I devoted a day to Ars during my January trip to France. I did not blog much about it at the time, and I thought I would post now what I wrote back then for a few friends, with the attention on Ars at the beginning of the Year of Priests. I say that I devoted a day to it, and not that I spent a day there, because a winter rain storm led to traffic problems that complicated the drive, since I was unfamiliar with the roads. The confusion of the morning ultimately added meaning to the day, and a little bit of humor.
- St. Jean Marie Vianney, the Curé of Ars
On a rainy Monday morning in January, the second full day of my trip, I went to pick up a rental car at 9:00 a.m., hoping to drive the 25 miles or so to Ars easily in time for the 11:00 a.m. Mass. It was not to be. There was a pouring rain. The car rental agency gave me directions to Route A-6 from Lyon to Ars, but the directions they gave me involved driving through a tunnel that was closed that morning.
My rental car was a stick shift. I hadn't driven a stick shift for a year, and Lyon is hilly. My first time up the road toward the tunnel, I was in the left lane and needed to be in the right. So up the hill I went, figuring I may as well practice for a while before getting on the freeway anyway. Back down the hill, second try, same mistake. Back down the hill, third try, right lane, but the tunnel was closed. Instead of Route A-6, I was on Route A-4, and a sign said it went to Paris. The guy at the rental car had told me to take that road to the entrance to A-6, so I was left wondering if the tunnel is always closed and if there was another entrance to A-6 further up the road. After driving for a while, I stopped and looked at my map, which didn't even have a road marked Route A-4.
And by then it was 11:00 a.m., so I was going to miss Mass. Back down the hill, I went to the cathedral, where I knew I could stop and study the map for a while, and where I could find a restroom nearby. I found another entrance to A-6 a couple of miles away and finally was on the right freeway after almost giving up and taking the car back.
While I was lost, I finally prayed something asking the Curé d'Ars to help me find the road to Ars. And then, frustrated and feeling hopeless, I prayed something like, "Holy St. Jean Vianney, I am a poor stupid woman who cannot find the road. Pray for me." The whole time, I was thinking about how slow my eyes were to see the signs, so that my reaction time was too slow to catch an unexpected turn, and how little sense I could make of the map. Beyond all, I had rented the car that day to avoid a 7 km taxi ride from the nearest train station which, by 11:00 a.m, sounded like it would have been no inconvenience at all! And that is despite the fact that driving in that part of France is no more difficult than driving in San Diego County, where I live.
Then I sensed a response from St. Jean Vianney, "No one finds their way here without asking for help." And I thought it must be true, in more ways than one. Why hadn't I prayed any sooner than that about a visit to such a holy place as Ars? Or stopped and asked for directions again when the rental car company's directions didn't work out?
And then, as I flipped through pages of my trip notebook looking for the proper exit near Ars, I came upon an article I had copied about the Curé. "Ars: A Meeting for the Prayer of the Humble" it was titled. I laughed. It had taken 3 hours of trial and error, but I thought I finally had enough humility to last me the rest of the day!
I finally arrived at the church in Ars 3-1/2 hours after I picked up the rental car. It had taken me that long for a simple 25 mile drive!
There is a monument to "the Meeting" in Ars, a statue that commemorates a meeting between St. Jean Vianney and a small shepherd boy when the saint was on his way to Ars for the first time to become its parish priest. He told the boy, "You have shown me the way to Ars, I will show you the way to heaven". So it seemed fitting that I could not find the way to Ars without praying for help.
I spent the first 45 minutes praying in the new part of the church, which is very pretty in blue, pink and yellow French colors. Then I went through the Curé's house, looking and taking pictures.
That house must have been very cold on rainy winter days in the early 19th century. It was cold and damp Inside even now. I looked at the simple table, the fireplace where the cooking and heating was done, and the roof that did not instill confidence even now, after the house has had the benefit of some restoration. It was a simple country parish's rectory, which he sometimes shared. There was one simply furnished room where he lived part of his time there, and another simply furnished room where he died, always in real poverty.
Walking from there to the votive room, it occurred to me that this is where Jesus lived, the theme from Sunday's Gospel. Jesus would have lived in similar humility and poverty.
Then I went to the Chapel of the Sacred Heart where the relic of St. Jean Vianney's heart is kept. The advantage to going in winter is that there are so few people around, so real silence is possible, real solitude is possible, even in places that attract a lot of pilgrims. This is a jubilee year, 150 years from the death of St. Jean Vianney, so it was especially unusual to find time there in solitude.
Then I bought a book and a video and looked around, and went back to the Church and sat to pray for a while in the old part of the Church (the Basilica) in a Marian chapel off to the side, thankful to be there.
Finally, as a light rain continued to fall, I found the road to the Carmel of Holy Curé d'Ars, and took a few pictures of its exterior before my phone/camera alerted that the battery was low. The gate from the road to the chapel was open, and the door was unlocked, so I gathered that pilgrims were welcome in the chapel, but the room was dark. I looked at the chapel but did not turn on the lights.
The Carmel of the Holy Curé d'Ars is one of several Carmelite monasteries in France that are not affiliated with an order because they are more traditional than the orders are in France. They are still recognized by the Church as Carmelite, and they are mentioned on the website of Carmel in France. The nuns allowed someone to come in and videotape their way of life last year – a video that can be found on YouTube.
I walked back to my car in the rain and left, probably around 4:00 p.m., having actually accomplished everything I had wanted to do that day despite the rain, and thankful that the storm never got any worse.
The article I took with me mentioned the religious climate there, as the sanctuary of the Curé d'Ars draws priests and religious pilgrims from all over the world, like a little Rome. Elsewhere, I have read that people do sometimes sense St. Jean Vianney's presence there. The priest who is assigned there now has said that he has sensed the saint present with him during the Eucharist.
I suppose that the shrine may be crowded during the warmer months of the year, especially during this jubilee year with the added attention drawn to Ars by the Year of Priests. It was quiet the day I was there. That is one of the reasons why I sometimes like to travel alone to places like that in winter.
Picture: St. Jean Vianney's bedroom in the curé's house in Ars.
"You have shown me the way to Ars, I will show you the way to heaven".
How beautiful, thank you for this! Truly God works all things for good :-)
I pray for vocations, I pray for priests, and I pray with the Pope for an increased attention to the sacrament of penance. The Cure d'Ars gave a mighty example of what regeneration looks like and how it can be brought about: through everyday preaching, exhortation, prayer and priestly diligence: http://www.zenit.org/article-26211?l=english
Posted by: Johnny Dollar | June 19, 2009 at 07:41 AM