“It is written,
My house shall be a house of prayer,
but you have made it a den of thieves.”
(Lk 19:45-48)

Sometimes we are not always a house of prayer. My friend Patrick was drinking in a bar in downtown Asheville, and an acquaintance came up to him and told him about the death of a mutual friend. He asked, “You’re a Catholic aren’t you?” Patrick answered, “Yes.” The other one asked, “What’s that stuff about lighting a candle?” Patrick explained about lighting a candle and saying a prayer. The other one asked, “Can we light a candle now for our friend who died?” Patrick said, “Yes, of course,” and then took him to the Basilica of Saint Lawrence a few blocks away. The church was open so they went in . . . the other gentleman had never been in a Catholic church and for that matter had probably never been in any church. They lit a candle and then knelt down to say a prayer for their friend. About that time a lady from the Basilica interrupted them and said, “That’ll be fifty cents for the candle!” I’m sure the church needed the money for the candle . . . and they probably would have given a lot more than the fifty cents. But the moment was lost.