Into France

My blog about this semester should rightly begin where all things begin: at the beginning.  In the context of a blog about a semester spend in a foreign country, the beginning means the plane ride from Chicago to Paris whereby I said goodbye to America for the longest length of time in my life.  The plane was alright as far as overnight travelling is concerned, and after a night shortened by a seven hour time change (but made more tiresome and onerous by an equally long flight) we landed down in Paris.  After waiting several hours in the Paris airport and meeting a nice student from Austria studying in France, we boarded the train to Le Mans.  There we rendezvoused with the superior of the French CSC community, who took us to the provincial house.  He was a very gracious host to us over the next weeks and took us to see many sights of relevance to the history of the Congregation of Holy Cross.

The Cathedral of St. Julian



I should mention that when we arrived in France, the date was Thursday, September 1.  That afternoon, Fr. took us to see the church of Notre Dame de Sainte-Croix.  We celebrated Mass (in English here) in the transcept where Blessed Basil Moreau's tomb is.  We also visited the crypt of the church where Fr. Moreau was formerly buried.  I believe Notre Dame de Sainte-Croix was the chapel for the original Holy Cross community.  In any case it is right next door to the original community house, although it is no longer owned by Holy Cross.  Like most of the church owned properties, including the famous Benedictine abbey of Solemes, it was confiscated by the French government in 1905.  Unlike Solemes and Notre Dame de Sainte-Croix, it was never bought back.



On Friday, we had lunch with the Marianites and their Solitude House.  This house was the first novitiate of the Holy Cross Priests.  This was quite an interesting experience because we did not speak French, and they did not speak English.  Fortunately, KS managed to communicate in French that we were seminarians of Holy Cross, and said "Oui" a lot so that they would keep showing us around.  We saw the chapels where Fr. Moreau would have celebrated Mass, the bedroom of Fr. Moreau and a room full of his relics.  In the afternoon we saw the Cathedral of St. Julian, which was the first really old building I had ever been in.  It had a Romanesque nave and a Gothic transept and choir.  The choir was consecrated in the 13th century.  Of historical significance, Henry II of England was baptized in the Church.  Following the visit to the Cathedral, we walked around the historical part of the city, the Cite Plantagenet.

choukette (pronounced "shoe ket")

 On Saturday, we visited Chateau-Gontier, where Fr. Moreau first started off in seminary.  It was here that I ate my first two (and last two) choukettes, a delicious French pastry.  From here we went to the Holy Cross boarding school, Notre Dame d'Orveau, where we had lunch with the community.  After lunch we went into the surrounding town(s), and saw of couple of churches.  One was dedicated to St. Mary Magdalene, and the other had an altar dedicated to someone who had been killed defending the Church during the French revolution.  It was here that we met an American (a Texan, in fact), who knew the priest we were with.  She was the first native English speaker we had met on our journeys, and had a southern drawl to boot!  She taught at Notre Dame d'Orveau and her husband was involved with a French abroad program for St. Edward's University in Austin.  Among topics of conversation, was the difficult state of the Church in France and the fight to save the neo-Gothic church we had met in from destruction.



Solemes Abby

Saturday evening began what was one of the most memorable experiences I had in France, when we went to the famous Benedictine Abby at Solemes.  We arrived for dinner, and stayed in the guest house both Saturday and Sunday nights.  Before the first meal any visitor eats at Solemes, the Abbot personally washes his hands.  Then the guests are led in silence to the dining hall, where during the duration of the meal there is no talking and one monk is reading selections aloud in French.  Lectio during meals suited me just fine, because I wouldn't have been able to converse in French anyway.  During our time there, we celebrated all the Hours of the day with the monks in the chapel.  The Liturgy of the Hours was sung in Latin, which suited me just fine, because my Latin is much better than my French, which was placed in the prayer booklets opposite the Latin.  Having the Mass and Hours in Latin actually made me feel quite at home.  For those moments, I could have been anywhere in the world, including back in America, and my experience would have been the same.  It turns out there is something in the idea of having an Ecclesial language.  The monastery's day began with 5:20am Matins, and concluded with Compline at 8:30pm (if I remember correctly).  I must admit when I said I attended all the Hours while at the monastery, I neglected to mention that I didn't get up for Matins the second time around (on Monday).

One of the most powerful things about the monastery was the absolute silence I experienced there.  There was literally nothing to do all day but eat, sleep, pray, and read.  Granted, the monks there would have more to do then that, but the overall effect was stunning.  I experienced something of the power of silence, and realized that true silence was something I had never had before in my life.  Even in the quietest moments of my life prior to that, the world and all its distractions were just around the corner, waiting to reenter.  I will probably take up this topic at greater length elsewhere, but for now let it suffice to say that silence has the power to captivate hearts in a deadly way.

 

Angers Citadel



After leaving Solemes on Monday, we went to Angers, where we visited the Citadel of Angers and the famous tapestries there which depict the book of Revelation.  The Citadel was the first real castle I had seen, and even today it would be near impossible to capture with infantry.  When the kingdom of Anjou was assimilated into the French kingdom, the French king ordered the towers of the castle shortened, because the castle was bigger than any in France.  In Angers, we also visited the Cathedral of St. Maurice and the seminary where Fr. Jacques Dujarie began his seminary formation before the French Revolution.

Tuesday we visited Laigne en Belin, the birthplace of Basil Moreau.  We saw the actually house where he was born and lived and celebrated Mass in the village church.  The church where Moreau was baptized and would have altar served was destroyed, but we saw the old foundation, altar, and crucifix from that church.  The church was rebuilt close by in Moreau's lifetime and Moreau did celebrate Mass at the new church.  This was where we had our Mass.  In the afternoon, back in Le Mans, we choose to visit a couple of museums and to walk around the Cite Plantagenet, getting a good look at the Roman walls.

Petit Providence

Wednesday we visited the Sisters of Providence in Ruille.  The Sisters of Providence were the original religious order founded by Fr. Jacques Dujarie, and we saw the original building and chapel the community inhabited, called the "petit providence."  The building lived up to its name, and it is almost impossible to imagine that 50 religious sisters once lived there at once.  We also had a nice lunch with the sisters and toured "grand providence."  We also saw the church where Dujarie was pastor and the original community building for the Brothers of St. Joseph, which he founded (and which later turned into the Brothers of Holy Cross).

Thursday we visited Alencon, the birth place of Therese of Lisieux, the Little Flower.  Therese lived here until she was four.  We saw here tools used by both of her parents and some relics of Therese.  The rooms of the house were recreated, animated, and some even had original artifacts from the Martin family.  Most notable was the bedroom where Therese was born, which could be seen through a glass panel from the adjacent chapel.  The chapel was absolutely beautiful, and we were blessed to celebrate Mass there.  It seems providential that this day was September 8, the Nativity of Our Lady.  That evening, our last in Le Mans, Fr. provincial took us to a creperie where we each had a savory "crepe" (I guess they are called something else when they are savory) and a desert crepe.  Both were absolutely delicious and I don't think I've had anything quite as good since.

While I haven't nearly finished writing about everything that has happened, I will end the post here before I begin to talk about Paris.