A different life

After I left Taizé I went to spend 24 hours with an old friend. Pascale used to live and was brought up in Taize village. I got to know her as my time as a volunteer at Taize, having tea at her house just down the road from the Community. Offering a break from the life at the time. I last saw Pascale sometime before 2020 and Lockdown. I dug her email out from the depths of my gmail and wrote hoping that I might get a response.

About a 90 minute drive from Taize across country, I was welcomed to the small holding where Pascale had made her home. She is a part of the WWOOF community - something that I'd never come across before (WWOOF = Worldwide Opportunities on Organic Farms - see HERE). She lives in a small cabin in a field adjacent to a farm house and barn and is part of a small community that works the land with the farmer/small-holder. Her cabin has no running water or electricity but her door opens out onto the most beautiful, quiet, French countiside. The farm she is a part of is trying new methods of farming that she showed me.

As we talked and walked, I wondered about this life. This life of absolute simplicity. Pascale has very few possessions and is kept company by her Border Collie, Milo. I am not sure, at this stage in my life, I could live like this but it seemed a very fulfilled life. We talked about all sorts of things - the state of the church, religion, God, faiths and a whole host of other things. On Sunday morning we walked the few hundred meters to a platform in a field and looked over the farm and the beauty of the countryside. Church that morning was a field in the sunshine with a friend and conversation.

I sort of envy Pascale - but on the other hand I don't. It is her calling but not mine. It was wonderful to visit, though, and I'd like to go back. As she admirred the motorhome, I think she also probably thought that it was also far too luxurious with it's toilet and shower and heating - all mod cons. I love the motorhome and could probably cope with the cabin for a few nights. However, dealing with emptying the composting toilet was certainly not my cup of tea.

In those 24 hours, though, I felt close to God - another thin place - very few houses, no traffic, little in the way of infrastructure in terms of needing to be conscious of water and electricity usage - and our food from what the earth provided. We sat and ate pancakes for supper and continued our conversation. I felt very blessed to be part of this life for a very small amount of time.

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On my way home

Cycling alongside the Loire River

From Pascale I travelled to Vouvray starting my trip home via Cherbourg. As I've mentioned in a previous post, I was left to the planning of this leg of my French journey as I would have usually consulted my dad. His death has meant that no consultation could be had. I chose Vouvray as a good stopping point as it was sort of mid-way between Taize and Cherbourg and Alexander (our middle son) and I had been here in 2016 on a trip to France to watch the Tour de France and they produce some rather wonderful wines.

It wasn't a pleasant journey from Pascale's - a lot of rain but dry for the last part, thankfully. I settled in and got things connected. It's nice being on electric hook-up as I don't have to worry about the gas supply. I'm in a relatively small campsite a short walk from the town/village centre. Being Monday today not much is open but I look forward to fresh croissant tomorrow!

I cycled to the supermarket for lunch/supper provisions and visited one of the three wine producer shops within 100 meters or so of each other for a bottle! That duly purchased and lunch consumed I cycled into Tours. A beautiful city with a wonderful basilica dedicated to St Martin of Tours (no suprise there) where he is buried. In the crypt his tomb - I'm not sure if he's actually there or not but there is a relic - a piece of his skull - under the altar. It was a lovely cycle - a reminder that the French have it sorted when it comes to looking after cyclists! I had to cycle very little of the 24 or so KMs on the road - the rest was either side of the Loire River on a dedicated cycle track.

On my return I started reading the latest publication of Br Roger's journals - edited highlights. This is volume 3: 1972 - 1976. He begins: 'I would go to the ends of the earth if necessary, to the farthest reaches of the globe, to speak over and over again of my confidence in the younger generations, my confidence in the young. We who are older have to listen, and not condemn. Listen to grasp the creative intuitions alive within them.'

As I reflected on this, I wondered where are the young people's voices today in the church? Where were they in the election of the new pope? Where are they in the selection of the next Archbishop of Canterbury? Whatever we say, however much we think they might be listened to, it is just lip service because they have no real influence - they are not on any panel, they are not within the conclave. How can we - how will we change this? Brother Roger was writing that in 1972 and nothing really has visibly changed. Taize continues to be a place where the young are listened to; where young people gather to share in their lives and faith journeys (Taizé are very strict on how many over 30s they welcome in busier times so that the young are in the majority - in the main summer months those visiting are, in the main young people: 90% or so). But how disheartening it must be for them to not have a voice or voices in the wider church and to see those in senior posts who they sense don't have any sort of idea what it is like to be a young person today.

Much to think and pray on. More photos of my travels below.