Dossier, Volume 14 #4

The Virtual Diocese

Stripped of his diocese in France and made bishop of a patch of desert instead, Jacques Gaillot has gone onlineinterview by Dominique Boisvert

Born in September 1935, Jacques Gaillot travelled a straight path for a good part of his life. His happy, uneventful childhood led him to the seminary and then to the priesthood in 1961. He was a teacher, a seminary director and vicar-general of Langres before being appointed to the see of Évreux on June 18, 1982, thus becoming the youngest bishop in France. It was a flawless career path in the church.

No one, not even the person principally involved, foresaw what would follow. But little by little, his contacts with people who came to see him and events to which he chose to respond led him to some unexpected places: conscientious objection and opposition to French nuclear tests, a stand on the place of secular schools, support for some liberation struggles in other countries, a suggestion that married men should be ordained as priests, an open attitude on controversial subjects such as condoms and the movie The Last Temptation of Christ, solidarity with immigrants and marginalized people, and more. Predictably, there was growing media interest in this unusual voice of the church. He received an increasing number of media invitations, sometimes from unexpected sources.

After a series of "incidents," Rome relieved Jacques Gaillot of his responsibilities as bishop of Évreux on January 13, 1995. He was criticized for his unusual way of being a bishop, but not for his doctrinal stands. Still a bishop, he was given the customary appointment to head an ancient diocese that no longer exists--in this case Partenia in the Algerian desert. It was up to the French bishops' conference to find new and more acceptable responsibilities for him. But life itself took on the task of finding work for the new bishop of Partenia. His phantom diocese became more and more real, crossing traditional boundaries. Without having expected or wanted to do so, Jacques Gaillot gradually began to invent a new way of being a bishop.

Many people criticize Jacques Gaillot for being on every public platform: demonstrations, television, interviews, books, in France and elsewhere. I myself have been disturbed by this phenomenon. Wouldn't a little silence be appropriate? Doesn't he risk being "overexposed"? Each time I meet him, however, my reservations melt away like snow in springtime. Once again, I am struck by the clear expression on his face, his soft voice, his radical yet simple words, his concern for the humble, his inner freedom.

With him, the Gospel once again becomes Good News through everyday words and images. With him, the church dives into the challenges of modernity, not to drown in modernity but to be a loving presence as it struggles with difficult questions. With him, the marginalized are once again put first, as Jesus of Nazareth wanted. With him, real debates can be conducted freely in the light of day. With him, those who are young, far away, hurt by life or by the church, women, believers of other faiths and even nonbelievers regain involvement and hope. Whether he is discussing difficult questions or showing solidarity with others, Jacques Gaillot speaks and acts freely and courageously, and invites us to do the same.

I interviewed Jacques Gaillot in Montreal in February 1996. What follows is an edited transcript of that interview.

--Dominique Boisvert

Dominique Boisvert: The "Gaillot affair" and the media have made you a celebrity. How do you avoid the traps that celebrity involves? With all the invitations you get, how do you decide where to go and when to speak?

Jacques Gaillot: It's true that I get a lot of requests. And as I have often pointed out, I would get a lot fewer requests if more bishops or church authorities were willing to speak freely, in public, on all the various issues in the church and in society.

But I don't take myself too seriously. Christ and the Gospel--the presence of God that is in every person and has nothing to do with celebrity--make it possible for me to keep things within bounds and discern among all the requests. Before I accept an invitation, I always ask, "Whom will it serve?" For example, I was invited to attend a convention of married priests in Brazil, and I refused--not because this isn't an important problem in the church, but because it is not as much of a priority as the struggle of landless Brazilian peasants would have been. But when I was invited to Quebec, I accepted because many many Quebecers have come to see me, both at Évreux and on the Internet, or have told me they feel that they are members of the diocese of Partenia--so much so that I feel a little bit as if I am here on a pastoral visit.

Dominique Boisvert: This forgotten diocese of Partenia, which was given to you symbolically when the diocese of Évreux was taken away from you, is becoming a living reality. You expanded that reality further when you decided in January to establish an Internet site. Why did you do this?

Jacques Gaillot:I hadn't thought of it at all and I was hesitant. But two friends who are very plugged into the world of communications persuaded me that the Internet was more than a passing fad limited to people with money. Rather, it is a kind of historic event, which will quickly become more democratic. I have experienced this as a new unforeseen adventure, which will once again make it possible for me to spread the Word widely, enter into dialogue with more people, and develop another form of presence in the modern world.

Of course, this is the work of a whole team. For I have been asked to be present in French and English. When people make comments to us we take them into account, to improve both the content and the technical aspects of the site. I make a regular contribution to the site, in somewhat the same way as I used to contribute to the diocesan bulletin, with a kind of editorial, my schedule of activities, and so forth. The technicians who maintain our server are surprised at how popular the Partenia site has become. It receives lots of messages, many of them from young people who don't worry about formalities. Often they are communicating with a bishop for the first time and they do it in a very direct style: "Bonjour Jacques!"

Dominique Boisvert: Even before the French bishops find acceptable duties for you, aren't you taking on commitments and responsibilities towards a host of people and groups whom you won't be able to leave in the lurch?

Jacques Gaillot: Of course, all this requires a bit of organization. Especially since we are only at the beginning. For example, we would like the marginalized, with whom I am trying to be in solidarity, to have access to the Internet as well and to speak in their own right through this means of communication.

But I don't want to establish a parallel church, or to create a movement or a "chapel"; there are enough of them already! The movement exists, without me; I'm not creating it. I would like the diocese of Partenia to be a place where people can have a kind of "dual citizenship": in their home diocese and in Partenia. I don't want to take people out of the places where they have responsibilities and commitments. On the contrary, I would like the virtual diocese of Partenia to serve the church in the places where people are rooted. This morning I met some women of Partenia. I am glad they are continuing their struggle for justice for women here, in Montreal. It's a little bit like the ecumenical monastic community at Taizé: many young people come to Taizé, but it always sends them back to their cities, their parishes, their movements. Because you have to act where you are.

I would like the diocese of Partenia to be a place where people can have a kind of "dual citizenship": in their home diocese and in Partenia.

I would like the diocese of Partenia to be a place of freedom and tolerance, a place where people can express their doubts, their questions, their anger--whatever. Where everyone is allowed: divorced people, homosexuals, the marginalized, people of other religions--everyone, for they are all children of God. I would like Partenia to welcome those who are going through hard times, those who are discouraged, even those who have been disappointed or hurt by the institutional church. But not to take them out of where they are. People need to remain rooted and active where they are.

Dominique Boisvert:In leaving Évreux, under the unfortunate circumstances that we are familiar with, did you have any idea what was in store for you?

Jacques Gaillot: None whatsoever. All I knew was that the Lord would not abandon me and that I would continue to try to be in solidarity with marginalized people and attentive to the calls that come to us from daily life in so many ways. I thought I would go live at the Mission de France; it was suggested instead that I live with homeless families on the Rue du Dragon.

And when I look at my life, a year later, I realize that living with marginalized people has given me the opportunity to learn two things. First of all to live well, from day to day, without being able to make plans. One day's troubles are enough; tomorrow will be another day. And second, a sense of celebration: because life is hard, you have to be able to celebrate to keep going--celebrate the fact of being together, of sharing the little you have, with music and song.

Dominique Boisvert: Even if marginalized people have taught you a great deal and have made you happy, are you not shocked by the vast increase in their numbers?

Jacques Gaillot: Of course! When I went to Mururoa to protest against the French nuclear tests I said, "There is no point in building a French bomb. We already have one, right in our cities, threatening to go off at any moment: the bomb of social exclusion." It's terrible, in France, to see how there are more and more marginalized people and how they are getting younger and younger. Wherever you go, all around you people are begging, holding out their hands: "I'm hungry." And marginalization is becoming more serious; disadvantages are accumulating like Russian dolls: unemployment, prison, AIDS, expulsion. If all the marginalized people decided to march on Paris, there wouldn't be enough riot police to stop them.

There is only one attitude we can have to marginalization: we have to recognize, in a radical way, the dignity of every person. A man is a man, a woman is a woman, above and beyond all labels. But that has all kinds of concrete consequences. As long as you help the marginalized, there are no problems and everybody agrees. But when you let them be responsible, agents of their own destiny, then it's dangerous. It's dangerous for institutions, and it's dangerous for people in power.

I've experienced the same thing in the church. It's not enough for Christians to be there on the ground serving the marginalized. There are many such Christians, in all sectors, and that's a good thing. But the way the church itself operates doesn't reverberate with the presence of Christians among the down and out. Bishop Oscar Romero understood this: he realized that if he wanted to change the way the church operates, the starting point had to be the poor. Only then would the church's language, its liturgy, its priorities be transformed.

Dominique Boisvert: In a world that is often confused, where the challenges are immense (marginalization, globalization, neoliberalism, technology) and where many people feel powerless, what biblical passage seems to you especially pertinent to our era?

Jacques Gaillot: It's an easy choice: the book of Exodus. We are leaving solid ground, we are leaving the church of Christendom, we are leaving a way of operating that we've been familiar with for centuries. And we are starting out on an adventure, heading towards another shore that we know little about and that God is making ready for us. We are not better protected than anyone else. We don't have any privileges--on the contrary. We have a journey to undertake, a journey on which we have to leave a lot of baggage behind, a journey on which we will become, once again, Christians without baggage.

It is an experience of being fragile. We see that the essential things cannot be bought. We see that Christians need others to reach that other shore. And by others, I don't mean other Christians, but their human brothers and sisters.

A small incident made me think. I was invited to Montreuil by a pastoral team, one day at noon. When I came out of the Metro station it was pouring, and I had gone out in shirtsleeves, with no umbrella or raincoat. I took refuge in a doorway and a man came up to me and said, "Can I lend you my raincoat?" "I am touched by your gesture," I said, "but you need it as much as I do." We exchanged a few words, and I learned that the man was Jewish. He went on his way.

Not a minute went by before a woman came up to me and said, "Monseigneur, come under my umbrella and I will take you to where you are going." She took my arm and off we went. Along the way she said, "The person carrying this umbrella is a Muslim, you know." I said to myself, "What an ecumenical outing! It's a good thing I didn't bring a raincoat or an umbrella. Otherwise I wouldn't have met these people." When you have everything you need, you have no need of others. But when you are in need, you allow others to help you.

When you have everything you need, you have no need of others. But when you are in need, you allow others to help you.

I think we are in a situation where Christians can't make it through all by themselves. They need their brothers and sisters of other religions. They need nonbelievers too, to go forward and to receive from them. If Christians say, "We have the truth," we know they won't get to the other shore.

Dominique Boisvert: But for that to happen, don't you need a radical freedom?

Jacques Gaillot: When you are afraid, you are not free. Fear often dwells inside people--fear of losing their reputation, their job, their friends, fear of being judged. In society as in the church, many people live according to their interests, not according to their convictions.

When you are afraid, you are not free. But at the same time, freedom makes people afraid. It always amazes me, in the Gospel: why did people reject Jesus of Nazareth, who spent his time doing good? Because his free speech made everyone afraid. Because his words unsettled people. His words showed that it was possible to live differently, that there was another way. And people wouldn't stand for someone being so free. He had to be kept quiet.

You have no doubt met men and women, as I have, who were free people. They were attractive and yet at the same time they made people afraid, because in their manner of being they called us to live differently. Freedom is an adventure--a difficult and costly one. You have to be ready to pay the price of your words. And it's so much easier to be settled than to be adventurous--just as the Jews, during the Exodus, longed for the comfortable slavery of Egypt, which they saw as being better than the adventure of liberation.

Nor is there freedom, in my view, without love. The road to freedom is a road of nonviolence, of respect for others. There is no room for hatred, bitterness or violent methods. We are free to love and to serve. This is the freedom that the Gospel gives us.

Perhaps the greatest service that we can give the church is to be free men and women. This is what we need the most, in this institution in which many people are afraid. At all levels. A bishop, who just turned seventy-five, told me, "Now that I am retired, I will be able to write and say things." And I answered, "What a pity to say things when you are retired. It was when you were in charge that you needed to say them." Now he's not afraid of anything any more. Isn't it terrible?

This is the sign of a witness today: freedom, freedom, freedom! I think there is a right to express disagreements within the church publicly. It doesn't prevent communion in faith. There is a legitimate pluralism, in the church as in society, but that means debate has to be part of the way we do things. And we weren't trained for that.

But that is the wonderful transformation I see happening in the church: more and more Christians are discovering the freedom to which the Gospel calls them. "You were called to be free," the apostle Paul told the Galatians. The Spirit is not a spirit of fear; rather, "the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness and self-control" (Gal 5:13, 5:22-23). And it is not limited to a few. Everyone is called to freedom. In all situations.

To visit Partenia, click here!

Dominique Boisvert is a member of the editorial board of the French Canadian Jesuit magazine Relations. His interview with Bishop Gaillot originally appeared in French in the June 1996 issue of Relations.