The Brussels church commonly referred to as St. Michael’s Cathedral is really called The Cathedral of St. Michael and St. Gudula. St. Michael is the archangel (an angel among angels) who is said to have been responsible for the defeat and eviction of Satan from heaven. St. Gudula lived in Flanders in the late 7th and/or early 8th Centuries and is said to have lived a life of humility while performing a number of impressive miracles. One such miracle was the miraculous relighting of a lantern after its flame was blown out by demons. Together, Sts. Michael and Gudula are the patron saints of Brussels (that’s a golden St. Michael on top of the Town Hall spire). The cathedral was constructed as a Gothic collegiate church over a 300-year period and was completed in 1519. It didn’t receive cathedral status until 1962 – it now shares this status for its diocese with St. Rumbold’s Cathedral in the nearby city of Mechelen. But it’s the church of choice for important events in the royal family.

We found the cathedral to be within walking distance of our hotel. The figures embedded in its façade appeared to be in pretty good condition.

We entered through the right-hand door and were welcomed by gilded figures of the two saints after whom the church is named.

The church had the usual arrangement we’d seen in other cathedrals – central nave, columns, stained glass windows. It seemed to have a somewhat brighter interior than some of the other cathedrals we’d visited.


Roosting on each of twelve columns flanking the nave are 17th-Century statues representing the twelve apostles. Here are some of them:




The cathedral’s pulpit was elaborately carved in 1699 to represent the expulsion of Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden.


Also from the 17th Century is this confessional:

The church’s main organ was installed in 2000, by German organ-builder Gerhard Grenzing. It has 4300 pipes, four keyboards and 63 stops.

Throughout the church are stained glass windows. Most are from the 19th Century, but there are older windows as well.


Some of the windows form a series that tells the story of the 1370 Desecration of the Hosts. According to the story, some Jews at the time stole some hosts (communion wafers) from a Brussels chapel for the purpose of desecrating them by stabbing them with daggers. The story maintains that the wafers miraculously bled and remained unharmed, despite their ill treatment. Not so for the Jews of Brussels – some number of them were burned at the stake (there seem to be differing accounts of the number, ranging from 6 to 20), and the rest were chased out of the city. There are similar stories from the time, situated in different cities throughout Europe, with similar results. The stories smell somewhat of inventions by people who wanted to do bad stuff to Jews. It’s hard to imagine what would motivate a Jew to engage in such behavior in a not-so-tolerant Christian-dominated city – epic stupidity would have to be a big part of the equation.

Of similar vintage to the organ is a shiny new platform at the transept crossing.

Working forward, there is a 19th-Century altar toward the front, and in the apse there is an altarpiece from 1538.


There are a number of chapels throughout the church. A large one is called the Chapel of the Holy Sacrament.

The smaller chapels display a variety of tombs, memorials and artworks.





In our exploration of the church we noticed another product of the 21st Century – a display of what appeared to be Catholic comics. Apparently an effort to appeal to a younger generation, we weren’t able to tell whether they were funny or not, as we didn’t speak the language. I suspect probably not – the Catholic establishment doesn’t have a reputation of being particularly comical. But if they really want to appeal to a younger generation…

From the cathedral we headed back up the hill we’d climbed a couple of days earlier. Our plan was to visit the Royal Museums of Fine Arts.