Kristin Blake, friend of ReachParis shares about The Global Gospel: Things the French are Teaching Me about the Church
The Gospel is for every tribe, tongue and nation, and my expat life in southern France is showing me that firsthand. Here’s how my life in France is revealing the beauty of God and the wonder of the Gospel.
Photo taken by Kristen Blake
The French people make me laugh. Several weekends ago, I was playing la pétanque with some church friends in Marseille when I needed a restroom break. Opening the door to the courts’ restroom, I was met with a sink and two doors without handles. Translation: there was zero way to get inside the bathroom. I told my French friends the dilemma to which they nonchalantly responded, “Well, you have to ask for the handle.”
I’m sorry, what?! To them, it was clear as day that I had to go ask for the handle in order to use the restroom. After I asked for the handle, I slid it inside and opened the door — only to be locked in on the other side. Once I banged my way out of the bathroom with a strong push, I had to laugh.
I had to laugh because this moment was so entirely French. It felt French because it was way more difficult than it needed to be. Efficiency, hurry, haste who? These words virtually don’t exist in French vernacular.
This moment at the pétanque courts reminded me of how it took over a month to have a working bank account because of all the necessary documents I had to submit. After a library’s worth of paperwork and two in-person appointments, I received the debit card in the mail. But I had to wait another several days to receive the pin code to activate the debit card.
This moment reminded me of my two-hour lunch breaks and of stores never being open on Sundays or Mondays. It reminded me of the French phrase that might as well be tattooed on everyone’s forehead: « c’est pas grave, » which, in essence, translates to “it’s no big deal.”
It’s no secret that life in France is slower, and sometimes you just have to laugh. My American DNA thrives on shoving down meals in 15 minutes, two-day Amazon Prime shipping and prioritizing efficiency. I’m all about knocking out two birds with one stone — actually, make it three.
So when I moved to France last September to teach English, I was constantly met with these cultural differences: a slower pace of life, different schedules, varying perspectives. As in any cultural immersion experience, life felt frustrating at times with all the changes.
But the more I adjusted and reflected, the more I learned to appreciate how the French savor life. It’s a beautiful thing to linger with friends on a slow Sunday afternoon. It’s wonderful to not be glued to your email because no one expects you to respond on a Saturday. These past months have helped me understand what it means to be a human being, not a human doing.
And in a bigger sense, these moments have made me love God for the beauty of the cultures He’s created and the power of the Gospel. Let me explain: just several days prior to this sunny Saturday of playing la pétanque with my French small group friends, I had been worshiping at church.
And I had goosebumps. As we sang worship music in French, I looked around the room in awe at people from so many corners of the world. Earlier that morning, I’d heard churchgoers talking in German, Spanish, Portuguese and English as they sipped their morning coffee.
For the vast majority of my life, I’ve lived in the same house in the suburbs of Missouri. Same ole, same ole. The Lord absolutely revealed Himself and grew me in big ways through my church communities in the Midwest.
But standing in my church in southern France, all masked up and singing praise in France, I had goosebumps because of how big our God is. I have yet to not be overwhelmed that the Gospel knows no one tribe, tongue or nation. To worship Jesus in your native tongue is awe-inspiring, but in another language thousands of miles from home, it’s an out-of-body experience. You realize what a small corner of the world you inhabit yet what a big God we serve.
Moments like these remind me of who the Church is. It’s not my childhood church building on a quiet street in Missouri. It’s not the building where I rocked babies in the nursery. It’s not the sanctuary with stained glass where I was baptized. It’s not the American people — or the Spanish or the Chinese or the Arabic, for that matter. The people of God on every continent, that’s who the Church is. And that means no matter how different our cultures are, the Gospel is bigger and better.
“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
– Matthew 28:19-20
Kristin Blake is a Missouri girl living in southern France where she teaches English and writes about travel and culture on her blog, Round Trip.