I didn’t think about the fact that it was Sunday when I started out to the Louvre in the morning. When I passed the Notre Dame and saw a long line going inside, I still didn’t realize a service was going on. But when I walked inside, my breath caught in my throat. It felt sacred.
It was a bit bizarre to watch the service as a tourist, with people gaping and snapping photos (that made noise, no less) and then moving on. The strangest moment was when tourists took photos during prayers. Then there was Communion.