Cistercians

To Sunday morning mass at Cîteaux. As far as I could make out, the sermon was about the persecution of Christians throughout the world. Christians of various persuasions have done their fair share of persecuting down the ages but nowadays they (we) are exclusively on the receiving end. Not here in western Europe, of course, where Roman Catholicism is an appeased creed, at ease with itself and its surroundings. It is refreshing to see people from all walks of life congregating together, with far less attention paid to correct “Sunday” attire than when I was a boy. The Church appears more social and less society than in the post-war years, by which I mean open to all, NOT singing and clapping in the aisles! What a ghastly thought!

Speaking of Cîteaux reminds me that perhaps the finest example of the true meaning of the mass I have ever seen was when I attended a mass at the Chartreuse in Dijon. The congregation consisted of inmates from the institution's psychiatric wards: the lost, the tormented, the sick at heart.

Cîteaux itself is historically significant but otherwise fairly unremarkable, unlike its sister abbey of Sénanque surrounded by lavender fields at the foot of the Lubéron hills.

Sénanque Abbey