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)

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

Ov revoir La Pelviniere, ou revoir Francia!

Our final stop on our pilgrimage of great French Cathedrals took us north of our home-base at Champ du Boult, up along the upper Seine Valley, to the city of Rouen—by far the largest Norman city, and one of France’s most important ports.

In the words of our literary companion, Edith Wharton:

“Here indeed the traveller finds himself in no mere “cathedra town”… the cathedral itself has put forth the appeal of all its accumulated treasures to make one take, first of all, the turn to its doors. There are few completer impressions in Europe than that to be received as one enters the Lady Chapel of Rouen, where an almost Italian profusion of colour and ornament have been suffered to accumulate slowly about its central ornament—the typically northern monument of the two Cardinals of Amboise.”  

~Edith Wharton (“A Motor-Flight Through France”)

It’s only fitting that we would end with St. Joan of Arc, who has been with us at every stop on our pilgrimage of the French countryside. Rouen is the city where Joan of Arc died, and we ended our two-week pilgrimage at her cathedral:

More on Joan of Arc later -- tomorrow we say Ov revoir to France, and head back home to Oklahoma! Thank you for your prayers -- and count on ours from whenever we are on our Camino.