Revelations and many other good things

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!