My first trip to Europe was in 1960. I was a bachelor who had just graduated from seminary and been ordained. I spent the summer exploring Europe.
I had heard about this little island a half mile off the coast of Normandy called Mont Saint-Michel, first established as a monastic shelter in 708 CE. On that trip, I immediately felt the magic not as a tourist destination but as a holy space—especially at the top, with the abbey, built in 1228, and magnificent Saint Michel statue, built in 1898. It is the ultimate in simplicity, with no decorations on the walls or ceiling and only an altar with a cross in the center of the church. I attended the noon mass and came away knowing that I had just experienced Holy.
My next trip back was in the 1990s, when Annie and I spent a night on the island. We attended noon mass and the 6:20 vespers. The island has a daily forty-foot tide variation, and watching it do its thing was magic. By five in the evening, almost all the thousands of tourists have left. Suddenly, everything was very quiet, and the many ramparts leading to the top offered magnificent views. To stand there and watch the sun drop below the horizon and witness the evening sky starting its light show was a transformative experience. The tranquility brings on that peace that passes all understanding. I knew that I was in the middle of Holy.
On October 9, 2024, Annie and I were in France and spent another night on the island. We went to vespers with twenty other tourists. Vespers is the last service of the day when the brothers and sisters sing goodnight to the world. We sat in a powerful silence, waiting for vespers to begin. The ceiling is forty feet high, lined with long, narrow windows. The simplicity of this building is stunning. The benches, with no backs, were hard, but the silent ambiance set the stage for transformation in so many ways.
As we entered, six nuns were on the left, and one brother was on the right. Then two more brothers came, soon joined by two more.
Quietly, one brother stood from his kneeling position. He spent a few moments readying himself and then started chanting. The sisters joined in with the other brothers. If I believed in heaven, I would call this a heavenly choir. The congregation was given an order of service, all in French. Even though the small congregation might not understand the words, one could sense them.
At one point, the last of daylight suddenly showed through a rear window, directly illuminating the brass cross on the altar. Unbelievable! It lasted for only a minute or two, but it was spectacular. More chanting followed. Next, a sister invited the congregation to sit down for the reading of a lesson, followed by her short homily. Other than that, we stood the entire time. After she finished, we stood for more chanting, and the service ended with a brother blessing the congregants.
One more time, I knew something special had just happened to me. I felt At-One-Ment with Creation. I can still feel it.
Have you ever had an experience like this? I hope so. It’s life-changing!
PeaceLoveJoyHopeKindness
Bil
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P.S. People often ask me provocative questions about current events, both religious and secular. I have found that some of these questions are being asked universally. I’ll be periodically alternating regular articles with one of those questions and my answer. I invite you to send me your question to bilaulenbach@yahoo.com.