Urban exploration in Lyon - The abandoned church of the Good Shepherd

We received photos from a traveler and compiled them into a historical summary.

The Bon Pasteur (Good Shepherd) church in Lyon is a legend in its own right. When I arrived on site, like everyone else, I found myself questioning how to gain access. It was clear, without a shadow of a doubt, that it would be difficult; the place is notorious for exactly that.

Following basic logic, I headed toward the small stepped street to the right. It seemed so obvious. To my surprise, I stumbled upon a group of firefighters there, themselves pondering the church. This boded very, very ill for me—talk about bad luck.

Keeping a low profile, I sat on the steps and started eavesdropping on their conversation. The firefighters weren't being discreet at all, which suited me just fine.

"Man, I’d really love to get inside there!"

"Yeah, but how? I can't find a doorbell; who would we even ask?"

"Can you believe some guys break into this church like savages? They scale the facades; it’s incredible. It revolts me."

"Still, I’d love to see the interior. How do we do it? Is there a priest we could ask?"

"We’ve already circled the place twice; it’s locked tight."

They eventually left their post, unsure of what to do, tried making a phone call, and finally, as the famous French comedy troupe Les Inconnus would say: they came up empty-handed.

My time had come, and I began exploring the front of the church. My adventure is always fraught with complications, for heaven's sake. The church is located right in front of an art school—a glaringly obvious face-to-face encounter. The main entrance sits over three meters high because the building was never finished; in any case, access from there was out of the question. If an entrance existed, it had to be elsewhere. Around the back?

That art school was really bothering me. We were in the middle of a heatwave, and every window was wide open. Leaning against the wall, acting nonchalant, were two students sketching the church’s pediment. I grumbled! I cursed! I thought to myself: Of course these types have to be here right now, peuchère! Time was ticking—was I going to have to give up?

One of the students looked at me and asked spontaneously: "Hey, you want to get into the church, don't you!" I gave a smile that didn't answer but spoke volumes about my intentions. It was then that I noticed the quality of their drawing. I think my two-year-old daughter, Ava, could do better than them! In reality, these two were spying on the firefighters and, in total discretion, were waiting for time to pass so they could break into the church themselves! True artists at work.

Then came the "hour of the breasts" (AHAH, that’s speech-to-text for you! I meant "hour of the drawings"!). Their sketch really made me laugh. Finally, the most difficult moment arrived: climbing to a significant height in front of everyone, in the middle of the street, without hesitating for a second about the potential consequences. Because yes, access is nothing less than urban climbing.

As it turns out, everything went well this time; let’s just say I was lucky.

Inside the church, the journey was far from over. We reached the triforium, which allows you to circle the entire nave ten meters up. However, the nave itself is blocked off everywhere by armored doors. The vandalism has been so severe that the owner has done everything possible to prevent passage. A discreet and awkward crawlspace still allows one to squeeze through toward the ground level.

The vast nave, located on the ground floor, is alarmed. You have to be well-informed and quite clever to get through, which was our case, as we acted with wisdom.

It is a beautiful church that deserves to be highlighted, yet the number of hideous graffiti and insults tagged on the walls is deplorable. I will never understand that.

After a relatively quick report, we made our getaway, each going our separate ways. It was a wonderfully amusing encounter. It was just meant to happen! And God, I seem to be saying those words often lately. What conclusion can I draw, other than: if I were to die today, what a beautiful life I’ve had! However, for my little Ava, I promise to be careful and avoid the Loyasse cemetery as much as possible!

I’ve brought back a whole batch of beautiful photos of this remarkably difficult-to-access place, which is so often completely sealed. It is a pleasure to share this with you, along with this story that adds just as much charm to the church. The Church of the Two "Fine" Artists!