Last Saturday, we took the day off to visit a special exhibit at Invalides, and then used the same tickets to see two churches which are connected, yet separate. This all goes back to the days when the French monarchs thought they needed their separate place both to enter a church and to worship in it. I know this had been a concern in many capital cities, partly for reasons of security, partly to maintain sharp divisions between social classes. More than one aristocrat was assassinated during Mass.
At Invalides, a place devoted to the military, including a place for wounded and maimed veterans, prayer and religion generally had been very important. After all, one wants to go into battle fully prepared to die, and at the same time, earnestly hoping for success in battle. The king would join his soldiers in worship, he in his special part of the church and they in theirs--on opposite sides of the high altar. These days, one can see through the glass which separates the two spaces (and now prevents voices in the one being heard by people in the other), but originally the Mass and singing could have been heard on both sides of the altar in earlier centuries. I'll start with photos showing what visitors can read (I'm showing only the English).
The flags (emblems) seem (to me) inappropriate, each coming from an army defeated by the French. I suppose it is a combination of nationalism and faith, but in ways that do not speak to us pacifists.
The day was not hot, but the circulation of a bit of air felt good. These windows had plain glazing, which admits more light than does coloured glass.
The top text reads, "Inter arma caritas" (In war, charity). Below we read that the plaque is honouring the nurses who tended to the French soldiers during World War I, 1914-1918.
This is the first time I have seen a sign asking men to remove their hats in a church. I wish all buildings had such signs, but then I'm getting old.
To the memory
of the 2,949 diocesan priests,
the 1,571 monks, 1,300 seminarians
fallen in the Field of Honour 1914-1918
and the 375 nuns who died while serving soldiers.
No need to repeat what the printed page says so well.
The dome is very light and airy, a magnificent expression of the return to older forms, clarity of lines, etc.
Below, we are looking from the dome through the gate (and glass), into the Soldiers Church.
Side 'chapels' hold other tombs of people unknown to me, even after I read their names.
The inlaid marble floors are so intricate. I have to wonder how well they will endure the thousands of feet daily.
What's left of Napoléon lies here. He was a significant transitional figure in French national history, but at costs in money and lives one can not fathom. Forget the pain, glamorize to the best of your ability, and one develops legendary figures. During his life, he was larger than life. It required at least a generation before the powers that be allowed honours to be bestowed on him memory once again.
As I finish writing this blog, we are finally having some rain. We got caught in out heavy cloudburst but managed to find a semi-sheltered side of a building for some protection. The downpour was impressive. We have nothing like it in Vancouver.
All for now, with love from us both,
Evan
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