Since his election, Pope Leo XIV, born Robert Prévost, of French-Canadian descent, has shown a particular affection for French Catholics and for the eldest daughter of the Church—an attitude that contrasts with that of his predecessor, who dismissed the reopening of Notre-Dame, or who considered that by going to Marseille, he was not coming to France. In contrast, Pope Leo is delivering a message of the utmost importance: the land of France, rich in saints of the finest calibre, still has a specific message to convey to the world.
Shortly after his election, Pope Leo unveiled his papal coat of arms. In the magnificent language of heraldry, it is described as follows: “Per bend sinister azure and argent, in the first, a fleur-de-lis argent, in the second, a heart enflamed pierced by an arrow bendwise sinister, all gules, upon a book proper.” For ordinary mortals, the fleur-de-lis on the left is a Marian symbol, while on the right, the pierced heart on a book refers to the Augustinian order, from which the pontiff comes, and which took this emblem in memory of the conversion of Saint Augustine, which he explained with the words “Vulnerasti cor meum verbo tuo,” “You have pierced my heart with your Word.”
But for the French, this coat of arms takes on a special meaning. The fleur-de-lis is, of course, the emblem of the monarchy. It is also the emblem of Québec, a province that was once the very Catholic land of New France. As for the pierced heart, it inevitably evokes the Sacred Heart of Jesus, as it appeared in the 17th century to Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque, a Visitation nun from Burgundy, whose mission was to urge Louis XIV to add it to the arms of the Kingdom of France—to no avail.
This is not a vain and gratuitous extrapolation on our part, intended to flatter the pride—immeasurable, as everyone knows—of the Gallic spirit. It is a fact: Pope Leo XIV clearly has a special relationship with France, which he made a point of mentioning in two of the very first acts of his pontificate.
On May 24th, he appointed two cardinals, Cardinal Sarah and Cardinal Bustillo, as special envoys of the Vatican to France. Cardinal Sarah is responsible for presiding over the liturgical celebrations to be held at the great Breton sanctuary of Sainte-Anne-d’Auray, on the occasion of the 400th anniversary of the apparitions of Saint Anne to the Breton peasant Yvon Nicolazic, while Cardinal Bustillo is to represent the Pope on the 350th anniversary of the apparition of the Sacred Heart to Saint Margaret Mary in Paray-le-Monial. The choice of these two figures—cardinals well known to the public and endowed with great charisma—testifies to the importance the Pope attaches to these public celebrations.
In addition to these two events, on May 28th the Pope published a letter addressed to Catholics in France. In a text of great historical and spiritual depth, he invited them to rediscover the meaning of their mission. To this end, he recalled the memory of three great saints: Saint John Eudes (1601-1680), who worked to spread devotion to the Sacred Heart; Saint John Mary Vianney (1786-1859), who devoted himself to reviving the faith after the turmoil of the Revolution; and Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus and of the Holy Face (1873-1897), whose centenary of canonisation is being celebrated this year.
Pope Leo XIV knows his history: France is perhaps one of the countries that, along with Spain, has provided the greatest number of missionaries to the Catholic Church throughout the world. Today, he invites the country to follow in the footsteps of these three missionaries of a special kind, who did not need to cross oceans to conquer hearts. Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, secondary patron saint of France, is also the patron saint of the missions of the universal Church—without ever having left her little Carmel convent in Lisieux.
Today, mission has become a dirty word. We should no longer convert, but offer the faith from afar, without insisting. The new pontiff does not seem to agree. Is mission not the most beautiful response to the identity crisis facing Western societies, which no longer know how to make themselves loved by all those they welcome indiscriminately? Pope Leo XIV knows well why he is addressing the Church of France. France, a land of missionaries, is today what is called a mission land, and its children are the first to be (re)converted. There is much to be done in the country of Joan of Arc and the Declaration of Human Rights, of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux and the French Revolution.
Leo XIV uses words that were thought to have been banned since Pope Francis: culture, community, heritage. He reminds us that the universalism of faith is not a denial of identity. France has, written deep in its DNA, the makings of a true spiritual awakening: “Saints do not appear spontaneously but, by grace, arise from living Christian communities that have known how to transmit the faith to them, to kindle in their hearts the love of Jesus and the desire to follow him. This Christian heritage still belongs to you, it still deeply permeates your culture and remains alive in many hearts”, he said to the French.
Such words are reminiscent of the vibrant appeal made by John Paul II to the French people during his first visit to France in 1980, two years after his election. With his inimitable Polish accent, he rebuked the crowd of faithful gathered before him, calling them with firmness and tenderness to wake up: “France, eldest daughter of the Church, are you faithful to the promises of your baptism? Allow me to ask you: France, daughter of the Church and educator of peoples, are you faithful, for the good of humanity, to the covenant with eternal wisdom?”
On Sunday, July 27th, during the celebrations for the jubilee of Sainte-Anne-d’Auray, Cardinal Robert Sarah was present to relay this appeal to the faithful who had gathered en masse at this important place of popular Breton faith. Thirty thousand faithful congregated to revive a centuries-old tradition known as the ‘Grand Pardon.’
Even if, “apparently, God is no longer there. And for Europe, God is dead,” Pope Leo’s envoy called on France, and through it, Europe, to a spiritual awakening, at a time when abortion and euthanasia have been elevated to a national cause:
God has chosen France to be a holy land, a land reserved for God. Do not desecrate France with your barbaric and inhuman laws that advocate death when God advocates life. Do not desecrate France, for it is a holy land, a land reserved for God.
Denouncing the humanitarian obsession with which Europe today is trying to buy a clear conscience by welcoming migrants with open arms, he recalled that the social response was not the key to human happiness:
Religion is not a question of food or humanitarian action. In the desert, this was the first temptation that Jesus rejected: to redeem humanity, we must overcome the misery of hunger and all the misery of poverty, which is what the devil offers the Lord. But Jesus replied: this is not the way to redemption. We must understand that even if all men had enough to eat and prosperity extended to all, humanity would not be redeemed.
For Cardinal Sarah, who delivered his sermon with rare intensity, this does not mean giving in to despair. Adoration of God remains the most powerful response to the attacks of evil. France’s immense spiritual legacy continues to convey its message of hope to the world. In June in Chartres and in Paray-le-Monial, in July in Sainte-Anne-d’Auray, tens of thousands of faithful came to prove to the world that the message of John Paul II had been heard, and that Leo XIV’s call will not go unanswered.
Pope Leo and the French Mission
Thousands of Catholics attend the “Grand Pardon” religious procession on July 26, 2016 in Sainte-Anne-d’Auray, western France. This Catholic pilgrimage, which exists since 1625, is the most important of Brittany.
Jean-Sebastien Evrarde / AFP
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Since his election, Pope Leo XIV, born Robert Prévost, of French-Canadian descent, has shown a particular affection for French Catholics and for the eldest daughter of the Church—an attitude that contrasts with that of his predecessor, who dismissed the reopening of Notre-Dame, or who considered that by going to Marseille, he was not coming to France. In contrast, Pope Leo is delivering a message of the utmost importance: the land of France, rich in saints of the finest calibre, still has a specific message to convey to the world.
Shortly after his election, Pope Leo unveiled his papal coat of arms. In the magnificent language of heraldry, it is described as follows: “Per bend sinister azure and argent, in the first, a fleur-de-lis argent, in the second, a heart enflamed pierced by an arrow bendwise sinister, all gules, upon a book proper.” For ordinary mortals, the fleur-de-lis on the left is a Marian symbol, while on the right, the pierced heart on a book refers to the Augustinian order, from which the pontiff comes, and which took this emblem in memory of the conversion of Saint Augustine, which he explained with the words “Vulnerasti cor meum verbo tuo,” “You have pierced my heart with your Word.”
But for the French, this coat of arms takes on a special meaning. The fleur-de-lis is, of course, the emblem of the monarchy. It is also the emblem of Québec, a province that was once the very Catholic land of New France. As for the pierced heart, it inevitably evokes the Sacred Heart of Jesus, as it appeared in the 17th century to Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque, a Visitation nun from Burgundy, whose mission was to urge Louis XIV to add it to the arms of the Kingdom of France—to no avail.
This is not a vain and gratuitous extrapolation on our part, intended to flatter the pride—immeasurable, as everyone knows—of the Gallic spirit. It is a fact: Pope Leo XIV clearly has a special relationship with France, which he made a point of mentioning in two of the very first acts of his pontificate.
On May 24th, he appointed two cardinals, Cardinal Sarah and Cardinal Bustillo, as special envoys of the Vatican to France. Cardinal Sarah is responsible for presiding over the liturgical celebrations to be held at the great Breton sanctuary of Sainte-Anne-d’Auray, on the occasion of the 400th anniversary of the apparitions of Saint Anne to the Breton peasant Yvon Nicolazic, while Cardinal Bustillo is to represent the Pope on the 350th anniversary of the apparition of the Sacred Heart to Saint Margaret Mary in Paray-le-Monial. The choice of these two figures—cardinals well known to the public and endowed with great charisma—testifies to the importance the Pope attaches to these public celebrations.
In addition to these two events, on May 28th the Pope published a letter addressed to Catholics in France. In a text of great historical and spiritual depth, he invited them to rediscover the meaning of their mission. To this end, he recalled the memory of three great saints: Saint John Eudes (1601-1680), who worked to spread devotion to the Sacred Heart; Saint John Mary Vianney (1786-1859), who devoted himself to reviving the faith after the turmoil of the Revolution; and Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus and of the Holy Face (1873-1897), whose centenary of canonisation is being celebrated this year.
Pope Leo XIV knows his history: France is perhaps one of the countries that, along with Spain, has provided the greatest number of missionaries to the Catholic Church throughout the world. Today, he invites the country to follow in the footsteps of these three missionaries of a special kind, who did not need to cross oceans to conquer hearts. Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, secondary patron saint of France, is also the patron saint of the missions of the universal Church—without ever having left her little Carmel convent in Lisieux.
Today, mission has become a dirty word. We should no longer convert, but offer the faith from afar, without insisting. The new pontiff does not seem to agree. Is mission not the most beautiful response to the identity crisis facing Western societies, which no longer know how to make themselves loved by all those they welcome indiscriminately? Pope Leo XIV knows well why he is addressing the Church of France. France, a land of missionaries, is today what is called a mission land, and its children are the first to be (re)converted. There is much to be done in the country of Joan of Arc and the Declaration of Human Rights, of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux and the French Revolution.
Leo XIV uses words that were thought to have been banned since Pope Francis: culture, community, heritage. He reminds us that the universalism of faith is not a denial of identity. France has, written deep in its DNA, the makings of a true spiritual awakening: “Saints do not appear spontaneously but, by grace, arise from living Christian communities that have known how to transmit the faith to them, to kindle in their hearts the love of Jesus and the desire to follow him. This Christian heritage still belongs to you, it still deeply permeates your culture and remains alive in many hearts”, he said to the French.
Such words are reminiscent of the vibrant appeal made by John Paul II to the French people during his first visit to France in 1980, two years after his election. With his inimitable Polish accent, he rebuked the crowd of faithful gathered before him, calling them with firmness and tenderness to wake up: “France, eldest daughter of the Church, are you faithful to the promises of your baptism? Allow me to ask you: France, daughter of the Church and educator of peoples, are you faithful, for the good of humanity, to the covenant with eternal wisdom?”
On Sunday, July 27th, during the celebrations for the jubilee of Sainte-Anne-d’Auray, Cardinal Robert Sarah was present to relay this appeal to the faithful who had gathered en masse at this important place of popular Breton faith. Thirty thousand faithful congregated to revive a centuries-old tradition known as the ‘Grand Pardon.’
Even if, “apparently, God is no longer there. And for Europe, God is dead,” Pope Leo’s envoy called on France, and through it, Europe, to a spiritual awakening, at a time when abortion and euthanasia have been elevated to a national cause:
Denouncing the humanitarian obsession with which Europe today is trying to buy a clear conscience by welcoming migrants with open arms, he recalled that the social response was not the key to human happiness:
For Cardinal Sarah, who delivered his sermon with rare intensity, this does not mean giving in to despair. Adoration of God remains the most powerful response to the attacks of evil. France’s immense spiritual legacy continues to convey its message of hope to the world. In June in Chartres and in Paray-le-Monial, in July in Sainte-Anne-d’Auray, tens of thousands of faithful came to prove to the world that the message of John Paul II had been heard, and that Leo XIV’s call will not go unanswered.
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