As the Summer Olympics are set to ensue in Paris this Friday, July 26, I can’t help but think back to spring break of my senior year in high school. I started taking French in the 8th grade, while the overwhelming majority of my class took Spanish. I guess I had to be different or something. I think one of my sisters liked the French teacher, perhaps. Maybe I appreciated the sound of that spoken language more. There may have been some appeal to the culture, the little I knew about it. Regardless, it turned out to be a life-shaping decision.
That French teacher, Madame Smith, as we so called her, was my favorite teacher during my adolescent years, to be sure. Enough of an admired mentor that I became an officer in the French Club, even if that wasn’t the coolest thing to do in the high school realm, where popularity was worth just as much as grocery store carryout-working paychecks. But I also didn’t mind sticking it out in that “nerdy” group, because there was a most fascinating perk (thanks to parental financial support, to put it mildly) at the end. Just before Easter, we got on a plane from Columbus to the City of Lights.
I remember the Eiffel Tower, taking a rackety elevator to the top. I remember the absolute chaos of the Champs-Élysées with the Arc de Triomphe in the midst of 12 circular lanes of traffic (!... God help them all!). I remember the Louvre with art I wish I would have spent more time gazing into a history of immense human talent. Those touristy obsessed points of interest will receive their fair share of camera time in the coming weeks, to say the least; and something else will too, but it won’t have the same immense humanity filling it as it did several years ago, including the last time the world-adored city hosted the Olympiad Games in 1924.
Unfortunately, just over five years ago, a fire ignited in one of the most breathtaking places I have ever seen in the Notre-Dame Cathedral. With all due respect to the church building I ventured into on Sunday mornings and some Wednesday evenings here and there during my younger years, this was a whole ‘nother level of…holiness, soul captivation, transcendence, can’t-take-your-eyes-off-ness, and an unfathomable how-in-the-word-did-they-pull-this-off wondering. It was as if it could hold all the majestic immensity of the entire Holy Trinity, in all the illustrious power and grace God had to offer. And yet, even the most spectacular of human achievement can be torn down.
Nevertheless, the most amazing gem of church architecture that started nearly a millennia ago, and had to go through yet another major renovation in recent years, is set to re-open to somewhat full potential on December 8. And I suppose there’s an extra layer of Gospel proclamation to be applied from that building meant to exude not so much intimidation, but hope. After all, we cling to a most spectacular God not of brute force, but of immense capability for renewal in all of us. We cling to the God who insists on hope for adolescents wondering if there is a place for them in popularity-obsessed high school years. We cling to the God who insists hope for athletes who face their fair share of setbacks due to injury or lost support from others not only for medal glory, but for newfound stories of inspiration to push them through a lifetime of twists and turns. We cling to the God who insists on hope to all who feel as if, out of nowhere, their whole life is torn down due to illness or a loved one’s death or whatever else: that God can empower just enough other talented and gifted people to build us back up, even if it takes five years to do so.
Going back to that life-shaping spring break, we returned home in time for Easter Sunday. And no, it wasn’t quite the same eye-catching-ness of a physical sanctuary as the one on the other side of the Pond. But I suppose the same soul-catching Gospel applied throughout the universe: nothing can happen in this life so broken, so devastating, not even death itself, that God cannot build back up to life. The solo trumpet in that sanctuary doing the usual “Jesus Christ Is Risen Today” leading into a whole precious part of the still-standing body of Christ still had its life-shaping conviction. No matter the breath-taking achievement of human talent, that Resurrection act is the towering hope that will never be taken down. Thanks be to God, indeed!
In Christ,
Pastor Brad
For the progress reports about the Notre-Dame Cathedral reconstruction, please visit:
www.friendsofnotredamedeparis.org/reconstruction-progress/