A street in Bourbon-Lancy, France. Notebook
I was fortunate to spend a few days in France in September, thanks be to God. My nerves were fairly frazzled by then, after nearly 18 months of semi- or perma-lockdown. Last year saw me take a staycation in the eastern counties of Ulster, but this year something else was needed — so France it was, with the car. And like many Irish people of my age, weekends abroad are spent trying to find a church hosting Mass that Sunday. It proved a difficult search.
Simple
You might think that Sunday Mass for a priest on holidays might be a simple matter. For me, it’s the one time of the year that I sit in a pew and observe what Sunday Mass looks and feels like from there. It usually educates me for the rest of the year.
I spent two weekends in France. On the first Saturday night there, I found myself staying in a hostelry straight across from the church in the tiny village of les Riceys, in the Champagne region. Getting to that place had taken a very long trip up a narrow and winding road. Imagine my surprise when I found that Sunday Mass would mean driving all the way back down that winding road, and adding another 10 miles onto the trip, for a 9am Mass. A bracing thought.
The following weekend I had better fortune, and I learned more about the church in France too. I was staying in the town of Bourbon-Lancy (which looks like it takes its name from a type of whiskey, but of course the name was pronounced in a completely different way!).
Arriving to that town early, I made my way to the church and found that Mass was celebrated there every Sunday. In addition, there were 10 ‘out-churches’ in which the Vigil Mass was celebrated at 6.30pm in each place in their turn, every 10th week.
I made my way to the venue for Mass that Saturday night (with the help of Google Maps): the little church was seven kilometres out from the town. I found that this church at Maldat had once been a parish church for Maldat parish, as I presume all the other nine churches had been. In effect, a new parish had been created from 10 previous parishes — a little glimpse of our future Church in Ireland too perhaps.
Liturgy
And yet: the liturgy in that church that Saturday night was full of life. Everyone was masked but everyone sang, at the invitation of the animator, a lady in the sanctuary who led the singing, without instrumental back-up. Sometimes they all went a bit flat, but no one seemed to mind. The Mass was attended by many older people, but a couple of younger families with children too, with many people ministering during the Mass. Among the announcements was the meeting of the Liturgy Group at the central presbytery, to prepare the following Saturday night’s liturgy, in another of the ten satellite churches. Quite an experience.
Questions about France’s weekend Masses
I have questions about weekend Masses in France: perhaps a reader may have the answer? One parish where I attended Mass in France replaced at least 10 previous parishes, with vigil Mass celebrated in the outside churches every 10th week. My question: do people go from church to church for the vigil Mass every Saturday, or do they only go to Mass when it is in their local church? Is any other Sunday celebration held locally when there is no Mass? Could faith be sustained by a gathering of the community to pray together only once in every 10 weeks?
From an abbey to a jail
As one named Bernard, I have always been fascinated by Clairvaux, St Bernard’s suffix. I visited his place this year, discovering that St Bernard christened the place (meaning ‘clear valley’), and that the abbey once held over 800 monks. Before the French Revolution, this had gone right down to 20, and those 20 set about improving living conditions there for a more comfortable life. With the Revolution, these were turfed out, and the abbey proved a perfect locale for a maximum security jail, which it has been for 200 years, to this day. Quite an interesting place to visit.