21st Century Paris: Monasteries & Cathedrals

Wandering around Paris brings many delightful surprises both historical and contemporary. I appreciate the presence of history in the throes of daily living, as well as the skill at which the French transform historical elements into useful new spaces. It’s an overlapping of time and place that allows a feeling of connection to thrive—connection to our shared past, and our shared present. Aged Catholic monasteries and cathedrals have an especially diligent presence in Paris.

In the 5^th arrondissement, on Rue de Vaugirard, I stumbled upon the doorway to the Monestere de la Visitation, which is very austere and run-down, but scaffolding is visible beyond the wall, a heralding of rehabilitation.

On Rue du Bac, down a cobblestone lane is La Chapelle Notre-Dame de la Medaille Miraculeuse (Chapel of Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal) where a stunning chapel exists to honor the Virgin and the exhumed body of Saint Catherine, the nun that entered the convent there in 1830 and is said to have had visionary apparitions of instruction from the Virgin Mother. People travel there on pilgrimage from all over the globe and Parisians come throughout their regular day for what seemed like the liturgy of the hours. But even for someone without any interest in Catholic lore, the chapel makes for a welcoming, spirited space for rest and contemplation.

On Rue du Poissy sits an amazing old Cistercian (historically a very strict order) monastery now transformed into Le College des Bernardins, a place for inter-religious conversation, thought, research, and community. The large refurbished nave, with a web of arches, exists as both the entry and a place for art performances and exhibits. A tiny and very simplified meditation room sits tucked in the corner, open for any and all to reflect or pray quietly. Beyond this space is the college itself, with classrooms, libraries, etc.—creating a vibrant institute for intellectual and spiritual dialogue.

And in La Marais, near the Centre Pompidou, is an old run-down cathedral—St. Merri—dirtied by centuries of city air, having survived World War II, having stood unmoved among us and our ancestors, which hosts free classical concerts twice every weekend. It’s freezing inside in the winter, with no heat and very little sun penetrating the foggy stained glass, but all the seats fill for high quality music performances; the thunder of a piano or the cry of the violin echoing through the stone corridor.