Je m'appelle Super-Greg

We've gotten into the swing of things here. Bible study (1 John) in the mornings, outreach in the afternoons and team dinners in the evenings.

At dinner, people have shared some crazy stories about the French hospitality once a relationship is established. One group even had an old lady pile them into her tiny Renault and drive them to church.

The French are open to sitting and conversing over a baguette or a drink. Popular places in Nantes are on the campuses, on the steps in front of the Opéra, around the huge fountain in the city center, in the gardens of the chateau, in one of the many parks, or on the banks of the canal that splits the city.

The conversations have gone really well. They usually start off with some questions about culture, i.e. what is there to do on the weekends, or where do they like to go to get lunch for cheap. That's followed by questions about school or what they do with their time. I've met a couple of pianists from Paris, a professional figure skaters, a renewable resources contractor and a bunch of students from the campus.

The French seem to think about spiritual things every once in a while, but they are seldom discussed. When I meet groups of friends, I ask them if they talk about spirituality ever, and they say no. It's hard to find somebody who even knows another Christian. Most have never been to church, and some come from families where nobody has gone to church in the past few generations. Spirituality is definitely on the backburner.

That being said, they have been eager to talk about God, about purpose and afterlife, about morality, spirituality, Christ, religion, war, politics, sports, anything. They love to talk, and never seem to have anything else to do. Conversations can and have lasted hours.

My French has been effective, though sparse. They don't teach you how to convey the gospel in high school French class. It's been fun to talk to people who speak as much english as I do french. I told one girl my name at the end of our conversation: I said "Je m'appelle Greg." Somehow, she thought I said, "Je m'appelle Super-Greg." Oh man. My French must be horrible. We laughed, and when we left the conversation, I heard her say "au revoir, super-Greg!"

These people I've met; Charles, Julian, Antoinne, Daphne, Pierre, Paulin, Victor, Axelle, Leah, I feel like I know them all so well after a single conversation. They were all strangers at the beginning of the week.

I'm growing used to Nantes. Right now, they have a huge art festival going on. All kinds of modern art in the city. Wooden "creatures" emerging from the canal downtown, a giant wooden modern art assembly in a club, a pack of wolves in the grass by the moat of the chateau, a hydraulic mechanical elephant. We are always surrounded by art – and 800-year old churches that sit empty.

Sunday night, there was a music festival. Bands set up in the streets all over town. Anybody who wanted to play could, if they had space. Professional musicians and hobbyists shared the same stage – the cobblestone street. People ate it up. They danced, laughed, sang. It was an amazing evening.

So, now that I've caught you all up/bored you all to death, I want to iterate how much of a blessing it is to be here. The fact that I need to be a good steward of the resources it took to get me here and keep me here is incredible motivation to be bold in sharing my faith and make the most out of each day. I pray that God is glorified by the way I spend my days in Nantes.