My mother was told by her mother ‘never come home with a
catholic’ and somehow these words have always sat on me throughout my life even
though essentially I do not have any prejudice about any mass-going Catholics,
I am the first to admit I not fond of all their practices and the reign of the
all powerful priest. I also found it curious that the many of my catholic
friends go to mass as a duty and not a celebration. The bureaucracy of the
church and the wealth of the Vatican compared to the poorest catholic countries
in the world has never felt right and the Popes all seem to be political
puppets with no real backbone until now; my respect for Pope François is immense
and I really hope he continues as he has started. But catholic doctrine is not
what this blog is about.
Living in rural France it is not always easy or even
possible to attend the non-denominational English speaking church, I would need to
travel for an hour or so each way and this does not always fit in the family’s
needs. So I have began to attend our local catholic church here in our small
town and even though it is obviously all in French it has been a very pleasing
surprise.
Last year we were invited to ‘break bread’ for the ‘Fete
Paroissaile de La Transfiguration’ I was unable to attend the mass preceding
the feast but attended the lunch with my children and my mother and a great
time was had by all. These village lunches are a well organised machine, over
150 people get to eat like kings. You bring your own crockery. cutlery etc and
you sit at long tables normally with white tablecloths, which are decorated
with wine leaves and olive branches. You are served a feast of four courses and
as much wine as you like, generously donated by the local vignerons. Not
a cold stodgy sausage roll in sight!
This year I was determined to attend the mass and did and
was so very pleased that I did. The
local parishes all come together for this day so there were probably 200 people
there of all ages but it has to be said it is mainly women of a certain age but
there were lots of families too. Everyone was very excited as the ‘new’ bishop (posted
In January) was preaching today and there definitely was a festive feel to the
mass.
As the service began I was delighted to realise how much I
understood and having studied the bible most of my life knew the passages that
were been read, which was helpful. I loved the fact that the entire
congregation was, even the kids. I was really enjoying myself and was blown
away about how charismatic the bishop was and understood most of his sermon and
he preached with no notes and straight from the heart, it was definitely inspiring.
Often when I attend other worship gatherings, I would get very emotional as something
always seems to touch me deeply. When I
was worshipping in London, a friend of mine and I always sat near each other to
help out with the tissue situation. I did
not expect this to happen today. I was fine until the prayers started, read by
two ladies, one a nun of from the ‘Congregation des Saints Anges’. I had just
said to my daughter how Bug (my grandmother) would not recognise this Catholic
Church with all these guitars, drums and clapping etc. and she said to me ‘don’t
worry Mum she is already dead’! I suddenly had this image of her, my
grandmother, holding Joshua and laughing a deep big belly laugh and I was
filled with emotion, as the nun was praying for families. To my knowledge my grandmother never laughed
like that in life and it gave me great joy to ‘see’ the two of them laughing
together and obviously was an extremely emotional experience.
The service continued and after communion I felt swept away
by the love I felt in the room and the warmth and safety of our Father’s love
and yes the tears began.
Unknown to me the mass was also celebrating a nun from the ‘Sœurs de Sainte-Agnès’ for sixty-five years of
service. There was a very moving tribute
and then a hymn sung in Portuguese accompanied by guitar, as most of the nuns
there, had been involved with out-reach work in Brazil and some are actually Portuguese. This was too much and I felt the presence of
my beautiful ‘belle-sœur’
right there next to me, I cannot explain it but in spite of her and the family’s
terrible loss and tragedy I know that she would be alright. Our Father in heaven was guiding her and
protecting her and the rest of that beautiful family. They then presented Elize (the nun) with a
beautiful ‘living’ bouquet with the centre piece been strelitzias which are one
of my favourite flowers and my sister-in-laws too. It was all too much for me;
I then wept and had great cuddles from my daughter.
After mass we had apéritifs in the sparkling hot sunshine looking at
the most gorgeous views before going in for our four course feast. I was already feeling full of the spirit and
love of the community that I felt too full to eat! On our way in I noticed one of the priests
Charles, he and I are on ‘bise’ terms, he was out of his robes and in his biker
leathers with his collar, in one hand he had a glass of red wine and the other
a big fat cigar and his face was alight and full of joy; I am sure my
grandmother never experienced this kind of priest of minister.
As grace was said the ‘vignerons’ were prayed for again and
thanks was given to the harvest (which looks like a really good one this year).
The hard-working women of the parish were not forgotten and the food as ever
was delicious. The dessert was made by one of the Brazilian Nun’s called Maria
Lusia, it was an almond crème pâtisserie tart with
filled choux buns on top finished off with caramelized sugar, and it was very
good and remained me again of my sister-in-law and her Mum baking special Portuguese
desserts together. (You were definitely with me all day, dear Ana-Lusia).
The meal was relaxed and the buzz of conversations swarmed
around like bees, we sat with our French ‘grandmothers’ and in the main managed
to speak French all through lunch. The
various members of the clergy including the bishop all came to visit and were
as friendly and welcoming as any charming host.
There is nothing funny about these Catholics, sorry Bug, but you got
this one wrong, in this parish anyway.
During the meal, it struck me that my life in France was
knitted together in that one room. The
love of our dear Lord, the importance of the food and the wine (I don’t think I
have ever attended a service where the wine and it’s makers were prayed for at least
five times) and sharing it with friends that are like family, it doesn’t get much
better than that.
A bientôt!
