Day 37h: A more than holy Holiness … (05/21/20190
I was feeling slow and tired this afternoon and as a result the final few kilometers down Down DOWN into Seyssel are some of the longest I have ever walked … Upon arriving, I headed to the local Gite hoping for some respite (if not some outright refuge) and yet it proved to be a middle school that only served as a hostel for larger groups on weekends. I engaged the ogling students there in some amicable banter about my Walk before heading onward, very tired and ever-more-skeptical about my chances to receive assistance in this somewhat larger city. And yet I didn’t have to walk far before a local woman asked me where I was headed. I told her about my pilgrimage and said I was looking for the local church’s parish in the hopes of finding a place to sleep for the night and she immediately began making phone call after phone call on my behalf. Soon thereafter a nice man (Francois, the owner of a local wine bar) ambled up and claimed he could help. I was overjoyed at first at his ostensible display of kindness, and yet my joy soon turned to dismay when his “help” manifested itself in speaking to me jovially for a few minutes before dropping me off at the back door of the local locked-up Catholic church and bidding me adieu with a less-than-heartfelt “Good luck” … :O
I passed a local homeless man who was napping on site as I climbed the staircase that led up to the parish’s rear entrance, and knocked loudly while praying for anyone to answer. Father Nestor (from the Ivory Coast) did indeed eventually answer, and yet he did so with a shocking degree of skepticism that bordered on outright unfriendliness. It didn’t help matters that I spoke no functional French and that Nestor understood neither English nor German, and our conversation quickly became bogged down in a ridiculously ineffective display of comical hand gestures (much to the loud amusement of my home-free Friend) as I tried in vain to explain both my pilgrimage in general and my wish for a bed (or even a space on the church floor) for the night.
Sensing that I was not a common beggar (Should it have made any difference for a supposed Man of God?), he eventually invited me inside and gave me a glass of water while he went into an adjoining room to phone the local Bishop to ask for guidance on the matter. And yet I heard Nestor chatting with some of his friends soon thereafter and then listened as he watched TV while eating his dinner, and I wondered if it wouldn’t be better for me to just leave and try to spend the night hiding out in the church proper. And yet I was so tired (and relatively comfortable sitting in the kitchen chair he had offered me) that I ended up falling asleep on the spot instead … :O
Many minutes (or was it hours?) later Nestor finally reached the Bishop who gave the OK for me to spend the night in the parish — a large building that turned out to be absolutely filled with empty bedrooms ( :O ) … A shower wasn’t offered (and I wasn’t about to ask for one) and yet Nestor brought me some clean sheets and a warm blanket for my room’s cozy bed, and it didn’t take long at all for me to change my clothes and fall into a deep, gratitude-laden sleep … 😀
“I have said many things to you in figures of speech. And yet the hour is soon coming when I will no longer speak to you in metaphors & symbols, but will instead clearly show you the Love of the Father.” ~ via Jesus Christ (John 16:25)
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