During my last week in Paris, I was walking along rue de Vaugirard when a couple stopped me in the street.  In a very strong English accent, the guy asked me,

“Uuuuuuuuhhhh…. excusez-moi monsieur, est-ce… que… vous savez si…. uuuhhh… est-ce que… restaurants ici?”

In slightly broken French he was asking if there were any restaurants in the area.  I knew immediately from his accent that he was English, but as he’d spoken to me in French, I thought I should respond in French.

“Eh oui bien sur, il y’en a beaucoup ici.  Qu’est-ce que vous voudriez?”

My answer, “yes of course, there are lots of them here!  What would you like?”

The guy stuttered along, “uuuuhhhhh… un restaurant?”

I then said, “D’accord, mais quelle sorte de restaurant?” (Ok, but what kind of restaurant?)  The guy was really struggling to convey what he wanted in French, but all credit to him for trying.  I then said to him, “vous etes anglais, oui?  Je peux parle anglais aussi, si vous preferez?”  (You are English, yes?  I can speak English too, if you prefer?)

He seemed relieved, “Thank you!”

I told him, “There are lots of good restaurants nearby.  You want to head towards Montparnasse, it’s just over there - take the second left.  You’ll find lots of good bistros and independent French restaurants in the side streets.”

With a look of utter astonishment, he said, “Wow!  Your English is really good!”

“Thanks,” I replied.

“No really, your accent is amazing,” he told me.

“Thank you.  I am Scottish,” I said.

“Oh,” he replied, somewhat sheepishly.

Taken from Mark Driscoll’s blog…

In the lengthy time that Dr. J. I. Packer afforded me to speak with him while we were recently together in Orlando, I asked him which theological issues he would commend young Christian leaders to study in order to be prepared for the next fifty years. His list was quite insightful:

1. Regeneration — He said that the doctrine of regeneration has not been fully appreciated by many who do not understand that to be born again with a new heart and new nature means that we have at our deepest level a new identity and new passionate desires for God’s Word and ways. He commended to all young Christian leaders a thorough study on the doctrine of regeneration.

2. God-Centered Theology — He said that theology today is rife with man-centered thinking so that the glory of God in all things is not the essence of what is taught to be faithfully Christian. The result, he explained, is that even Christians often live their lives for the supreme purpose of their perceived happiness, feelings, and satisfaction. Yet, biblical Christianity differs from the other religions of the world in that the desires and purposes of God override ours; we are not the number one priority, but rather God is.

3. Godliness Begins at Home — This point was both surprising and refreshing. I was expecting only weighty and complicated theological admonition from such a theological giant. However, his wise counsel on this point is well needed. Packer said that most Christians do not take seriously the biblical teaching that true Christian living begins first at home with one’s spouse, children, and grandchildren. Therefore, he implored young Christian leaders to begin their quest for maturity and holiness at home in relationship with their family.

4. Trinity — Packer stated that the fullness of the doctrine of the Trinity is not completely appreciated as it should be. The result, he said, is that some Christians have only a deep understanding of Jesus or the Holy Spirit so that they are guilty of what he called “Jesus-olatry” or “Holy Spirit-olatry” rather than a full love and worshipful appreciation of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Spirit.

We went to see the new Batman film The Dark Knight at the weekend.  I was struck by two things.  First, Heath Ledger’s portrayal of the Joker was outstanding.  How tragic that cinema will be deprived of his sublime gifts in the future.

Secondly, The Dark Knight is yet further proof of how deeply the gospel has embedded itself in Western culture.  The great stories of our culture - stories which transcend the storytelling format (novel, oral tradition, cinema etc) and the particular generations within which stories are told - still echo the greatest story in our history; the story of Christ, the Saviour, simultaneously servant and leader, who is supremely good and who conquered the forces of evil, sin and death.

One of the major themes in The Dark Knight is that Gotham City is a moral mess, where everyone is touched by its fallenness.  The tone is set in the opening scene, a bank robbery where the robbers turn on each other.  It transpires that the bank is owned and run by the Mob.  Sin is everywhere.  Indeed, as the film develops, even Gotham’s self-produced White Knight, Harvey Dent, is dragged down by the power of evil.  It becomes apparent that even the police cannot be trusted as wholly good.  Gotham is a place of total (though not absolute) depravity.

However, in The Dark Knight, Batman stands out.  When Rachel Dawes (played by Maggie Gyllenhaal) realises that the police have also been corrupted, Batman is the only person she can trust.  His home is the only safe place in Gotham. 

The film climaxes in an act of penal substitution; when Harvey Dent (who represents Gotham’s attempt to redeem itself) changes into the evil Two Face and becomes a murderer, Batman allows himself to bear Dent’s stigma as a murderer.  His attitude of servanthood towards Gotham is absolute.  “I’ll be whatever Gotham needs me to be.”  He takes the blame for Dent’s crimes; a small boy (whose life Batman has just saved) makes the telling statement, “but he [Batman] didn’t do anything wrong!”  Nevertheless, Batman becomes accursed for the city he loves.

It is a compelling story and, I have to say, a surprisingly good film.  Nevertheless, it is fantasy and fiction.  Its elements are gripping, but far from life changing.  However, the greater story (and cultural metanarrative) it echoes is infinitely better.  Two thousand years ago, the greatest story happened in reality.  In a world of darkness and moral chaos, the only sinless person substituted himself for the world he loved and bore the punishment for our sin.  That story changed my life.

I watched the Bastille Day fireworks from here.

I saw this at Uni one day. In the UK, the iPod most certainly would have walked.

The Mairie in the 6th Arrondissement, where the fête internationale was held.

The programme for the fête internationale.

Mise a seinn orain Gaidhlig.

J'aime mon quartier (I love my quarter). If only more dog owning Parisians loved their quarters.

Spot the Franglais! I have no idea who the Little Rabbits are, but this is a good example of a very French error when writing in English.

There was a wigshop next to my residence. The startling thing was how many of the dummy heads looked like Michael Jackson.

Paris even has its own Sraid a' Bhac!

Saint James.

The view from my window on rue de Vaugirard.

Trumpet playing minstrels viewed from my bedroom window.

 

This was my room on rue de Vaugirard. Stunning marble fireplace and nice parquet flooring.

Delicious Parisian chocolates.

Ah Paris, je t’aime…

I am now back from Paris.  That, however, does not mean that the blog posts on France will stop!  I have a lot of thoughts from my time there; thoughts I would like to develop on the blog, in terms of missiology, linguistics etc.  Also when I get my camera hooked up, I plan on uploading some photographs as well.

For now, a brief reflection on a practical difficulty of being a Protestant, Reformed, conservative evangelical Christian in France.

In France, je suis chretien (I am a Christian) means I am Roman Catholic.  That is fine if you happen to be Roman Catholic; but if your theology falls on the other side of the Reformation fence, it will not suffice.

However, should you say je suis evangelique (I am an evangelical), that to French ears means either I am a Lutheran (which is not necessarily a bad thing!) or I am in a cult (which is very bad).  The French perspective on evangelicalism is that it is American (rather than European) and that is heretical.  It has all the negative connotations of George W. Bush etc.  As an Anglophone, think of your natural reaction when someone tells you “I am a Mormon/Jehovah’s Witness/Scientologist”.  That is how many French people react if you say that you are evangelical.

However, even saying je suis reforme (I am Reformed) is complicated.  First, for many French people, that means nothing.  There is only the Roman Catholic Church.  The notion of there being another Church is bizarre.  Particularly for a totally unchurched, secular French person, to say you belong to the Reformed Church is often meaningless.  Secondly, the Eglise Reformee Francaise is largely very liberal.  So if you say that you are reforme to a churched (usually Roman Catholic) French person, the implication is that you are a liberal, you do not believe the Bible is true, you do not believe in the miracles, the virgin birth, the resurrection and so on.

As an example of this, while in Lyon, I visited the Basillica with Alex Sarran.  The Basillica is a huge idol-fest to Mary (Lyon is full of Mariolatry as she is believed to have saved the city from the plague in the Middle Ages).  Sadly, her son hardly gets a mention.  While there, we got chatting to a woman who worked in the building.  We told her that we were Protestant Christians.  Her first question was mais est-ce que vous respectez la vierge Marie? (But do you respect the Virgin Mary?)  Her immediate assumption was that as we were French speaking Protestants, we did not believe in the virgin birth.

So, even saying that je suis reforme is very complicated and carries a lot of negative baggage.

Je suis presbyterien means nothing to the people.  Je suis Calvinist might mean something if the person is interested in history.

The lack of language within which to express a Reformed, conservative, evangelical, Protestant Christianity in French is challenging.  I suppose it reflects the general lack of Christian infrastructure throughout the nation and culture.

I had not intended to post anything after my final post from Paris, but I heard a great illustration regarding the French that I thought was worth sharing.

While in Lyon, I met an American Christian couple who study and work in the city.  I asked them how they had found the process of integrating into French culture, as foreigners (and particularly as Americans).  Their astute assessment was that Americans are like peaches, whereas the French are like coconuts.

With a peach, the outside is soft and very easy to penetrate.  Meet Americans and you have an instant openness and rapport.  We hardly know you; but sure, come over to dinner tonight, bring your family with you! However, once you quickly get through the soft exterior of the peach, you find that the core is rock solid.  According to my American friends, Americans are like that.  It is relatively easy to make “buddies”, but much harder to form deep, personal relationships within which (for example) one can talk openly and seriously about things of real importance.

With a coconut, the outside is practically impenetrable.  To get through the shell, you need a drill or a hammer (or in this instance, a lot of love)!  However, once you get through the shell, the inside is completely open.  The French can be very much like this.  Your relationship begins by addressing each other as vous.  If and when a person decides to say, tu peux me tutoyer (you can use tu and toi with me), the relationship becomes a bit closer.  (A lot of French young people are a bit more peach-like in this regard and use tu et toi from the beginning though).  That said, you can still be tapping on the outside of the coconut for a long time before you find yourself in the open space inside.

It is a great illustration.  It made me think of the last time I made the effort to get into a (literal) coconut.  I wanted its milk and flesh for a thai green curry.  I had to saw through the coconut to get into it.  It was a lot of work but my goodness, it was worth it.  Thai green curry with fresh coconut milk and flesh is far, far better than thai green curry straight from a jar.

Sometimes the best things are worth the effort.

1 My time in Paris is almost finished. I have now finished my language course, passed some exams and obtained a diploma in la langue français, which is nice! This month has been a tremendous learning experience. Total immersion is by far the best way to learn a language. That said, it has been a tiring way to spend my summer holidays, and I will be glad to get home to the world of Gaelic and English.

2 At the weekend, I took a trip south to visit Lyon, where my friends Alex and Suzanne Sarran live. Alex is the pastor of the Église Réformée Évangélique de Lyon, which is a very exciting French church plant. I loved being there on Sunday. They have la Sainte Céne (communion) every Sunday! That’s what I call Calvinism!

It was great to spend time with some dear friends and finally get to visit Lyon. If Paris is France’s (much more beautiful) London, Lyon is its Edinburgh: big, but not enormous; culturally diverse whilst retaining its national identity. An Edinburger can feel quite comfortable there.

Alex is exactly the kind of guy Free Church (and Scottish) Christians should be interested in. He has the great gift of being 100% Scottish, which makes you a blessing whichever country you are in. As such, he is one of our own; Scottish Christians should be praying for his work.

In addition, he has the huge privilege of being 100% French, which is a huge asset in Francophone church planting.

3 I have been fascinated by the response I have received when I tell French people that je suis écossais. They really love us! Eh tu es écossais! Super! I had anticipated this with the Breton people, as we are fellow Celts and speak related languages. Breton people feel a very close kinship with the Welsh, Irish and the Scots; and when you tell them that you can actually speak Gaelic, they love you even more. Interestingly, some missionary friends were telling me that Welsh missionaries (who speak Welsh, which is very similar to Breton) have historically had far more success in Brittany than French missionaries.

What I had not anticipated, however, was that the non-Breton French also seem to love les écossais. The French feel strongly that they will not be the poodle of any greater empire. Perhaps they like the Scots because we are not a big, culturally threatening imperalistic force? Je ne sais pas.

A few people had told me beforehand that a lot of French people would simply assume that I was English, and that they would be a bit clueless as to the difference. However, I have yet to meet anyone like that in Paris, Nantes or Lyon.

4 When I was in the British school system, someone had the bright idea that we did not actually need to be taught English grammar; the idea being that we would simply acquire English by virture of living in the UK. True, we did learn English and can speak with decent grammar… but ask us to explain how our language works (or try to teach us how another language works) and there are big problems. For example, when I was at the Free Church College, our first week of New Testament Greek was taken up with learning English grammar. We were all university graduates, but none of us knew it well, and without knowing English grammar, learning Greek is impossible.

Ask your typical Brit, can you tell me how the subjunctive works? and he, if he is aged thirty or under, will have no idea what “the subjunctive” is. He has probably never heard the word before. My experience of the French has, thus far, been the exact opposite. A few times, in cafes, parks and on public transport, I have asked the person next to me for the meaning of a French word (while reading a book or newspaper) and have received amazing explanations of the intricacies of French grammar.

That said, while the French know their own grammar, they nonetheless admit that they are not great when it comes to learning other languages.

5 At the weekend, I had my first dream in French. It was weird. In the dream, I was in a church and met a man who was looking for a woman called Evita. The man was English (and spoke with a Midlands accent) and he was asking me (in English) if I knew Evita, where Evita was etc… In the dream, I answered everything he asked, but in French rather than English. C’était vraiment bizarre.

6 I will miss a lot of things about life here. I will miss the pioneer church plants (which is something we need far more of in Scotland) and the general sense of purpose in these churches. France does not like the gospel; life is really hard for pastors here. Ministry is an uphill struggle, and to engage and sustain a ministry here, you need a clear sense of call, a well defined awareness of what you are doing (and why) and abundant reliance on the God of the gospel.

I have been amazed in the presence of faithful French pastors. I have also felt not a little ashamed when I see their spiritual vitality (in challenging conditions) which far outshines my own. I have realised that spiritually I am unfit and flabby - these guys are the real spiritual soldiers. They work hard in difficult contexts.

Faith grows during persecution - and France is a land of persecution. The result is some very winsome, Christ-like pastors in this great nation. I have been privileged to meet people whose victors’ crowns, on the Last Day, will shine far more brightly than my own.

I will also miss being able to speak French with everyone. It is a wonderful language (and one so accessible to native English speakers… why don’t more of us learn it?) and I am thoroughly enjoying the chance to see the world through French linguistic glasses.

Needless to say, I will miss the quality of food and wine, and with that the general appreciation for culture and the arts. France is such a strange cocktail of the incredibly good (beautiful country and language, culture, lifestyle etc) and the unbelievably bad (the spiritual deadness and darkness). For the former, God clearly showers much common grace on France and the French. With the latter, I pray that God will shower special grace on France and redeem this magnificent nation.

Que Dieu bénisse la France beaucoup!

Last night, I saw Le Monde de Narnia: Chapitre 2, Prince Caspian.  It is much more action oriented than The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.  I suspect that CS Lewis might be a bit disappointed with this rendition.  They also departed from the book by adding some tension between Peter and Caspian, which seemed unnecessary.

It is funny to hear the Pevensie kids’ names pronounced à la française.  ‘Ed-moond’ doesn’t really work in French.  Still, the Ritpichip character suits being French.  Weirdly, the English original voiceover was provided by Eddie Izzard, who speaks pretty good French (the irony of Izzard playing a mouse in French is almost unbelievable), but alas, they replaced Monsieur Izzard with a French voice.  Also, wikipedia informs me that David Walliams (of Little Britain fame) provided one of the original voices.  Bizarre!

Anyway, as skeptical as most French people are of Protestantism (and Christianity in general), they are certainly flocking to see the Chronicles of Narnia - no doubt largely unaware that it was written by a Christian (who converted from atheism).  It is interesting to see how CS Lewis is being salt and light in French culture en ce moment.  I have heard a couple of French sermons recently that have quoted CS Lewis; hopefully the Narnia films can provide a gateway for Lewis (and his Christianity) into French culture.