07th January 2010
New Year’s Mass and Apilo’s award
By Earl Bousquet

As I do every first day of every year – no matter where I am – I attended Holy Mass at the Cathedral (of the Immaculate Conception). Don’t ask me why, but it’s one of the few things I don’t compromise over. It’s always good to be sitting in the House of the Lord, reflecting on the past year and begging His forgiveness for your sins past and present – and future.
As usual, I had “all ears and eyes open”. Looking around the basilica, I saw many fellow sinners (who also looked like they were also repenting). But, I heard nothing new that interested me more than anything else. For the first time in a long time, I had no idea who the officiating priest was.
The journalist in me does not allow me to attend mass without a pen and paper. But this time the tools of my trade were redundant, because, unlike previous years, there was no disclosure from the pulpit about the way the church spent its money last year. Normally, the Vicar of Castries engages in that form of annual transparency and accountability on the first day of the year. He announces how much was collected through collections (now there are two per mass), how much was paid on utility bills and other expenses. He would also indicate how many christenings, weddings and burials took place in the year just ended. But not this year...
While at mass (including christenings, weddings and funerals) at the Cathedral, another thing I do is to admire the age-old masterpiece murals that adorn the ceiling. I also admire the murals painted by Dunstan St. Omer and the decorated colourful pane glass windows along the left and right sides of the church. I’m always proud that “Apilo” (St. Omer) was able to bring the images of the Saints closer to Caribbean and African imagery; and how he’d integrated his artistic sons into the world of mural art. (No wonder he was awarded by the UWI as the Caribbean’s greatest church muralist.)
But as I looked at the ceiling from front to back, my stare hit brakes above the right side of the altar. The images painted up there so long ago have suddenly given way to bare boards. Apparently there’s some renovation taking place. I wondered whether this meant that the entire ceiling’s age-old paintings will now disappear – and whether it meant that when I attend Mass next New Year I will be staring at a blank ceiling.