Timeless testimony from the Middle Ages

On a rainy Saturday in July, I visited Fleury Abbey, the French church in St.-Benoît-sur-Loire, for the second time. I had first been there in 1998, as a young student of medieval art history, and fell in love with its austere Romanesque style. As one drives into the modest town that bears its name, the church appears suddenly, high and massive, a quintessential example of the fortress-like character of Romanesque architecture.

Romanesque art and architecture, which means “in the manner of the Romans,” was the first international style to appear after the fall of Rome. It spread quickly across Europe from about A.D. 1000 through the middle of the 12th century when Gothic modifications, like the pointed arch, began to appear. Today one can visit many examples of fortresses and churches built in this style throughout France, Germany, and Italy. In France, typical features of Romanesque churches include thick stone walls, small windows, rounded arches, and barrel vaulting, with little extraneous decoration—except for the tops of the columns, or capitals, which often feature decorative carvings.

The original abbey church of Fleury was built in 675 on the site of the contemporary St.-Benoît, and shortly thereafter the monastery was presented with the remains of Benedict of Nursia (480-547), which are still in the cathedral’s crypt. The abbey church’s name was then changed from Fleury to St.-Benoît (“St. Benedict,” in French) and became a major pilgrimage site in the centuries that followed.

The oldest part of the church is its distinctive porch tower, begun in the early 11th century, which sits on more than 50 columns, many with capitals depicting Biblical scenes or fantastical monsters. The church itself was built primarily between 1067 and 1108 and consists of an imposing cross-shaped layout, with barrel vaulting down the long nave (approximately 328 feet, almost the length of a football field) and a row of clerestory windows near the ceiling. The stone that composes the walls and columns is a mix of cream, tan, and gold, giving the interior a warm and mellow glow.

The exterior north entrance features a magnificent sculptural portal of Christ enthroned and surrounded by the four evangelists, who are all ­busily writing their Gospels. Traces of paint remind viewers that sculpture from the Romanesque period was often painted in vivid colors, dispelling the idea that medieval sculpture was as monochrome as we have come to expect.

The abbey was shuttered during the French Revolution, and its monastery buildings were destroyed and subsequently used as a stone quarry. It reopened in 1944 and now houses about 40 Benedictine monks. For many years they made stained glass windows but now decorate beautiful ceramics with painted pictures of birds. They are also famous for producing moinillons, small candies in the shape of monks, which they trademarked in 1952.

Visitors to the church are welcome to attend prayers, held six times a day. I was fortunate to visit just at the time the monks were saying Nones, which means the ninth hour, or midafternoon prayer. The service was held in the crypt, a beautiful and haunting space with ­massive, squat columns and double ambulatories (aisles) around the central reliquary that contains the relics of Benedict. The service consists primarily of psalms, sung in an unusual chant, in French, with some prayers interspersed. Seven or eight black-robed monks filed in for Nones, along with 20 or 25 lay visitors.

There was no fanfare when the short service ended, and people quietly filed out of the crypt to the main church. We emerged from the darkness into the golden light of the nave and side aisles. It was a moving reminder of the faith that built this monumental structure more than a thousand years ago, and of the faith that the church continues to foster in those blessed to visit.

—Elizabeth Corey is a professor and director of the Honors Program at Baylor University