Today began in an obscure corner of the Bible: Genesis 26:12-18. You may have never heard the story, said Rev. Dr. Gerald Hobbs, one of the pilgrimage leaders, as we sat in Meaux’s immense cathedral.
In the story, the wells that were dug in the time of Abraham have become full of rubble. There’s an assumption that someone filled them intentionally to deny Abraham’s son, Isaac water for his sheep. But perhaps rubble simply crumbled into them as the decades passed, Hobbs said.
Isaac tells his servants to clear out the wells. He knows there was “living water” in these places in his father’s time and he knows it’s there still. Sure enough, when the servants pull the stones and earth from the wells, there’s water in them.
“There is a sense that what we’re doing on this pilgrimage is akin to that story of Isaac, one of the patriarchs,” he said. “Places like this, St. Etienne Cathedral, were built where their founders knew there was living water.
“Pilgrimage is about going back and getting in touch with the origins of faith—to places that were spiritually significant for ancestors. Isaac’s story of the wells reminds us that those places that were spiritually significant have been built up with rubble.”
Pilgrimage helps us to begin to see the rubble—some of which we may have put there—and begin to remove it, he suggested.
Together we read a prayer penned by Keri K. Wehlander: “We prefer being experts, and the skill that familiarity brings. Yet, something continually stirs and surprises us. We are always Beginners.”
Our pilgrimage began in Meaux because ideas that we often associate with the Reformation—such as translating the Bible into common languages—began to bubble up in the diocese before the Reformers appeared on the scene.
Notable promoters of reform in Meaux included Jaques Lefèvre d’Étaples (when he was a “godly old man,” according to Hobbs) and Bishop Guillaume Briçonnet.
Lefèvre believed anyone literate should have access to the Bible. He translated large portions of scripture into French, completing the whole Bible in 1530. And Briçonnet offered a free copy—at his expense—to any poor layperson who asked for it.
Today, tables in the cathedral are covered with pocket-sized copies of the New Testament and Psalms, free to anyone who wants them.
The men of the Meaux group called for people to learn the gospels and base their lives on the teachings and example of Christ. The centrality of scripture became a focus of the Reformers as well.
Fr. Bruno Beltramelli, librarian for the diocese of Meaux, led us through stacks of rare books housed in the converted chapel of a former seminary (which, in turn, was built on the site of a sixth century mission). He pulled out a copy of John Calvin’s Institutes of the Christian Religion, among other texts, noting that today Protestants and Catholics in Meaux work closely together.
That was not always the case. In 1546, 14 Protestants were burned alive in the city square. And the Wars of Religion in the mid to late 16th century pitted Catholics and Protestants against each other.
Yet today the two churches coexist in peace. And the legacy of Lefèvre and Briçonnet resonate among Catholics and Protestants alike.
“The simple members of the body of Christ need to know the Holy Gospel, the rule of life and of salvation,” Lefèvre wrote in his preface to the 1523 edition. “In this day of Jesus Christ who is the true sun, should we look to any light but that of his faith, offered in the Holy Gospel? … Let us recognize that men and their teachings are nothing, unless they are confirmed by the word of God.”
