A quiet Massachusetts city is now the epicenter of a fierce debate, a battleground over art, faith, and the very meaning of public space. Quincy, a community south of Boston, commissioned two monumental bronze statues – Saint Michael the Archangel and Saint Florian – intended for display outside its new Public Safety Building.
The project, costing $850,000, was envisioned by Mayor Thomas Koch as a tribute to the bravery of first responders. These saints, he argues, are already deeply embedded in the culture of police and fire departments, appearing on medals and prayer cards carried by those who risk their lives daily.
But the plan ignited immediate controversy. A coalition of residents, backed by the ACLU of Massachusetts, the Freedom From Religion Foundation, and Americans United for Separation of Church and State, filed a lawsuit, claiming the statues violate both the state constitution and the First Amendment. They argue the display favors one religion over others, creating a sense of exclusion for non-Catholic citizens.
Plaintiffs contend the statues send a chilling message: that some residents are not fully welcomed or respected by their own government. The imagery of Saint Michael, particularly his depiction standing over a defeated demon, was described as “abhorrent” and evoking “brutal force.”
Legal experts are divided. Joe Davis, senior counsel at the Becket Fund for Religious Liberty, insists the city’s intent is purely civic. He points to centuries of tradition where public art incorporates religious symbolism to convey broader values like courage, justice, and sacrifice.
Davis draws parallels to the U.S. Supreme Court’s upholding of the Bladensburg Peace Cross, a World War I memorial. Just as the cross honored fallen soldiers, he argues, these statues honor those who protect the community. Removing such symbols, he warns, would necessitate a sweeping re-evaluation of public art across the nation.
The case hinges on a critical question: can public symbols with religious origins exist in civic spaces when their purpose is secular or historical? Massachusetts courts, unlike the federal system, continue to apply a strict four-part test for religious neutrality, adding another layer of complexity.
Critics also point to a lack of transparency in the project’s initiation. Payments to the Italian sculptor, Sergey Eylanbekov – known for his monuments of historical figures like John Adams and John Hancock – began in 2023, yet most residents and city officials remained unaware until renderings surfaced in early 2025.
A petition against the statues quickly gathered over 1,600 signatures, and an interfaith coalition of 19 clergy members voiced concerns about creating a divide within the community. The debate has exposed deep-seated anxieties about religious representation in a diverse society.
For now, the towering statues remain in Italy, their arrival in Quincy indefinitely delayed by the legal battle. City officials have paused installation, awaiting a ruling that could set a significant precedent for the relationship between religion and public life in Massachusetts.
The heart of the matter, according to Davis, is simple: Quincy is attempting to express gratitude through art, a practice as old as civilization itself. He believes that recognizing the religious roots of a symbol doesn’t necessarily equate to endorsing a religion, but rather acknowledging a shared cultural heritage.
The Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court may soon decide whether that heritage will be visible on the façade of Quincy’s new Public Safety Building, or remain confined to storage across the ocean, a symbol of a community deeply divided.
