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It seems there is a patron saint for almost everyone and everything. This travel permitted period I spent the weekend in a small French town named Ars where the body of St. John Vianney, patron saint of parish priests, lies.
I traveled by myself and stayed at a seminary for men studying philosophy (men in their first years of seminary). I had a very pleasant time there. Many seminarians I met know English, which helped greatly since I don’t know French. Much to my amusement I met a priest who reminded me a lot of the French chef on the movie Ratatouille. He was plump and very jovial, a joy to be around.
No offense to anyone who speaks French but I can’t help smile when I hear it. It is a funny sounding language to me. I heard “oh la, la” twice, plenty of “oh wee, wee’s” and some hearty French laughs.
The meals were great but I had to get to the bottom of something I found strange: the meals ended with a selection of cheese (oh how French) and they told me that it goes well with wine but no one partook of wine at all – neither with the meal nor with the cheese!
I asked why and to my relief they told me that they did drink wine… but the wine offered at the seminary isn’t worth drinking. Can you believe the French snubbing their nose at wine?! I had a lot of fun with this experience, interiorly (too bad I was traveling by myself and couldn’t share this with others). I didn’t think it was the best wine I’ve had but it definitely wasn’t the worst.
Besides meeting some new friends, most of whom were human (see photos for the non-rational friends I made) I spent most of my time with an old friend, St. John Vianney. He died in 1859, making 2009 his 150th anniversary.
He is not only an old friend, in the sense that he lived 150 years ago – despite his body being incorrupt, but also in the sense that I have had a devotion to him for years and will ask his intercession for the rest of the years of my life.
He is an incredible model and was gifted with an extraordinary gift to ‘read’ souls. Thousands flocked to this little French town of Ars to see and experience him in his element – that is, in hearing peoples’ confessions. He spent up to eighteen hours a day in the confessional. He gave light penances and made the rest up himself by sleeping on the floor and eating a meager diet of boiled potatoes.
St. John Vianney was a living saint that transformed the little town of Ars, his holiness transformed France after the devastation of the Church in France caused by the French Revolution and he assists pastors today through his holy intercession as the patron saint of parish priests.
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