Interview published in Psychologies Magazine June 2009 —
Psychologies Magazine: You live on Rue de l'Abbaye, the bell tower of the St Germain des Prés church serves as your landscape, and your apartment is the former library of a monastery: religion is a fixation for you!
Frédéric Lenoir: No, I assure you it's pure chance! Every time I look for an apartment, I come across this kind of place. It's religion that pursues me!
(His phone rings: a monastic chime)
And this choice of ringtone too, is it a coincidence?
It's the only one I found bearable on my phone! But it's true that I like the sound of bells.
Let's get to your current situation: in your new book, you bring together three figures with little connection, except that they are "in the spirit of the times": Socrates, Jesus, and Buddha. Why?
Because they are the three masters of life who have most influenced my personal journey. These are three encounters I had between the ages of 13 and 20, and to whom I owe becoming who I am today.
How did you discover them?
The first encounter took place with Socrates, when I read Plato's "The Symposium." I must have been 13 or 14, and I was touched by this text. It made me want to read other works by Plato, and that's how I came across the story of Socrates' death. I found it overwhelming that a man could say, about those who condemned him to death: "they can kill me, but not harm me." This made me reflect on the greatness of the human soul and prompted me to question what is most essential in existence: is it money, sensual pleasure, social success, family life, friendship, inner freedom? Secondly, I was led to discover Buddhism through various readings. I was immediately struck by the very concrete teachings of the Buddha, which connect with these same fundamental questions. Finally, thirdly, I discovered Jesus, around the age of 20. Why so late?
You were raised in the Catholic religion, right?
Yes, my parents were believers and practitioners, but for them, faith was above all openness to others; they helped lots of people, some even lived with us for a while... This gave me a good image of Christianity, but at the same time, there was the catechism and its ready-made definitions that seemed absurd to me. At the age of 10-12, I stopped going to church. Philosophy and Buddhism took over my existential questions. Until one day, having decided to meditate for a few days in a former Cistercian abbey in Brittany, I came across the Gospel of John. Like those of Socrates and Buddha, Jesus' words struck me. But even more: Jesus touched my heart. It was a devastating emotion. I cried for hours without knowing why. That was more than 25 years ago, and since then, these three masters of life have accompanied me. Jesus differently from others: I speak to him as one speaks to an invisible being with whom one has a personal relationship. That is why I can say: I am a Christian.
Christian, but in a syncretism…
Not in the sense of an incoherent mixture. I would rather speak of synthesis, that is to say that I establish a hierarchy between these different messages. Buddhism brings me a certain philosophy of existence, it teaches me detachment and the observation of my emotions. Socrates is more of an awakener; when I think of him, I say to myself “know yourself, and at the same time know that you know nothing.” He teaches me to remain humble. As for Jesus, he is a presence that inhabits me.
How is this “synthesis” practiced?
I try to start my day with a quarter of an hour of meditation, as I learned 25 years ago in India from the Tibetans. This provides mental calm and a connection between body and mind that also helps me to pray. I rarely go to church. I am an aesthete and the lack of beauty in the liturgy offends me. I also don't always feel enough authenticity among priests and the faithful; I often have the impression that it's all very mechanical. It's only in monasteries that I feel good. I sometimes spend a few days there and it's a real revitalization each time. I also like Orthodox masses, which are more lively. The chants and the decoration touch me: the incense, the icons...
You have a very individualistic approach to religion!
What do you want? I am a son of my time!
Religion also has a social and public function: as its etymology says, it consists of connecting - not only to God, but to other believers.
I don't deny this collective dimension of religion and I understand that many people need to share their faith. When I myself happen to be in the middle of an assembly where I feel good, I am very happy. But I can also feel this collective emotion when I go to a concert or a football match! It arises almost everywhere as soon as individuals are connected to each other by something beyond themselves. But this is not the emotion I'm looking for. Like philosophy, religion intervenes in my life as part of a personal quest for meaning and a better life.
Given what is happening today – between the Pope's declarations and interreligious conflicts – it is more comfortable to call oneself a "solitary Christian" rather than a practicing Catholic...
It is not at all for convenience! If I were truly linked to the Church and attached to its dogmas, I would affirm without shame that I am Catholic... even if it means saying that I do not always agree with the Pope! But I only feel Catholic today because of the education I received – which I do not deny – and my association with the great mystics, such as Meister Eckhart, John of the Cross or Therese of Lisieux. I am undoubtedly more Protestant in my personal way of living the faith and Orthodox in my liturgical sensitivity. And I try above all to be a disciple of Christ, even if I am very far from being able to put his teaching into practice!
Have you ever wondered about a religious vocation?
The vocation of a priest didn't interest me at all, but I had an attraction to the absolute. While continuing my philosophy studies, I went to live in the monastery where my best friend had just joined and I also lived in a hermitage for several months. These were experiences as powerful as they were difficult, and I came back from them understanding that I wasn't made for that! I need moments of solitude, but I am also a communicative being who needs to connect with others through sensitivity and affection.
Your approach is, in fact, spiritual and not religious...
Absolutely. And for me, all the great spiritual and philosophical paths lead to a common goal: to be able to live one's life fully, without closure. We are all marked by fears, anxieties, emotional blockages linked to our personal history. "Everything is suffering," said the Buddha. The main thing is that these sufferings do not encourage us to withdraw into ourselves, in fear of others and of life. For me, the essence of spiritual life is to teach us to say "yes" to life, to accept everything that comes, in order to live fully, rather than just survive. And the whole path of life is to move from fear to love.
It sounds like you're talking about psychoanalysis...
I underwent psychoanalysis! About fifteen years ago, for five years, following my divorce. This work was an important moment of awareness. But on a therapeutic level, what brought me the most were the Gestalt and Rebirth courses that I did afterwards. I relived painful repressed emotions - including episodes from embryonic life. But if I did all this, it was always within the framework of a Socratic work of self-knowledge. I've never really wandered. I've always followed this spiritual path without knowing where it would lead me, but always seeking to evolve, to know myself better and to transform myself. With a very pronounced critical spirit, but without ever closing the door to intuition, the heart, the imagination.
How can such a spiritual approach help us today?
Two systems are showing their serious shortcomings: the materialistic, mercantile system and the dogmatic religious system. The former can be renewed, notably through more moderate, supportive, and environmentally friendly acts of consumption. As for the latter crisis, it invites us not to invent a new religion but, I think, to return to our roots. To take Christianity as an example, the Gospels are a treasure that has not aged a bit, while Benedict XVI's discourse is worn to the core and does not meet the true spiritual expectations of our contemporaries.
Isn't it risky to embark on this path alone?
It's a question of balance. It is indeed important to have guides, to meet more advanced people, and sometimes to join a community. This happened at several key moments in my journey. But it also seems important to me to know how to leave the security of certainties, of the clan that reassures us... We must distance ourselves from what has been instilled in us in order to appropriate religion through personal discernment. Otherwise, we risk falling asleep in the reproduction of external religious gestures that do nothing to help the individual to complete work on themselves.
This makes the individual the manufacturer of their own spirituality...
I would rather say the author or creator of their own life. To exist is a fact, to live is an art. I would add that if the individual is fundamentally alone in their quest, they always need others to move forward, to share, to commune. Spirituality must above all allow us to learn to love, and this cannot be done without others! But for centuries we have become so accustomed to thinking that being a Christian means being baptized and going to Mass that we have almost forgotten the heart of Jesus' universalist message, which is love for others and the personal search for truth. To the Samaritan woman who asks him whether we should worship God in Jerusalem as the Jews claim, or on the mountain of Samaria as the Samaritans do, Jesus replies: neither! We must "worship God in spirit and in truth because God is spirit." The true temple, where the encounter with God takes place, is the spirit and the heart of the human being. It then matters little what religious culture we belong to.
Each of your books, essays, or novels sells hundreds of thousands of copies worldwide, and your play sells out. What is the key to your success?
Perhaps simply because the quest I have been pursuing for over thirty years is in line with current expectations. Many people are looking for something other than what mercantile society or religious institutions offer them. There is the search for a good and just life, which can involve psychological work or various philosophical and spiritual encounters.
So you are rather optimistic...
I am a tragic optimist! Death is unbearable and life is full of suffering, but it can offer us great joys, and we can achieve lasting happiness and end up accepting our finiteness. Human beings often behave in a selfish, even cruel way, but each individual has within them forces of goodness just waiting to be expressed. We are going through a difficult period, we are creating a planetary civilization undermined by ecological and ideological risks, but isn't this also an opportunity to overcome our differences linked to fears and cultural clashes, in order to discover what brings us together? I truly believe that we can move towards a civilization that accepts the richness of diversity, in a profound humanism. The real divide is not between believers and non-believers or between the Western world and the Muslim world. It is between those who respect human beings and those who do not.
What do we still lack to get there?
It is undoubtedly necessary for each individual to accept transformation. We must move away from a logic of obedience—to dogmas, to advertising slogans...—to enter into a logic of responsibility and discernment. This requires education and knowledge combining science, philosophy, and spirituality. It is because individuals will transform themselves, will be more conscious and awake, that the world will improve.
Interview by Anne-Laure Gannac.