An American In Paris

An American In Paris - Part One
by Jennifer King, Managing Editor

July 2, 2003

First of Two Parts

"The Heretical Housewife"

Managing Editor Jennifer King While working on this article I intended to write a humorous travelogue which would touch on some of the great tourist destinations as well as provide a sense of where Europe is going today and how they differ from America.

An incident occurred which made me change my mind. I will, instead, talk about cathedrals.

The cathedrals are magnificent, enormous and ornate. In England, we admired the Gothic cathedrals of Westminster Abbey, with its stunning arches and flying buttresses. We journeyed out and observed the vast cathedral at Salisbury, whose chapter house is home to an original copy of the Magna Carta (which dates back to 1215).

In France, we marveled at the intricacies of the statues and gargoyles of Notre Dame. We scoured the tales told in the wondrous stained glass windows at Sainte-Chapelle. We noted the beautiful elaborately painted dome above the nave at Sacre’Coure de Montmartre. We journeyed out again and were awed by the serene beauty of the cathedral at Chartres, said to be the largest in Europe.

These cathedrals, with their radiant statues of saints, their devout expression of the Old Testament and their depictions of the life of Christ are beyond description. Yet, beyond a few pious pilgrims praying in the corners, they were empty. Their beauty attests to a time when Christianity was paramount in Europe - when the richness, fullness and miraculous ness of God being made flesh, dwelling among us and dying for our sins in order to reconcile us to Him was acknowledged, appreciated and worshipped.

Great kings, saints and martyrs are buried within the cathedral walls and under their floors. Their stones have worn into smooth grooves by the feet of the faithful. Their artwork is phenomenal, their choirs heavenly - but they sing to few but the endless tourists.

The raging debate currently occurring within the EU speaks to this divide. The Euros cannot decide whether to include mention of Christianity within the vaguely sinister agreement which unites the varied nations of the continent. Yet to exclude Christianity is to historically revise the entire history - one might even say greatness - of the West. Europe’s most moving artworks, its most wondrous architecture, many of its greatest novels are devoted to Christianity. To exclude it is politically correct folly at its worst.

Europe appears to be caught up in a post modernist meltdown. The intelligensia, besides renaming BC (Before Christ) and AD (Anno Domini) to the more palatable BCE (Before Common Era) and CE (Common Era), are always on the prowl to dismantle Western Civilization and its’ heritage. This is why they sneer at us, the provincial Americans, who haven’t figured out that we don’t need Him yet. Provincial Americans can be forgiven for believing that the Euros, ignorant in their decline, are not realizing why.

Americans are still generally more faithful than the Continentals, though our humble churches lack the awesome grandeur of their cathedrals. Secularism, however, is easier than devotion and it is promoted ferociously by our cultural zealots. Oftentimes, our we find outselves - nominally Christian - relegated to attending church but twice a year, the Christmas and Easter visits, with half hearted attempts over the other 10 months. Until we need Him, the Healer, the Great Counselor. Then, our hearts burn for grace. We implore, we beg, we bargain - as if the Great Almighty might have need of our services, or care if we forego our daily ham and cheese in order that He might listen.

We are all fallen souls, deeply in need of redemption, yet we go about our lives and listen little to the holy within us. Until we need Him.

This week, our lifelong friend’s son met the short end of a darkened pool, at night. He is paralyzed from the neck down, although the prognosis is not without hope. He has just turned 17.

We all have done - and surely will do stupid things within our lives, but they rarely result in our living our lifetimes in a wheelchair. Our hearts rail against the injustice - a young man, an honor student, a great athlete, a life cut to ribbons in moments. A man who may now never know the joys of holding his wife’s hand, tossing his baby in the air, swimming, surfing, running - ever again. At 17.

At these times we appeal to God, even while we are angry with Him for it happening. Yet, God does work miracles in our age, some I can attest to personally, such as my niece, Lilly’s miraculous recovery - at age 2 - from a childhood cancer which claims a 75% fatality rate. Lilly was fervently prayed for by people of many dominations. Surely nothing is beyond the abilities of a Man who not only raised people from the dead, but was raised Himself.

Europe may have forgotten her destiny, she may disregard the source from whence her great power came. Someday, her cathedrals may be reinhabited by the pagans whom she dislodged. I hope not. Likewise, I hope that America never forgets - despite the tireless efforts of the Left - from where her greatness comes. For awhile now, we have seen signs that the American people, especially after September 11th, do remember and are grateful.

Let us hope the trend continues.

For those who would like to add their intonations to the circles of prayer, our friend’s son’s name is Travis Robinson and he lives in Salem, Oregon. Thank you, and God Bless. ***

Photo of Jennifer King courtesy of staff files