For Wilshire Baptist Church
The devastating fire at the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris on April 15 had everyone who has ever visited that gothic wonder searching their memories and scanning their files for stories and pictures of the last time they were there. In a way it was a “Pentecost moment” in that people from around the world were speaking in unison but in their own language about their love for the great church in the heart of the City of Light.
My own memory, which I shared in one of these writings after a visit in 2014, recalls another type of Pentecost moment inside the Cathedral:
As much as I love all of those who preach, pray, and lead us in worship on Sunday mornings at Wilshire, the priests at the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris get extra credit for doing all of that while hundreds of tourists mill around looking, talking, and taking pictures.
We were there on a Saturday morning just as the noon mass was starting, and the priest’s melodic French voice was ever-present through the opening prayers and liturgy of the word as we walked down the left wall aisle to explore the architecture and history. We stopped for a moment on his right to listen as he spoke in perfect English about the Gospel account of the death of John the Baptist, and then we continued our tour of the tombs and chapels behind the altar.
By the time we came around to the priest’s left side, he had come to the Lord’s Prayer – the “Our Father” as Catholics call it – and again he spoke in English and said, “This is the prayer that Christ gave to all of us, so please say it with me now in the language of your heart.” As he prayed in French, we prayed in English while others around us prayed in German, Spanish, and languages from Asia, Africa, and beyond.
In that moment everyone was speaking in their own tongue, but everyone knew what everyone was saying. It was a Pentecost moment.
Perhaps the takeaway from that visit isn’t the priest’s amazing concentration but rather his drawing us in to the knowledge that God is there for all of us and is with us no matter who we are, where we go, or what we do – whether kneeling in the pews, milling down the aisles, or rushing down the streets outside.
In the weeks since the fire at Notre Dame there has been plenty of public discussion about how the cathedral should be restored. If it seems odd that the fate of a church would be up for broad public debate, it’s important to note that the French government has owned the building since the beginning of the French Revolution in 1789 with the archdiocese responsible for the costs of their use of the building as a church. As such, the public at large has weighed in with plans and opinions. There have been designs forwarded with glass roofs, rooftop gardens and pools, and suggestions that the building be transformed into a multicultural center reflective of the diversity of French society in the 21st century. But just this week, the French Senate passed a law to ensure the cathedral will be restored to its “last known visual state” and will remain a church.
I’m glad to hear that. When I first visited Notre Dame in 1988, we “went to church” and attended mass, and I still regarded it as a church in 2014 even though it was swarming with tourists including me. No doubt it will be swarmed again when it reopens, but perhaps more can be done this time around to make sure the church isn’t overrun by the culture.
The challenge for any church, whether a renowned cathedral or a more diminutive church in East Dallas, is to make sure you’re feeding faith and not just accommodating religious tourism. It’s fine to have people coming through the doors, but if they don’t sense the true presence of the Holy Spirit, then something isn’t right. And if something isn’t right, it’s not the fault of the stones or bricks; it’s the responsibility of the people who are the church. It’s been that way since Pentecost.