Brussels, Paris, and Carême (Lent)
Well hello Lent. How did you sneak up on me? Fortunately, I was able to get to Mass on Ash Wednesday to get the all-important mark of faith, even though it was a day of travel from Brussels to Paris. Last week we had a program excursion to these two cities, which were both wonderful in their own right. In the train station in Paris, I saw one man with his ashes and it took me a minute to realize what they were – he didn’t have an oil smear on his forehead (uh oh… don’t tell me I’m becoming too secular…).
There are two other Catholic girls in the program but also two Protestant girls that like to attend Catholic Mass. So my friend Katie, who was raised Lutheran but has since fallen away from it, went to St. Francois-Xavier in Paris with me the night that we arrived. There was a 7:30 p.m. Mass and it was packed – with young people! Shocking, I know. French Christianity is supposed to be declining, especially among the youth, but this Mass seemed to say otherwise. It was really beautiful – a huge church filled to capacity.
The ashes felt different than those in the U.S…. sorry for how morbid this is, but it felt more like body ashes (ie cremation) than the wet, dark ash we get at home. Not that I have ever touched body ashes, but they look like sand and this is how these ashes felt on my forehead. Maybe they use a different type of incinerator?
The next day I visited Notre Dame Cathedral and said a rosary in front of a side shrine. A daily rosary is my Lenten offering, though I know it’s something I should do every day anyway. But my prayer life is unfortunately lagging here, so I figured this would be good for my morning commute to school – the right way to start the day.
Sunday morning I went back to St. Francois-Xavier for Mass with a different Protestant friend who was amazed that the readings were the same all around the world (I let her look at my English Word Among Us that I had my mom send me from home). I probably should have explained here that Catholic translates to Universal, but I’m sure that more teaching opportunities will arise. Who knows, maybe we’ll get a convert or two out of this trip. (wink wink; proud of me, Alecia?)
Oh, our hotel in Paris was right next to a convent but I didn’t go visit or anything. It appeared to be cloistered – the only way I knew it was a convent was because a sister took the mail from the mailman at the door one morning.
That Sunday Mass was a family Mass and it was also very crowded. I think St. Francois-Xavier is real communal parish because it’s in a high-end, residential part of Paris (opposite from St. Stephen which has about 7 families.) I saw some of the most adorable kids ever. They had about 12 altar boys between the ages of 8 and 13, and they looked like little angels until they walked down the aisle during the recession hymn and I saw one kick the other. I giggled profusely.
I wish there was more opportunity for me attend daily Mass here but not only is my schedule difficult to adjust for that, there are few churches that open their doors every day. It’s sad, and I know I’ve mentioned the declining faith in Europe already, but I think it’s more apparent in Geneva than in Paris. St. Francois-Xavier has several Masses every day.
My mom is coming to visit this Thursday for my birthday, which is on Saturday. The big 2-1. I must say, 20 has treated me incredibly well… I’ve seen the world, experienced tumultuous personal relationships, and learned more than some people do in a lifetime. And my faith has strengthened 400 percent to the point where my personal motto is:
No storm can shake my inner calm when to this rock I’m clinging.
I pray that you all experience a blessed, fruitful Lent.
~Marissa
