A holy night at the museum

National Post, 11 January 2026

Catholic liturgy, a carved raven and the Indian Residential School Memorial Monument provide lots to ponder at the Canadian Museum of History

It’s night at the museum. What really happens?

At the Canadian Museum of History (CMH), across the Ottawa River from Parliament Hill, what you would expect — occasional lectures, meetings, dinners. Wedding receptions can be held. And annually — one holy night — the Christian liturgy sings out in the winter darkness.

The magnificent Douglas Cardinal-designed museum opened in 1989, but work on the major exhibitions continued afterward, including the heart of the museum, the Canadian History Hall. This year marks the thirtieth anniversary of the installation of the hall’s largest artifact, St. Onuphrius church. A whole church.

The size of a one-room schoolhouse, it was built near Smoky Lake, northeast of Edmonton, by Ukrainian Catholic immigrants between 1915 and 1928. The CMH dismantled it, transported it to Ottawa, and rebuilt it. The Ukrainian Catholic Church in Canada insisted that it remain a church, not become a literal museum piece. Once a year then, on Jan. 6, local Ukrainian Catholics celebrate the divine liturgy at St. Onuphrius in the CMH. O holy night at the museum!

Jan. 6 in the Ukrainian Catholic calendar is the feast of “Theophany” (“Epiphany”). For most Catholics that means the coming of the Magi to Bethlehem, but the Ukrainian liturgy focuses on the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan River. Ukrainians boast formidable liturgical stamina, so after a solid 90 minutes inside, they headed outdoors (-10 °C); the blessing of water near the river required another 45 minutes. That this ancient January custom arose in Mediterranean climates is understandable; to maintain it in the frigid north is admirable.

One purpose of liturgy is to make history present. Museums seek to make history come alive. Thus the annual Ukrainian liturgy is supremely fitting for a history museum. I only learned about it recently, and so attended for the first time.

“Today the Master hastens toward baptism, that he may lead humanity to the heights,” prayed my friend Fr. Peter Galadza, clad in a distinctive combination of Byzantine vestments and Canadian winter gear. “The kingdom of the Lord will have no end. Today earth and sea share the joy of the world, and the world has been filled with gladness.”

That’s a land acknowledgement, ancient style. Catholics this week have been praying Psalm 72 — “He shall have dominion from sea to sea” — from which the Fathers of Confederation took Canada’s original name, a “dominion,” and the national motto: a mari usque ad mare (from sea to sea). Canada’s first land acknowledgement was that it all belonged to God.

The CMH has always highlighted Canada’s Indigenous heritage, and the flagship of the entire complex is the Grand Hall, a soaring space where West Coast totem poles find a suitable home. It is one of the most impressive museum spaces anywhere, though it is more cluttered now than when it originally opened.

As I hadn’t been to the CMH in many years, I was interested in seeing the Indian Residential School Memorial Monument, carved in the style of a totem pole, but in its own space. It was installed in 2024 after — as the CMH website puts it — “the Tk’emlúps te Secwepemc Nation announced that the unmarked graves of Indigenous children had been found at the site of the former Kamloops Indian Residential School.”

A history museum should not hide behind quoting false statements without correcting the falsehood, but leave that aside.

Stanley Hunt’s massive red-cedar sculpture is, in a sense, more impressive than the totem poles in the Grand Hall, which compete with each other for attention. His stands alone in a gallery that gives it adequate room to breathe, to speak. It is an impressive work, equal to the subject matter.

Immediately striking is the upside-down cross, an ambiguous symbol without context. St. Peter was piously crucified upside down, not thinking himself worthy to be crucified as Jesus was. The inverted cross is also used in satanic ritual. It gets your attention. But then there is also an inverted maple leaf, as well as the upside-down initials of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and the North West Mounted Police.

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