The version of the Internet that comes across my eyes is strewn with commentary about church buildings, furnishings, and vestments - and much of that commentary is snarky. Everyone has an opinion - including me. If you want to discover what some of those opinions are, try wearing a canary yellow, watered silk cope in church some time, and you will see how ready people are to share their opinions about these things. I have; it was fun!
The completion of the restoration of Notre Dame cathedral in Paris has occasioned a fair amount of such commentary. Oh my.
The fact of the restoration of Notre Dame is flabbergasting to me. When I was in Paris four summers ago, I would have bet you money that the great cathedral’s doors would not be open by now. The work that has taken place there is staggering by any measure, I am quite sure.
After that visit four years ago, I wrote a sermon about the images of Notre Dame that had been created by children in the aftermath of the great fire there. I found those images beyond charming; and they reflected a measure of faith and insight that far surpassed their level of artistic accomplishment. In that sermon I called Notre Dame a “beautiful temple of God’s love in the heart of France.” What does it mean that a nation, experiencing a great deal of political turmoil, and whose populace largely rejects many aspects of religious commitment, has lavished its attention on such a temple?
I don’t know how to interpret the zeitgeist in France, and I have nothing to offer you by way of explanation from a Frenchman’s point of view. But I am reminded by one of those children’s images of a basic tenet of theology: that God always acts first. I’m sure that’s not what Rebecca from Paris had in mind when she made her drawing, but it serves as a reminder all the same. In the sermon I described her image: “She shows the now-destroyed flèche topped by a red Sacred Heart, past which is flying what looks like a chicken, but must be a dove, since it is carrying an olive branch in its beak. The chicken-dove is flying toward the upper left-hand corner of the drawing, whence there reaches down a five-fingered hand identified as ‘La main de Dieu’ (the hand of God).”
One of the things we might see when we take note of the astonishing accomplishment of the restoration of Notre Dame, is something that is even more wonderful than the artistry and craftsmanship that achieved this feat: it’s the witness to the very real probability that God is not anywhere near finished with the likes of us, even where the religion that calls on his Name has faltered badly.
Notre Dame, Our Lady, Mary, the Mother of God is not done with us either. That sermon was preached on her feast day. It ended like this: “when you get to know Mary, she never fails to introduce you to her Son, to help you discover who he is, and why it is that you should get to know him. And chances are that if you spend any time with her at all, she will instruct you to do whatever he tells you. And I trust that my heart is joined, not only with Paris and the people of France, but with the hearts of children around the world, who have much to teach us, when I pray: Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.”
What a tremendous feat of engineering, artistry, hard work, and determination the restoration of Notre Dame is. But far more wonderfully, what a beautiful sign it is that God is not finished with us, and remains ready and able to restore what has been lost, to rebuild from ashes, to deliver hope. God always acts first. And God has not stopped taking decisive action in the world. His hand reaches out to us; the sacred heart of his only Son beats with love for us; and the power of the Spirit, not to be confused with either chicken or dove, still comes whooshing into the world, often where we least expect it!
Another wonderful piece from my favorite author!