Mark Twain once said that you couldn’t throw a brick in Montreal without breaking a church window, which might be fun to try sometime, though a little expensive if you get caught. On the other hand, Montreal’s hundreds of churches are deserted most of the time and even when they’re not, they’re full of all sorts of shadowy nooks and crannies where you can get up to God-knows-what.
Maybe it’s the glorious crescendo of all those taboos being shattered, or the sheer fuck-you-ness of getting blown in a pew while Jesus looks down jealously from his crucifix, but there’s no denying the deeply satisfying sense of justice that comes with getting off in the sacred heart of an institution that has profited for centuries from the repression and control of human sexuality. Gays in particular should take great pleasure in taking great pleasure in locations where their inclinations were once declared unnatural by people who believed in talking serpents and worshipped a virgin birth. As for those who consider this sort of thing sacrilege, tell them that if God didn’t want you to get blown at St. Joseph’s, he shouldn’t have called it an oratory.