I’ve been going to church a lot lately—for the art, the architecture, the history, the decorative flourishes, the organs, to get out of the rain, to hang out, what with museums and cafés closed during this phase of the pandemic. I’ll call a friend and say, “Hey, want to meet at church?,” though neither of us is Catholic.

We take our hats off when we go in. It’s the respectful thing to do. We respect the sign that says to remove our hats, while the clergy and worshippers respect that we’re not there for worship. Just looking. Mutual respect, of necessity and by law, since most the most notable churches of Paris—those most worth visiting for their art, architecture, organs, etc.—don’t belong to the Church, they belong to the city, to Parisians. They’re our churches. No religious litmus test is required of the visitor. Praise the secular Republic!

The fact that many churches in France don’t belong to the denomination that holds services in them may sound like an aberration, but public they are.

A bit of history will clarify before the video tour at the end of this article.

Blasphemy, Equal Rights and Vandalism

Prior to the French Revolution, under the ancien régime, the vast majority of French were Catholic by virtue of baptism—less so by faith, as the Revolution would show. Religious nationalism, as we would call it today, would not be part of the social order of the new republic. Neither would blasphemy be a crime; it was decriminalized in 1791—not just regarding the prophets, saints and objects that Catholics hold sacred, but for what Protestants and Jews revere as well, since 1791 was also the year that they were given full and equal rights of citizenship. What they held sacred could be blasphemed or ignored as well. (There weren’t many Muslims in France to speak of at the time, so the Revolution wasn’t concerned with Islam per se.)

Freed of the domination of Catholicism, some also felt free to desecrate religious art, architecture and burial sites that were reminders of pre-Revolutionary repression. The term “vandalism” was coined in 1794 to describe willful destruction worthy of the Vandals, but the government soon put a stop to that, for it wasn’t Church property that was being damaged but public property. Indeed, property once considered to belong to the Church or to nobility now belonged to the State. Hadn’t it all been created on the backs of the people?

But what to do with all that property? How to allow the Church to function on public property? How to pay for its maintenance? After the revolutionary decade, the Napoleonic era went a long way in sorting that out with a heavy hand, but throughout the 19th century there were doubts, conflicts and upheavals with respect to the separation of Church and State, even while new churches and now temples and synagogues were being built. Sacrilege–sacrilège!—even became a punishable offense for a time, though no longer, hallelujah. Of course, it’s one thing to disrespect a worshipper’s divine mysteries or Biblical bluster, while another to slander the worshipper or incite hate.

It’s a complicated story, as it is everywhere, but if there’s one chapter that’s particular to France and of which all visitors should be aware, it’s the one entitled “The Law of December 9, 1905 Concerning the Separation of Churches and the State”—the Law of 1905, for short.

The Law of 1905 Concerning the Separation of Churches and the State

The Law of 1905 establishes the principles of secularism (laïcité), guarantees freedom of worship, and defines (along with subsequent texts) the ownership and use of previously built religious edifices and their contents. Here’s the actual law in French. Here’s a good overview in English, including the historical context.

Generally speaking, as a result of the law and the Vatican’s response to it, municipalities own churches, parish chapels and presbyteries built prior to 1905 along with most of the furnishing, decorative elements and artworks existing at the time. State-sponsored temples and synagogues, too, fall under the law, though there were far fewer of them at the time. The State, meanwhile, has ownership and responsibility for cathedrals (at least those originally built as cathedrals prior to the Revolution, since some have changed roles and others have since been built) and chapels on state-owned property. Notre-Dame, the cathedral of Paris, is therefore owned by the State.

(The Orthodox church was scarcely present in Paris in 1905. And other than a small building that went up in the 1850s for Muslim funeral services in the city-run Père Lachaise Cemetery, there was no purposely built mosque in Paris until the construction in the 1920s of the Great Mosque of Paris.)

Not Eternal Damnation but Endless Restoration

France has 42,258 parish churches and chapels, of which only 1951 belong the dioceses, according to a 2016 inventory of the nation’s Conference of Bishops. The City of Paris owns a whopping 96 religious buildings: 85 churches, 9 Protestant temples, and two synagogues. Among these, 68 are officially designated as Historical Monuments and benefit from certain protections and measures of preservation as such. The Catholic Church or a Protestant or Jewish association has been granted use but does not own those places of worship.

While “The Republic neither recognizes, nor pays salaries for, nor subsidizes any form of worship” (Article 2 of the Law of 1905), the maintenance and restoration of State- and city-owned property falls upon its owner. Contrary to when many of these religious edifices were built, no one dare argue that tax money will help save souls and steer sheep to heaven. Lofty enough is the ambition of ensuring that the roof doesn’t leak and that fine works of art don’t fall apart. The Law of 1905 didn’t send France to eternal damnation, but it did set the nation on the path to endless restoration.

Instead of looking to heaven for answer, we look to the budget. As you can imagine, a sizable budget is required to maintain and restore the 96 city-owned religious edifices, 40,000 works of art, 130 organs, acres of stained glass and decorative painting and much liturgical furnishing. The City of Paris earmarks 10-15€ million (about $12-18 million) per year for these projects. (The City of Paris did not return repeated requests for the specific figure in the current budget.) Contributions from the state (through the Ministry of Culture), foundations (this, for example), corporate sponsors and private donors add a few million to the budget each year, assigned to specific project, from structural work to the restoration of a chapel or a work of art.

As examples of major maintenance and restoration projects: The recently completed restoration of the interior of Saint-Germain-des-Prés cost 6.4 million euros. Cleaning and repairing the southern façade of Saint Eustache at Les Halles cost 2.3 million, with a large wish-list yet to go inside. The Trinity Church in the 9th arrondissement is now in the midst of a 26-million-euro facelift. The city has earmarked 6.6 million for work on the belltower and northern transept of Saint Gervais, behind City Hall. Etcetera, etcetera.

As noted above, Notre-Dame belongs to the State so restoration efforts there are typically minimal on the Paris budget. However, the cathedral was still smoldering from the fire of April 15, 2019 when the mayor of Paris pledged a public contribution of 50 million euros on behalf of Parisians. (Overall pledges, public and private, eventually approached one billion.)

Guide to Church Visits

Paris isn’t Rome, of course. The City of Light has neither the breath nor depth nor intricacy of the ecclesiastic (dis)order of the Eternal City. Nevertheless, to take measure of the churchscape of Paris, residents and visitors can pick up a booklet entitled Guide des Visites d’Eglises (Guide to Church Visits). Available free in many churches and at the Paris Tourist Office, it indicates 112 churches and places of worship and provides brief descriptions—in French and in English—of their history and architectural and artistic points of interest. The booklet is published by the Catholic organization Art Culture et Foi / Paris (foi means faith, not to be confused with foie, meaning liver, as in foie gras).

Created in 1989, the organization’s mission is to undertake, encourage and support cultural and artistic activities in the diocese of Paris. The booklet therefore only concerns Christian places of worship. In addition to Catholic churches, it lists some Protestant temples and Orthodox churches, the more historic of which were built as Catholic churches then later designated by the State or the city for use by the other Christian denominations.

The city-owned synagogues naturally have no place in the booklet. For information about visiting the Great Synagogue, la Grande Synagogue de Paris, see here. For information on visiting the Great Mosque, la Grande Mosquée de Paris, see here.

Not all those listed in the booklet are property of the City of Paris since it also includes churches and chapels built after 1905. Most are open daily while others can be visited on a regular bases, though they may have special requirements for security reasons. (Smaller churches may consider walking around during mass as an intrusion, though you’re generally able to stand in the back if you don’t feel like taking a seat.) Not all are worth the detour. However, all offer free guided tours (whether rarely, occasionally or often), conducted by volunteers, parishioners or members of Art Culture et Foi / Paris. Times and dates are indicated. Thirty-eight of the listings have QR codes, which are also posted in the churches, for further information on your smartphone. (The few Paris churches and chapels worth visiting but not found the booklet are absent because they don’t offer guided tours, such as Sacré Coeur.)

With or without further information, curiosity is rewarded. If a church door is open, why not remove your hat and walk in? I do. As I say, I’ve been going to church a lot lately. Here are some that I’ve visited:

Video: Gary Goes to Church

© 2021, Gary Lee Kraut

The post Gary Goes To Church in Paris, and So Should You (Video) appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

The most appropriate reference point for situating Saint Leonard de Noblat isn’t a point but a line, that of the major medieval pilgrimage route from Vezelay, in Burgundy, to the relics of Saint James in Compostela, Spain. Follow it on foot, as a pilgrim did/does, proceeding at a steady pace of 14 miles (23 km) per day, and you’ll arrive in Saint Leonard de Noblat after a month or so, with another eight weeks to go before Compostela. With that as your line of reference, here’s the map to situate you.

That line, that pilgrimage along the Way of Saint James (Camino de Santiago), and more specifically the relics of Saint Leonard along the Way, is what earned Saint Leonard de Noblat a significant dot on the map.

My own approach was by car from Aubusson, of tapestry fame, 41 miles (66km) to the east. Courtney Withrow approached from Limoges, 13 miles (21km) to the west. We meet here in this 2-part article, where, in this part, I give an overview of town and its development and where, in the second part, Courtney tells of its 500-year-old paper mill Le Moulin du Got.

Doubly present on the UNESCO World Heritage List

So let’s forget for a moment that Saint Leonard de Noblat is well off the beaten path for most travelers. Instead, we’ll return to a time and a place where it was very much on the path of pilgrims. Thanks to that path, this town of 4500, whose historic center is preserved in its stone simplicity, is doubly present on the UNESCO World Heritage List:

– Tangibly, for its collegiate church that was a part of a dense constellation of medieval structures in France along the Way of Saint James;

– Intangibly, as part of religious processions and ceremonies known as Limousin Septennial Ostensions, organized every seven years to present and worship the relics of saints held in the region. (An ostension is a presentation of relics.) About 20 towns in the region—most within 25 miles of Limoges, along with several outliers—band together during the Ostensions to “translate” or move their local relics from town to town through the septennial year. The next Ostensions will take place in 2023.

Leonard, patron saint of prisoners

Nobiliacum (which morphed into Noblac and Noblat) was the name of the village overlooking the Vienne River that existed here in the Dark Ages before becoming fully associated with Saint Leonard through the veneration of his relics during the Middle Ages. Saint Leonard’s life story was written in 1030, nearly 500 years after his death, so it’s as much legend as biography. As word of it spread so did the appeal of visiting his relics and perhaps benefiting from their healing powers.

As the story goes, Leonard was born into aristocracy in the late 5th century during the time of Clovis, King of the Franks. Like Clovis, he was baptized by Saint Remi in Reims, with Clovis himself as his godfather. Become a pious adult, Leonard was given by Clovis the right to release prisoners that Leonard felt worthy of amnesty, hence his status as the patron saint of prisoners. Effigies of the saint present him holding shackles and/or chains, perhaps also with a fleur de lys to symbolize his royal connection. Leonard eventually chose to live as a hermit in the forest by the crossroads that would become Nobiliacum and that would eventually also bear his own name. Hermits took part in evangelizing a region by setting up shop in the forest near well-traveled roads. Miracles followed.

At the turn of the millennium, word was spreading throughout the region and beyond of the miraculous healing powers of a procession of the relics of Saint Martial of Limoges during an epidemic of ergot poisoning, an epidemic caused by grain infected with certain fungi that would strike the Limousin region. As the biography of Saint Leonard gained ground during the second half of the 11th century, other miracles of relief or cure would then be attributed to a procession of his relics, giving further credence to the power of ostensions. Funding from passing pilgrims and from feudal powers contributed to the creation of many churches through the 11th and 12th centuries along the pilgrimage routes of central and southwest France. The mostly Romanesque collegiate church of Saint Leonard de Noblat was a part of that movement. Today, still, it houses the saint’s relics, particularly his skull.

Massepain, the local pastry

Pilgrimages are intended to provide spiritual strength, but long-distance pilgrims, in addition to having sore feet, often had difficulties being suitably nourished. Two 13th-century entrances to a former pilgrim’s hospital still visible in town attest to the physical suffering of pilgrims.

My own visit to Saint Leonard de Noblat knew no suffering. In fact, while I spent some time visiting the old stones and the old bones of Saint Leonard de Noblat, my first encounter with the history of the pilgrimage to and through town came in the form of a pastry called massepain.

Actually, my first encounter wasn’t with a massepain but with Frédéric Rougerie, a founding member and master of ceremonies of the Confrérie des Compagnons de Massepain de Saint Leonard de Noblat, the order or brotherhood that protects and promotes traditional Saint Leonard massepain. Meeting me in the kitchen at Maison Coignac (22 Avenue du Maréchal Foch), a family-run pastry shop and bakery, one of many shops in town making massepain, he greeted me in full brotherhood regalia: a brown cape, the color of the full almonds that go into the pastry (and of Limousin cows); a neck baldric meeting at a patch of Limousin leather on which is attached, in locally-made Limoges porcelain, a reproduction of a massepain bearing the image of the arms of Saint Leonard; a large broach indicating an affiliation with other Limousin brotherhoods, and a pastry chef’s hat.

Calling massepain a pastry makes it sound fancier than it truly is. It’s simply a soft, dry, rustic biscuit made of three ingredients: almonds, egg whites and sugar. I resist translating massepain as marzipan since that risks calling to mind dense almond paste that’s often molded into animal-shaped confections. Marzipan it may be, but this one is so particular to Saint Leonard that it’s best to call it by its French name. Saint Leonard de Noblat is also known as the City of Massepain.

For pilgrims traveling on a poor diet of water, cabbage leaves and some root vegetables, almond-based biscuits were, says Rougerie, the equivalent of a high-protein sports bars. Almonds grow along the Mediterranean basin, so almonds and almond-based confections were known to southern travelers. However, the traditional recipe of the massepain of Saint Leonard practiced today wasn’t developed until 1899, when the local pastry maker Camille Petitjean learned a similar recipe from a Swiss monk who was passing through on the pilgrimage route. Petitjean sold them in town and in surrounding villages, and massepains soon became a staple of the sweet and rustic life in and around Saint Leonard.

Three ingredients go into the traditional Saint Leonard massepain: almonds (the full almond which is then finely crushed), egg whites (unbeaten) and sugar (caster). Despite its Mediterranean roots, the United States is currently the world’s largest almond producer, so many a Saint Leonard massepain likely contain California almonds. By its ingredients, the massepain is cousin to the Parisian macaroon, but it’s very much a country cousin. The macaroon doesn’t use the full almond fruit, its egg white is beaten, and its sugar is powdered, making it suitable for a highfalutin pilgrimage to Paris but not to Saint Leonard de Noblat.

Pilgrims make up only a tiny part of the clientele for massepain. The bulk is consumed by, well, everyone living in or passing through the region. Massepains can be enjoyed at aperitif-time with, say, a glass of pink champagne if you want to go upmarket with your downmarket pastry, in the afternoon with coffee or tea, even by a teething toddler. You name it, the simple yet versatile massapain can have its place.

Come mealtime, however, the traveler to the region inevitably opts for a hearty sit-down meal that may be inspired by the farmland of Saint Leonard de Noblat and the surrounding Limousin region, where you’ll see Limousin cattle, as well as Limousin lamb and Black Bottom pigs. Chestnuts and Limousin apples are also grown in the region.

Porcelain, Paper and Leather

While Saint Leonard now putters along as a largely off-track town in 21st century France, it maintains its attachment not only to its pilgrimage prosperity during the Middle Ages but also to its substantial period of prosperity as a hub for artisanal activity during the 17th and 18th centuries.

To understand the artisanal prosperity, your reference map would show the rivers running through the region, in particularly the Vienne River, which lent its name to the department or sub-region called Haute-Vienne or Upper Vienne. (Saint Leonard and Limoges are far upstream along the Vienne. Further downstream, the river makes a sharp turn north and eventually flows into the Loire River near Saumur.) The quality of its water and that of its small tributaries at this stage of its course encouraged the development two types of water-dependent manufacturing complexes: tanneries, treating hides for leather goods, and papermills. The Vienne also played a role in the development of the porcelain industry in and around Limoges.

Tanneries: By the 19th century there were about 20 sites for tanning hides in the area. The only one now in operation is Tannerie Bastin & Fils. Bastin is a 200-year-old tanner that opened the functioning Moulin Follet (Follet Mill) site in 1892 and has been owned by J.M. Weston since 1981. Weston, based in Limoges, uses leather made here for shoe soles.

Papermills: There were also some 20 paper producers in the heyday of artisanal paper production in the Saint Leonard area in the 18th century. Again, only one remains, the Moulin du Got, which Courtney Withrow tells about in the second part of this article.

Porcelain: Fine bone china and hard-paste porcelain considered “Limoges” isn’t only made in the city of Limoges or by a single producer but by artisans and industry throughout the region who have access to the proper clay within the production zone.

The region was actually known for centuries for its enamel production prior to gaining an international reputation for its porcelain in the early 18th century. In Saint Leonard, the local star of fine porcelain production is Coquet, producer of the brands J.L Coquet and Jaune de Chrome. (Two years ago the company was caught up in revelations of The Daphne Project with respect to money laundering. Since 2019, Coquet has belonged to the Compagnie Européenne de Luxe et Traditions.) Porcelaine Carpenet, a family-run Limoges producer, is also located in Saint Leonard.

Saint Leonard de Noblat Tourist Office, Place du Champ de Mars, 87400 Saint-Léonard de Noblat. The tourst office website provides a list of hotels and B&Bs in the area. Note: This is not an area for luxury accommodations or haute cuisine.

Haute-Vienne Tourist Information. Saint Leonard and Limoges are within the department of Haute-Vienne. Americans on the Statue of Liberty tour of France (there are about 25 replicas in France, in addition to those in Paris) might head 12 miles southeast to Châteauneuf-la-Forêt, where one stands as the monument to the dead of the First and Second World Wars. Not much else to see once you get there, but a drive though Haute-Vienne countryside nonetheless.

Oradour sur Glane, the “martyred village,” is also located in Haute-Vienne, 28 miles (46km) west of Saint Leonard de Noblat.

© 2020, Gary Lee Kraut

Go to the second part of this 2-part article Saint Leonard de Noblat: 500 Years of Paper Production.

The post Saint Léonard de Noblat: Pilgrims, Prisoners, Pastries, Porcelain, Paper appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

For Earthlings, the March equinox means that spring has begin in the Northern Hemisphere and that autumn has begun in the Southern Hemisphere. For Christians following Western traditions and the Gregorian calendar, the March equinox is also related to Easter since Easter is celebrated on the first Sunday after the full moon occurring on or after the March equinox.

That’s why some churches, such as Saint Sulpice in Paris, have sundials of sorts specifically set to indicate the day of the equinox.

I was touring Saint Sulpice with a group of journalists today when at precisely 1 p.m. (i.e. noon Greenwich Mean Time), we gathered around the altar railing to watch the a spot of sun, coming from a hole in the window of the southern transept (above left in this photo), reach a marker in front of the altar.

(Saint Sulpice, you may recall, is the church that was fictionalized by Dan Brown in the “Da Vinci Code.”)

Saint Sulpice has transparent windows since narrative stained glass was passé when the church was built in the 17^th century. The angle of that photo makes it appear that it was a bright out today, however it was in fact mostly cloudy in the early afternoon, with occasional bursts of sunlight. Despite the clouds we could make out the oval spot of sun moving across the marker.

The photo below was taken about two minutes after the magic moment. The spot of sun is that light rounded zone just above the marker. The line to either side of the marker is a meridian line.

Oddly enough there was no one else there to witness the passage of the equinox at this spot this year since. I can understand not being interested in a church, but aren’t people interested in the passage of time? Where was everyone? Upon leaving the church I could see that there are far more popular things to do in the Saint Sulpice quarter on a Saturday afternoon. One of them is to queue up for chocolates and/or pastries at the Pierre Hermé shop across the intersection.

To each his own use of his time.

Welcome to spring in the Northern Hemisphere.

– Text and photos GLK.

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