The day three, another outstanding breakfast at our hotel. The French feature of flakey, buttery pastry and fresh fruit, plus a charcuterie board is impossible to beat by my breakfast standards. My standard of what makes a good breakfast has been elevated.

Today is Sunday. We arrived at the church of Saint Augustin, where the Fox Valley Festival Chorus was to participate in a mass. I have included a few photos of the church exterior and interior. St. Augustine was the first doctor (theoretician) of the Catholic church. I ought to ‘confess’ that I am not Catholic, so the soaring architecture, and the stagecraft of priestly vestments tends not move me with inspiration. I do appreciate the artistry of the luminescent depiction of a bible stories in stained glass as an aesthetic experience. And that alone is enough for me.

The mass at Eglise Saint-Augustin lasted for an hour and a half. It was the old Latin rite mass which in America is now uncommon. For American Catholics Vatican II changed the mass making it more in the language commonly spoken and leaving behind the old Latin. Clearly the French prefer the old ways. Our tour guide explained to me that construction of the church was commissioned the Napoleon III when Paris was rebuilt in the aftermath of the revolution. This mid 19th century church is new by French standards. Anything less than 500 years old is considered “new.”

The second half of the day featured a visit to yet another church, the Eglise de La Madeleine, of even greater architectural magnificence. At this venue the chorus performed an evening concert as a part of the American Celebration of Music in France. The interesting feature of this church is the claim to possess a relic coming from Mary Magdaline, a figure in the stories of Jesus. As impressive as was the presentation of this relic in the chapel dedicated for that purpose, – I could not overcome my scepticism. Somehow it seems disingenuous, even craven to engender religious devotion by purveying what has to be deception. Scepticism notwithstanding, ‘no harm and no foul’ in my case as I am not Catholic. Despite the incredulous aspect the church as a dimension of Paris architecture was magnificent. The high altar at the front of the sanctuary defied description as a sculpted depiction of events derived from the imagination sparked by the New Testament. 

The concert could not have gone better. The Sunday evening crowd gave an extended applause. On the steps of the church three female adults who were members of the choir there described for Laura and I how they felt when a particular piece of the performance was delivered. Another encounter with Parisians that caused me to want to learn French even more.

Enjoy the photos. Tomorrow we are off to Chartres.