Do you remember all the fanfare when the new white altar was consecrated in the fledgling Mosta basilica? The thrilled Archbishop rightly argued that the new altar’s dignified form harmonised with the contours of the Rotunda sanctuary because it enhanced the magnificence of the main altar where the imposing tabernacle is positioned.

Just few months later, as from yesterday, the most precious resident of that most holy dwelling will be relegated from its leading position to the choir usually reserved for clergymen mumbling rosaries or dozing while skimming their breviaries. This area is inaccessible to wheelchairs and buggies for you have to pass through an uncomfortable bent narrow corridor from the priests’ sacristy that was recently transformed into a mini hall for tourists watching multilingual videos blasting hideous folkloristic tunes.

Perhaps this is why wannabe priests, clerical gossipers, effeminates, church kitsch photographers and its hoarders together with domineering sassy ladies are flocking in droves to this new prayer oasis within clerical quarters. For in an age when trust in priests is next to zero only weirdoes act like this.

This is also why the official explanation given for this new adoration site seems eerily similar to Herod’s slyness who replaced the Jewish priests with outsiders from the diaspora just after restoring magnificently the temple. He too wanted to adore privately the holy infant but his real god was his ego. A visit to Mosta church from 9am to the late afternoon (bring petty cash to pay at the entrance) will suffice to discern the disturbing rationale and craftiness why the source and summit of the Christian life the Eucharist has lost its pole position.

May the Lord have mercy on us for this grave insult and protect genuine adorers from wolves coming to us in sheep’s clothing (Matthew 7, 15) just as he guided the Magi in Epiphany.