my labyrinth pilgrimage: surprised by grace at Chartres

Visiting Chartres Cathedral was one of the highlights of our French pilgrimage last month. I expected our visit to be grand and momentous. I even expected it to be spectacular, and it was.

What I didn’t expect was to be surprised by the encounter. 

One of the first things I noticed when we walked inside this majestic grand dame of Cathedrals is that its legendary labyrinth was uncovered, and people were quietly making their way.  I was instinctively drawn in, called to silently follow the path that pilgrims have walked in this holy place for almost 1,000 years.

I love being surprised by God’s graces…

I wrote about walking a labyrinth as a beautiful tool for prayer--a unique personal prayer experience--in our book, “The Journey” published by Loyola Press:

“Labyrinths have long been used as meditation and prayer tools. A labyrinth is not a maze or a puzzle to be solved. It does not require logical, sequential, analytical activity aimed at finding a correct path. A labyrinth is unicursal, has only one path. The way in is also the way out. There is no right or wrong way to walk a labyrinth. You can walk as fast or as slow as you want. You can stop along the way or dance your way through the path. Once at the center, you can stay as short or as long as you want  before following the same path to walk out… At its most basic level, the labyrinth is an ancient metaphor representing a journey towards our personal, deepest center, and then back out into the world––hopefully, with a broadened understanding of the journey and/or of the self. 

 During the Middles Ages, labyrinth designs in various forms were often found in Gothic cathedrals. The most famous of these remaining labyrinths is found on the nave of Chartres Cathedral, about 60 miles southwest of Paris. Built around 1200, the Chartres labyrinth is laid on the floor in a style sometimes referred to as a pavement maze, with four meandering quadrants that lead to the center. At the center of the labyrinth there is a rosette design, a Medieval symbol of enlightenment… 

[W]alking a labyrinth serves as a centering tool for me. It reminds me that when I am tired of walking this life journey and I feel like the way is too long, there is only ONE path that I must follow, the path to the One who is my center. It suggests to me that if life feels like too much work, I may be acting like my pilgrimage is a maze or a puzzle to be solved. My call is… to simply stay on the path. I breathe in the Spirit as I walk and allow the way of the labyrinth to take me home to Him who is my Life and my Love. The only choice that I must make is whether or not to walk. This, too, is a metaphor for Christ’s call to discipleship. Will I begin or continue the journey? Will I choose to stay on the path? Will I let Him lead me home?“

~The Journey: a Guide for the Modern Pilgrim 

The nave of the Chartres cathedral is normally lined with chairs that cover most of the labyrinth, making it unaccesible. Yet in recent years the Cathedral has set up a program of regularly uncovering the labyrinth every Friday during the summer months.

But we did not know about this until after the fact. 

We came back the next morning for a more thorough tour of the Cathedral (which I'll write about at a later date) -- but-- my labyrinth was covered by lines and lines of chairs.

France, Mary, and me

in a side chapel at Rouen Cathedral, I discovered this treasure

On our recent pilgrimage of the great French Cathedrals we encountered countless pieces of religious art.  But as my insightful mother in law MarySue Schriber noted, 

“good art shows you something new that you haven’t thought of before, as distinct from confirming what you already know.” 

I've been pondering on that, and came up with a few images of Mary from our pilgrimage that helped me discover something about the Mother of Jesus, by opening up my memory--and my imagination.

the "hipped" Mary at Amiens

AND at Compiegne--love her stance!

My first draft of  “The Seekers Guide to Mary” was completely journalistic.  I covered everything:  Mary in relation to scripture, history, other faith traditions, shrines and prayers. 

But my editor at Loyola Press kept pushing me, urging me to say it, “in my own voice.”  It was the hardest thing I had ever faced as a writer—and the best thing I've been pushed to do. 

Mary has always been part of my life as a Hispanic Catholic.  But how do I explain that to you?  The process of rewriting and editing that book made me focus on my own relationship with Mary, and it made me work on how to explain it to other people. 

Caen

Crypt chapel, Chartres

Notre-Dame-la-Grande, Poitier

I had to learn that it was—or rather, it is—through my own stories as a youth, as a mother,  with my own family that I can best tell you about Mary. 

I once heard author Madeline L'Engle say at a writers’ retreat that, yes, it's all been said before. But we have to tell it in our own voice.

At a personal level, that’s how Mary makes sense to me. 

the three kings, Epiphany at St-Pierre de Chauvigny

and the Annunciation (back), with demons and angels watching (front)

imagining the Visitation

Yesterday at daily Mass as we celebrated the feast of the Visitation I couldn't help  remembering some of the beautiful images of this feast that we saw on our French pilgrimage. 

Two very different images that caught my attention picture unique scenarios as the two artists imagined this beautiful feast of the encounter... here they are, Mary and Elizabeth, both of them pregnant!

At the Cathedral in Amien, the artist pictured the Visitation as a "contemporary" event. And below, a modern impressionistic rendition inspired by the stained glass windows of the great Chartres Cathedral:

"The King of Israel, the LORD, is in your midst,

you have no further misfortune to fear.

On that day, it shall be said to Jerusalem:

Fear not, O Zion, be not discouraged!

The LORD, your God, is in your midst,

a mighty savior;

He will rejoice over you with gladness,

and renew you in his love,

He will sing joyfully because of you,

as one sings at festivals."

~Book of Zephaniah, 

Chapter 3: 15-18

the courage to be oneself

entrance to Eglise St Jacques, Compiegne

I remember the first time that I really understood the phrase, “be gentle with yourself.” My friend Pat was giving a workshop at a nearby parish in Austin, and I tagged along with her to listen and keep her company.

I honestly don’t remember the actual topic Pat was presenting, but I remember that at some point during the day she challenged the all-female audience to treat themselves as kindly as they would someone else.

“Imagine that it’s your friend who is in this situation and not you. What would you say to her? How would you treat her? If I had to guess, I bet you’d be much kinder, more patient, more gentle and understanding than you are being to yourself.”

Over the past couple of days, I’ve remembered that moment often, especially as I’ve tried to get back to the “swing” of things here, while still fighting jet lag both in my body and my mind!

Why is it so hard to allow myself to be human?

For example, ever since last week I’ve been saving May 30 in my mind for a special blog on Joan of Arc. Yet here I am with about one hour left in the date, and I still haven’t put anything together.

Yet why continue to give myself a hard time about it? What’s the worse that will happen? Only that you will have to hear about it half a day later!

On May 30, 1431, Joan of Arc was burnt alive on the Old Market Square in Rouen, France—and her ashes thrown into the River Siene. She was 19 years old.

Joan was a big part of our two-week French pilgrimage. We saw images and paintings of her everywhere—and without planning anything but Rouen, we came across several sites related to her courageous story.

Here’s a sampling:

By "chance" we came across the town/church where Joan of Arc was arrested,

in the little town of Compiegne, where we spent our first two nights

Here she is in Beauvais, the Cathedral that will never be finished!

And at the Cathedral in Amiens

And at the Cathedral Notre Dame de Reims, we came across a contemporary exhibit by Greg Tricker dedicated to Joan of Arc (and an assembly of other saints)

In Poitiers, a town we first visited 13 years ago as a stop on the train to Lourdes:

at Mont-St-Michel:

And finally, Rouen, where she was killed on May 30, 1431:

"I ask, first of all, to make peace. If one is not prepared to make peace, I am quite ready to fight for it" ~St. Joan of Arc

our farm home away from home

I've never stayed overnight in a building with a thatch roof!

the road to our farm home

There’s something truly different about staying in lodging with its own individual name, even when I don’t know what the name means!  It makes me feel like I’m visiting a distant relative.

Our farm home away from home, La Pelviniere, is located just outside the village of Champ du Boult—which is near the village of Vire, in the Calvados Region in Normandy. It is early spring here, and everything is green, budding, and right now, very wet.

According to the information on the building, La Pelviniere underwent a complete renovation over 18 months—with final additions done just last year—which transformed the insides of this 300 year old thatched-roof building into a distinctive historic lodging, with completely modern facilities on the inside.

way to our bedroom

michael reading his novel in the sitting area

The bottom line is, we’re not roughing it—and I must admit that I have been very grateful for the central heating the past few days, which have been muggy, rainy, and cold.

 I love the little touches around the house that remind me that this is not your usual house...

the "handle" to my bedroom

The "nightstand" next to my bed, a nitch in the wall

enter -- but mind your head!

a nitch in the kitchen with a stereo & CDs

I do hope before we leave at the end of the week to be able to take a walk in the backyard among the apple trees, which are just-beginning to bloom, and to say hello to the sheep, horses, and chickens that live in the farm next door.

looking out my bedroom window

This whole area is awash with World War II landmarks, history and stories, something we’ll be exploring later in the week, perhaps tomorrow?

Needless to say, no Wi-Fi in our thatched-roof dwelling! But I will post when I can, and concentrate on one aspect or place as we continue on our pilgrimage through the French countryside.

Yesterday we visited Mont-St-Michel, an iconic, imposing landmark about an hour from here. I will post on it soon. Like Chartres, that one place alone commands its own write up!

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NOTE: We heard the news today about the terrifying storms that Norman and Oklahoma City have had the last couple of days -- and the death toll from the tornadoes that went through Moore.  I want to assure you all that you are in our prayers, and we will commend you to Our Lady's care and intercession at every church we go.

my candle of prayer intentions today

Do count on my prayers for you—and thank you for praying us through this pilgrimage journey.