She grew up in a Catholic family, so faith was present in her upbringing, even if it wasn’t always in her heart. Was faith in her heart? Sometimes I thought it must have been, sometimes I was a bit dubious. Did I think she was serious about her faith? I can’t say, but I don’t doubt she was serious, at least at times.
France is a Catholic country, or at least it was until recently, and you see churches everywhere you go. Not all churches are the same, though. The largest and most famous are called cathedrals; those closest to cathedrals in size and fame are called basilicas. Ordinary churches, the ones you see in neighborhoods, are all called églises. The ubiquity of churches meant frequent stops for us. For every church we came across on our travels, we had to go in and pay homage, or at least spend a little time inside, just “to show our respect.”
A lot of the neighborhood églises we encountered were in poor condition, reflecting the changes that have taken place in French society. Here is a typical one, located just two blocks from ours:
The church was pretty run-down inside, but it was still holding services when we were there.
When it’s an église, and if we’re not in a big hurry, which is rarely the case, we drop in for a quick visit. On these occasions, she would cross herself and mutter the Sign of the Cross at the sight of the icon: “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen!” I couldn’t really hear her, so I guessed it was the Sign of the Cross she muttered on those occasions. I say that because what else do Catholics do when they see a crucifix?
When the church is a celebrated holy site, like a cathedral or a famous basilica, it’s a different matter. In those cases, a quick tour and a murmur of the Sign of the Cross is never enough. She would stay and pray, saying the prayers that all good Catholics say when they’re in a holy place and in the presence of God. Prayers such as Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory Be may not even be enough (I wish I had asked her).
As she began to kneel and say her prayers, I would leave the church and go outside. As I waited for her to come out, I often wondered, of all the good words she addressed to God in her prayers, how many of them were said on my behalf. Was she praying for my sinful soul and my dire need for God’s mercy for my salvation, or was she simply wishing me worldly well-being, like health, career success, and so forth? I had no way of knowing. I never asked her. What I did know was that every time she prayed, I was a part of it, because she told me so. “I must stay a little while and say my prayers, and I’ll pray for you also.” That was clear from the very beginning.
That’s the only downside I could think of, having a Catholic girlfriend. Because she prays for you, it gives you the feeling that you’ve done something wrong, and that something bad is about to happen to you, like being struck by lightning or unexpectedly falling into a ditch. And for all these calamities, you’ll need the mercy of God and many prayers said on your behalf.
These days, when I think of these things, I sometimes feel grateful to her, even though I didn’t believe for a moment that I had committed any sins, much less sins so grievous that I would need the mercy of God to keep me from going to hell or purgatory, whichever is worse. I couldn’t tell if I would be blessed or saved through her prayers. However, I found some of them quite charming, even heartwarming. Here is one of my favorites, the Hail Mary:
“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou … Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen!”
I liked the Hail Mary, partly because it’s something I was already familiar with, but also because of the infamous “Hail Mary” game play, familiar to people who watch American football. I wondered if she always ended her prayers with this one.
On our last visit to that basilica up on the hill, she stayed inside the church for a long time, no doubt praying for me, for herself, for all those she loved.
Yego’s Chronicles 