Grace Outside the Doors

I've had an interesting experiences since I arrived in Paris. I am quite convinced that God is preparing me for re-entry into the world of busy-ness, demands, hurry up, fast-food, quick-pace, miss the beauty, on the surface conversations, lack of community (especially in the church) and more that makes us more human doings almost robot like rather than human beings filled with joy and wonder--the way I believe we were created to be--aware not only of one's self but others and creation. 

I shared a hostel room with three college girls from the states that we're spending their summer in Europe. And two other internationals--one an Asian male (I apologize for not knowing more than that but he came in after the light was turned out past midnight when the girls finally left and turned it back on and left before anyone else was up this morning) and a woman from Argentina who had just arrived in Paris that morning, walked all day and just wanted to go to sleep. The girls from the states partied in the late afternoon. 

Took a long nap and then were up again at 10 to get ready to out for the night. That's great. But they did so loudly in the room, drinking wine, aware that others were tired. I joined in their conversation as did the woman from Argentina. Finally around midnight they were ready and headed out the door and asked if I wanted the light out, "yes please!" Ten minutes later it was back on. Fortunately for me the train had provided an eye mask, ear plugs and a blanket. I didn't need the blanket because though it said on the door of you open the window the a/c will shut off please don't open the window these girls had opened the window. (It also said no food and alcohol in the rooms) I wasn't the food, alcohol, a/c police, nor was I their mother. But I could put on my eye mask, put in my ear plugs, I had taken my sleeping pill. And I could be as I quiet in the morning. Well that's not totally true. That's impossible with some things wrapped in plastic bags but I could be as quiet as possible. Because if I were noisy then their day would simply be worse. But perhaps they will someday remember a simple kindness. Maybe not but I felt better. 

Then I started out for my day. I had breakfast at the hostel. Made my lunch. Went back to the room and bandaged the finger. And then headed out, map in hand, and feeling challenged by the day ahead. I debated about whether or not getting tickets to the Louvre (it had originally been on my agenda along with going up in the Eiffel Tower) but I saw the yellow arrows and just started following them. I followed them all the way to a church. And then they seemed to stop. But the it was me so I am going to do some more research. So I stopped at a sidewalk cafe and had a cafe au lait. And re-grouped about my day! Right. I'll head to Notre Dame for the 11:30 international service. I paid for my very expensive coffee. And headed out. Awesome. Classic Paris. 

Then I got to the Cathedral. 

And there was this huge line. A woman finally told me this was the line for going up to the tower. The line to go into worship was in front and was much shorter. Great. So I walked to the front. And started to make my way to the back of the line. I walked, and walked, and walked. All of the sudden I realized this line was 10 times as long as at least. I stopped trying to get to the end. I walked back to the front full of relief. But sadness too. Not because I couldn't get into worship but because there were people walking up cutting in line having no awareness for the people standing in the back of the line (it reminds me of those of us who have plenty and either are unaware or don't care about those who have less). 

The relief came with joy as I went and sat near the entrance on the ground as one who isn't allowed in or even no longer feels a place in the organized religion.  I sat and just watched. I said a prayer. I prayed for those who worship and those who gawk--I asked that they find peace. For those who wait and those who are unaware of others--give them patience and awareness. For those who appreciate nature with their friends and children--may they experience your joy. For those who wander and walk---may they find hope. For those who lose their way or feel lost--give them light. For those who visit museums and sit at cafes---may they see beauty and find community. And there was more. 

And then I kept walking and praying...and then I found the American Church in Paris. And ducked in 20 minutes late. They sent me into the balcony. No problem. They were still in their opening praise song time. I looked at my watch again. Wow!! And then the announcements started. They went on for 10 minutes. After 15 I felt that was my cue...and I left. I will stick to my assessment that I knew that community is found outside the church and the divine is at work...

My prayers continue today as I walk around Paris and enjoy conversations and quiet time, picnics in the park and people watching and nature and art. I'm finding peace in letting go of past hurts, in letting go of things I can't control, in telling people how I'm feeling, in dealing with which I do have control, and in walking and praying through things. 

But there was grace outside of the doors for me today like I think there is for so many people not only back home but in so many places. Churches aren't always the places of welcome and community they claim to be. I have to consider this some more. But I know that I find community in my running groups. I find community in my cycling group. I find community in many places that people no longer find it in the church. And I think there is something that the church can learn from this. I knew that community is available outside the church and that the divine is at work in these places as well... but the Camino made me more aware of it. And it is quite beautiful and I am grateful.