Souviens-toi que tu es poussière

Having made it out of the office at a reasonable hour for once, I managed to attend the 7pm Mass at S Pierre de Chaillot in Paris this evening.  It is a splendid 1930s building, with an interesting parish history.  If your French is up to it, you can read about the church and about Chaillot, one of the villages that were subsumed into Paris as it grew, on the parish website. 

We mentioned on this blog yesterday that the Celebrant of the Mass discussed in that post, Monsignor Guy Thomazeau, had been a parish priest of St Pierre de Chaillot in the 1980s, before being elevated to the episcopacy.  Another famous churchman with a connection to St Pierre de Chaillot was Pope John XXIII, who as Monsignor Roncalli was Apostolic Nuncio to France from 1944 to 1953.  The Paris Nunciature is situated in the parish of St Pierre de Chaillot, and the future Pope was a frequent visitor to this great building.  The parish's other claim to fame is that it was in its predecessor building that the Requiem Mass for Marcel Proust was held in 1922. 

Here you can see the church pictured earlier this evening, and then a picture taken by a much more able photographer, found on the internet.

Arriving tonight around ten minutes before Mass began, the church seemed respectably busy but far from full, as the photo below, taken from my vantage point relatively near the front, makes clear.  As the clock struck seven, people appeared as if from nowhere and took their places : there were probably 200-300 in church.  Having heard reports from an Anglican friend of the Marylebone Group who attended the 1230 Mass at St James's today that there were around 300 in attendance there, almost all of whom arrived in the five minutes before Mass started, I should not have been surprised.

The architecture of the building is said to be a typical 1930s rendering of Byzantine influences : perhaps so, architecture is not my field, but I must confess that it always reminds me of Armenia (see this earlier blogpost), especially the tall bell tower that can be seen from various nearby parts of Paris.  Sadly, the photo above does not show my favourite part of the internal architecture, the Byzantine-style frescoes that adorn the walls.  Around the view you can see above is a massive arch, withOur Lord above, surrounded by various saints, then below on the left hand side early popes and the Council of Nicaea, and below on the right hand side Pope Leo XIII, Pope Pius X and Pope Benedict XV alongside the Vatican Council (or, as we might now say, Vatican I).

The music was the very typical French style chant that one expects to hear, accompanied on the fine chamber organ (rescued from St Eustache) rather than on the very fine grandes orgues built in 1994, blessed by Cardinal Lustiger himself and financed by the City of Paris. 

The Homily was very good.  It started by reminding us that the Lenten regime we are asked to follow now is very different from and much lighter than the one that existed until the second half of the twentieth century.  It is perhaps physically less challenging, but this does not mean that we should not take Lent seriously: we should not let Lent pass by without any acknowledgement.

Instead of then moving on to the usual "give up something" or "take up something" approach, Fr Marc Guelfucci took a broader line of attack.  We must do something that "costs us" in Lent.  If giving up something, it must be something we will miss.  If taking up something, it must be something that will impact us.  It is about sacrifice, which comes from sacer (or sacrum) facere, being to make something holy, to make something special, to set something apart.  He made a special appeal for people to consider whether they might give more to the poor this Lent, something that he felt, in this economic environment, was more needed than ever, and was more sure to impact upon us than ever.  He also urged us not to look for excuses, not to decide against giving those ten euros to charity because we worry that it might spend too much on administration, or because we're not sure about every little thing they do : if we make the sacrifice with the best of intentions, then we have done what we can.

One thing that struck me was noticing a phenomenon that others mention having seen.  Those who were keener on bowing, kneeling, crossing themselves - I suppose we can steal Betjeman's phrase all the inessentials of the Faith - were under 40.  As I am - just - still the right side of 40, I was more than happy to follow the approach of the youth. 

We were all ashed, and indeed communicated, very quickly and efficiently.  The ashing was copious, but when I eventually got to see it in a mirror, I cannot say that it looked much like a cross, it was more of a black daub.  Still, I can take comfort from the Gospel reading of the day, in that I avoided making an ostentatious, pharisaic display: I simply looked as if I had had a nasty accident. 

One last photo, proving that not all of Paris is taking on a more sober appearance for Lent.  Here is a picture of the Eiffel Tower, as seen en route from S Pierre back to my flat.

To conclude, after all that talk of France, we must have a piece of very English Lenten choral music.  Here is William Byrd's setting of the Matins responsory for the first Sunday in Lent, Emendemus in Melius.

Let us amend for the better in those things in which we have sinned through ignorance;
lest suddenly overtaken by the day of death,
we seek space for repentance, and are not able to find it.
Hearken, O Lord, and have mercy:
for we have sinned against thee.
Help us, O God of our salvation,
and for the honour of thy name deliver us.

Malteser Broadcast and a Call to Almsgiving

Last Sunday's live broadcast of Mass on French Television (France 2), in a programme entitled Le Jour du Seigneur, featured a celebration of Mass held at the parish of St Elizabeth of Hungary, in the 3rd arrondissement of Paris.  The Mass was celebrated by Monsignor Guy Thomazeau, who was until 2011 the Archbishop of Montpellier, and who, much earlier in his priestly life, was the Vicar General of the Archdiocese of Paris and Parish Priest of S Pierre de Chaillot (Paris 16th arrondissement), being the parish in which I live during the week, and where I hope to attend Mass tomorrow evening.

St Elizabeth's is an extremely beautiful church, but is slightly unusual, in that it is both a parish church and also the Conventual Church (in France) of the Sovereign Military Hospitaller Order of Malta (as well as being the centre of the Catholic Mission to the Chinese of Paris). 

If you watch the footage, which at the time of writing you can do by clicking on the link below, you will see that a large number of Maltese Knights and Dames are present, and that one of the Knights, Charles de Boissezon, is interviewed about the Order and about reconciling his being a member of the Order with working in finance.  (Apologies to those of you who don't have French.)  Liturgy in Paris is sometimes criticised for being at the forefront of 1960's tastes, but this is most definitely a very respectable and respectful offering of the Most Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, even including up-to-date features such as the so-called Benedictine Arrangement of a crucifix on the altar during a versus populum celebration (such as was seen during a visit to Holy Ghost, Balham).

Link to 19 February 2012 edition of Le Jour du Seigneur

The programme also includes a brief reportage on the history of the Order of Malta (in French).  Please be aware that if looking at the link after Sunday 26 February 2012, you might find yourself directed to a different edition of the programme... so, hurry up!

Regular readers of this blog will know that the Knights of Malta have a strong presence at St James's, Spanish Place (see this blogpost for example) and have also shown great support to the Ordinariate, both the Marylebone Group in particular and the Ordinariate more widely.  Photographic evidence of their support for the Marylebone Group can be seen in our profile picture near the top of the right hand side of this blog.  Photographic evidence of their support for the Ordinariate can be found aplenty here and here.

The fact that some of the Knights of Malta known to us are also former members of the congregation at St Mary's Bourne St most probably helps, but without doubt we as the Ordinariate owe a debt of thanks to the Order of Malta.

As we approach Lent, when our thoughts turn, amongst other things, to whether we are doing what we can in terms of almsgiving, the French broadcast reminds of of the charitable works performed by the Order of Malta.  You can read more about these here and here.  While the visible presence and practical assistance of the Knights is much appreciated, including at public events such as the annual Rosary Crusade of Reparation, this is only a part of their role: their active charitable works in the fields of medical work, humanitarian activities and emergency relief are most definitely no less vital.  The Paris métro has, for example, recently been covered in Ordre de Malte posters intended to bring the 59th Annual Leprosy Day to the attention of the public.

At a more individual level, each of us can put some thought into our charitable giving during Lent, in order to comply, to the extent we can according to our situation, with the encouragement to almsgiving given in the Seven Corporal Works of Mercy. 

No doubt good causes such as the Society of St Vincent de Paul and Malteser International are ready to accept any financial support we might wish to provide.  Do have a look at the websites of both groups and at the good work that they do, both in the UK and around the world.  As part of your Lenten programme this year, think about whether there is something you could do to help them to continue to assist those in need.