The Vatican

This Tuesday, nearly my whole class was out sick or stuck at work. Only one student was able to come, so we had a private lesson. I then proceeded to break nearly every rule of teaching. We talked about religion, illness and moral questions. The student told me about her time at a catholic boarding school. Afterwards, she healed by spending a year in Italy learning the language.
Somehow, we got to talking about the vatican. I mentioned visiting with my husband the first year we were married. My great-aunt had given us the wedding gift, that our names were read at every mass for the first year of our marriage.
"I got there and I saw the marble and the statues and the gold and I felt...."
My student began to nod her head. I thought, "shit, she's going to think I'm talking about a positive emotional reaction."
I finished: "more upset, more disgusted, more crushed than I'd expected."
To my surprise, the student continued nodding. "It's horrific." she said.
And it is.
I looked around and was shaking with anger, thinking of the crusades, of the poor people who go without and the teachings that the church supposedly believes in.
In the past few weeks, I've been constantly reminded of that feeling.