The fury of the French Revolution had destroyed the magnificent Gothic Church of Notre Dame des Accoules in 1794 which had served the people of Marseille since 1205 (and as a parish from the 10th century). All that remained standing was the bell tower and the wall of the sanctuary against the rock face of the hill. It was a stark reminder of how a mob had lost sight of the positive values that the Revolution had stood for and in the wanton destruction effaced everything that could have given their lives a lasting sense of direction.
Twenty five years later, in the mission preached in 1820, Eugene’s Missionaries of Provence and Forbin Janson’s Missionaries of France had aimed at restoring the faith of the inhabitants of Marseille and at helping them to rebuild their lives on Christian principles. Each mission ended with the erection of a mission cross as a permanent reminder of these days of grace. Significantly they chose the remaining wall of the destroyed church as the place to erect the large mission crucifix.
Yvon Beaudoin explains:
Charles de Forbin-Janson, the superior of the great mission preached in Marseilles in 1820, in his usual hasty and efficient manner, chose this site for raising the huge mission cross. In only a few days he had collected some 60,000 francs, had the place cleaned up and constructed a small hill which portrayed Calvary and, below it, a grotto which represented the holy Sepulchre. An iron grill enclosed the site. Many Marseilles people frequented this place.
“Marseilles, Le Calvaire” in Oblate Historical Dictionary, Volume 1 http://www.omiworld.org/dictionary.asp?v=5&vol=1&let=M&ID=813. (You can also see some photographs on this site)
In 1821 it was a site of pilgrimage and prayer and so the Diocesan authorities asked Eugene to take over the responsibility of this symbolic place. It was a place that was to play an important role in the history of the Oblates.
“How splendid the cross of Christ! It brings life, not death; light, not darkness; paradise, not its loss. It is the wood on which the Lord, like a great warrior, was wounded in hands and feet and side, but healed thereby our wounds. A tree had destroyed us; a tree now brought us life.” Theodore of Studios
Oh dear, another of those mornings – when I read todays offering it was all al little slow in coming and I needed to sit with it. The hill of Calvary in Marseilles. But again today it is loaded and I will most likely have to return to this conversation a few times to be able to reflect more fully.
This church which had been all but destroyed becomes a corner stone, a base for the cross and a place that would become a very important part of Oblate history. This place of ruins, where once there had been beauty, and signs of goodness and piety, but which was overtaken by rage and senseless destruction that was fuelled by fear and hate – this place becomes a cornerstone, a place of new beginnings and life and a place to mark conversion and transformation. It has become the living story of our salvation. It is symbolic of our lives, or at least mine.
I have long loved the Cross. It is a symbol of incalcuable pain and suffering, of darkness and despair, death and destruction, of loss and of humanity run amok. But it is also a symbol of incredible compassion and consolation, of conversion and transformation. It is hope and trust, it is the true picture of love. Is it any wonder that we grasp it, touch and caress it. It becomes the living symbol of who we are in God.
Today shall I sit at the foot of it, or will I allow You to lift me up onto it?