A broken graveyard and religion in France
The iron-framed grave markers of Eglise St. Martin look sadly and unnecessarily neglected around the church’s perimeter.
Some crucifixes are broken; the stone legs of a depiction of Jesus Christ sit disconcertingly on a pile of stone blocks. Some stone markers have crumbled or faded. Some wooden crosses are rotting away, but still stand above the remains of a person wanting to be remembered.
There is an understandable and appropriate silence about a graveyard. The dead are meant to be left to their stillness.
But the stillness in this small village in the French region of Picardie (Haut de France) is compounded by years of population loss, economic struggle, and cultural shifts.
One cannot expect a church, or its cemetery, to remain in perfect order over the centuries, but it is still disconcerting to come across religious icons in pieces on the ground, no longer standing watch over villagers of the past.
I don’t think one must necessarily be religious to feel that a crime has been committed when a crucifix, statue of Buddha, or ancient text is destroyed by malice or time. I am near certain the cemetery of Saint Martin was a victim of the latter, helped along by the waning of religion in modern France.
