Last week, I was in Bruges. We were standing in front of yet another unbelievably stunning painting by the Flemish artist Hans Memling, in a 12th century hospital built specifically for the poor, when my daughter said: "Oh no. Another picture of Jesus. Did they ever paint anything else?"

"Source": "I had to laugh. Although I knew that most artists of the 15th century were obliged to paint religious scenes and that these were some of the best ever painted, I shared her complaint. For the last hour we'd gone from one brilliant depiction of the infant Jesus to another, without a profane image in sight. The whole town was saturated in a heavy religious culture. The accumulative effect was becoming monotonous - even oppressive.

Which got me thinking: if someone who believes in what's being depicted in these paintings is struggling to connect with their spiritual content, perhaps all this rich culture is obscuring rather than enhancing the story that inspired it. Is it possible to find the original spark of faith in it - or has it been snuffed out by the weight of tradition and history. Could I even spot the difference?