L’agneau de Dieu, qui enleve les péchés du monde, a pris pitié de moi…

A house of the community of the Beatitudes is located about twenty minutes by bus from Rouen. It houses brothers, sisters, a few single men and women, and one family (who is currently hosting another family, from Russia), as well as a very old dog, a shy cat, two donkeys, an elk, three goldfish, two birds, and a few goats.

The community was founded in the later part of the seventies in France by two protestant couples, as I explained earlier. Apparently they came up with the idea over pizza and ice cream, which is why the houses still celebrate the feast of the community with pizza and ice- cream every year, and they all eat pizza on Saturday nights.

You would expect something founded in the seventies over pizza and ice cream to be more commune-esque. Bright flowered broom skirts. Granny Squares. Pottery. Poetry. Dread locks. Buddy Jesus in the chapel. And indeed there were bongos (in the chapel) and dancing (not, thankfully, in the chapel). And the livestock, as mentioned before. But there was also traditional, reverent Latin chanting, offices, the rosary, fervent Eucharistic adoration, incense (not to cover up any “herbal delights”), combined with Eastern Catholic practices and Jewish practices, in a way that never seemed to lower the more traditional western Catholic practices to mere preference. Every tradition, every practice seems carefully selected. They don’t recognize themselves in union with, but they want to seek union somehow with their “elder brothers,” the Jews. Their chapel and their way of conducting themselves is western European, but they acknowledge and celebrate “the other lung of the church” as well.

Every Friday night, after fasting all day, they celebrate with a Jewish Sabbath meal, during which they wait, together with their Jewish brothers and sisters, they say, for the coming of the Messiah. Saturday is low-key, both in recognition of the Jewish Sabbath and the day Jesus spent in the tomb. They celebrate a Byzantine office on Saturday, before twin Eastern icons of Mary and Jesus. And after this office, they give the French “bisous” to one another, a kiss of peace, letting each other know “Le Christ est résucité!” (Christ is risen), almost as joyfully as if for the first time, as if this really were joyful, astonishing news. And they mean it; it isn’t play acting.

Then comes the Pizza dinner. And then the dancing. Yes, white veiled sisters and white robed brothers, Kate in her white skirt symbolic of the resurrection, laughing and whirling to Jewish music. With the dog running around barking at the dancers (he had to be occupied…his desire to join in was thwarted by the presence of two many careless feet. Kate says he loves being where everyone is together, and if you say “Community room! Community room!” to him in a high-pitched voice he will bound barking to the community room and wait for everyone. At 13 years, he has been part of the house longer than anyone there).

BF (that’s best friend, not boyfriend), we started with Mayim. And they explained the symbolism, going up to the mountain of the Lord and drinking the waters of salvation, then coming down and dancing for joy. There was another I really want to learn and teach your mom- incredibly simple but lots and lots of fun. Their “Shepherd,” a thin, graceful German sister maybe in her forties (but one of the priests, who looked about thirty, confessed he was actually 52, swearing up and down he was not joking, so who knows?) led the dances, with Kate reminding her of steps she’d forgotten (Kate apparently didn’t miss her vocation- she was on the dance team in college, and wowed everyone by breaking out into spontaneous liturgical jazz dancing during a particularly beautiful Hebrew song). Apparently they invent a lot of their dances, and while lots are easy so that everyone can join in and learn them quickly, some are very difficult and elaborate.

Their chapel seems to match their community perfectly, although Kate said they inherited it from a group of Redemptorists (I think). There’s a gorgeous mosaic of Mary’s assumption behind the altar, with the Holy trinity waiting to crown her towards the ceiling. Saints reach out to her on either side. A tabernacle like a mini wooden Cathedral is to the left. Pointed stained glass windows depicting scenes from the Bible line the plain painted walls, with a few icons of various saints including Ste. Therese (She’s apparently a big patronne of the community. They have a photo of her as Jeanne D’Arc on the wall going up the stairs) and St. Louis de Montfort clustered close to the tabernacle. (By the way, I’m not sure, but I think this Montfort might be on the train line between here and Lisieux.) There are a few pews, but the brothers and sisters sit mostly in low wicker chairs with high backs, often used around here in place of kneelers. The mass is largely chanted, in Greek, Latin, and French. During the parts where the priest is doing his part alone, the community often hums or sings a sort of harmony on a sustained vowel, not intruding or completing the priest’s duties with him, but seeming to support him. We sang some of the songs I used to sing Wednesday nights in college (translated into French. No, we didn’t do Awesome God. That was last week. And you’ll be happy to know, Dad, that the “awesome” translates to “powerful” in French. And they only sang the chorus, so there was no mention of “puttin’ on the Ritz.”) They’re both the only congregation I’ve met so far in France that claps in time to the music and the only congregation to actually follow Rome’s orders on how to distribute the Eucharist (I think…all the other churches have people dunking their host in the wine because apparently, as the nice man after mass explained to me the other day, everyone is afraid of catching AIDS by drinking out the chalice. I said I didn’t think AIDS could be spread that way. (Je ne pensais pas que le SIDA pourrait être communiqué comme ça. Communiquer is also, I think, the verb for receiving communion. The guy seemed a little confused. I’d made a great pun without even realizing it.)

All in all, I never imagined such a marriage of the freedom and responsibility, innovation and tradition, outreach and identity, newer practices and passion for the sacraments, open-mindedness and uncompromising loyalty to the church, was possible. Their spirituality is very focused on living out the ideal of Vatican II as expressed by the actual council, not the common interpretation of it (which at times seems to fall into “yeah, whatever, man.) And they seem to be doing a bang-up job.

And they said I could come back!

Countries represented in this particular house:
France (of course. It was evident in the goat cheese on the pizzas and the bowls we drank our coffee out of in the mornings.)
US
Germany
Peru
Brazil
New Caledonia (It’s near Australia. I didn’t know either.)

Countries that I can remember that have houses of the Community of the Beatitudes:
France
Canada (Quebec)
US (Denver, Colorado)
The Phillipines
Democratic Republic of Congo
New Caledonia

(did you know all the people from France and Germany and also the people from South America learned there were five continents? Apparently they count North and South America as just “America.” Kate argued that if the Suez Canal was enough to cut Europe off from Africa, the Panama Canal ought to be enough to separate North and South America.)

pour en savoir plus: http://www.beatitudes.us/