Looking up at the main nave of Notre-Dame Cathedral, listening to a Gregorian mass during Sunday morning, I felt more spirits around me than most of the Christians there. But those spirits were not God’s angels coming dow to greet me. If there is a God, I have no doubt he lingers there from time to time, sitting by the people just so He can look up. But it is the spirit of man you wiIl find from top to bottom, the spirit of emperors and conquerors and stone masons and simple men like me all there feeling they have reached the center of the world. Because that is not a place to revere God; it is a place to revere the grandest achievement of man. Every stone and window and arch commands you to do so, to try to reach the heavens with your flabbergasted gaze. I don’t think neither men nor gods could avoid that. When you look up, the only word that can fill your mind is the same that fills my mind now when I remember that day: awe. It is awe not for the Gods, for it was not Him who built her — it it awe for man, and before man I knelt that day. Before man, I wish I could kneel today.