about it, tries to wrap her pre-sex-ed mind around the idea of Mary and God hooking up) What?
Marlowe: Why is that girl Mary holding a bleeding guy?
Me: That's Jesus. He was dying.
Serena: What? How?
Me: Uh, on a cross. He, uh, starved to death.
Serena: But why is he bleeding if he only starved to death?
Marlowe: Look! Geese! (Kids run outdoors to the courtyard.)
As beautiful as the church was, and there were choirboys singing like angels inside, I think we were all happy to step back out into the sunshine.