As the bus pulled away from our hotel in Lourdes, a deep sense of gratitude and thanks filled my being. Our experience at Lourdes had exceeded my expectations! In the quiet of my heart, prayers of thanksgiving ascended to God.
We were on our way to Toulouse, once an ancient Roman colony. It is the fourth largest city in France and is known as the “Pink City” because of its rose-colored terra-cotta brick architecture.
I was familiar with Toulouse. My husband and I had visited it three years ago. It was the place where our pilgrimage began and then started to fall apart. This time it would be different. There would be no miscommunication with the tour guide, no bomb scares and no added stress. Jonathan was at home safe and I was here with his blessing.
It was a lovely morning, as we walked down the cobblestone streets, lined with colorful buildings on either side. We were on our way to the Basilica of St. Sernin, where the tomb of St. Saturnin, the first Bishop of Toulouse is housed. He was martyred for his faith in 257 AD. Refusing to denounce his faith, he was tied by his feet to a bull and dragged through the town until the rope broke. His remains were gathered by two women who buried them in a deep ditch. He was later given a more honorable burial. A basilica was built in the 4th century which contained the remains of the saint. It became a popular place of pilgrimage and in time, larger buildings needed to be erected. It was an important stop for pilgrims on the way to Santiago de Compostela.
St. Sernin’s is a vast Romanesque church and one of the largest cathedrals in Europe. Saint Honoratus is also buried there. The church has a tremendous number of relics to venerate…some of the apostles are among them. There is a reliquary which holds a thorn from Jesus’ crown. What a blessing to behold! Century old paintings decorated the walls, greeting weary pilgrims, giving them encouragement on their long and arduous journey.
We were blessed to celebrate Mass there and I lectored. Proclaiming the Word of God is always a gift! As I sat there in that ancient church, I couldn’t help but think of all the thousands of pilgrims who were there before us. What a vast history and a great storehouse of treasures we have as Catholics! That being said, we finished our visit at St. Sernin’s and were off to the Convent of the Jacobins.
It is not a convent as all, but a 13th century former Dominican monastery. The building is Southern Gothic architecture and features Toulouse’s signature red and pink terra-cotta brick.
It houses the remains of St. Thomas Aquinas, which can be viewed in a reliquary beneath the altar. We had time to venerate and sit before the great philosopher and theologian and ask for his intercession.
The beautiful palm-like ceiling work was stunning! The church had a double nave, one side for the friars, and the other for the congregation. At one time there were with pillars and screens to separate the two. They pillars remain, but the screens are no longer are there. Although stain glass windows are present in the church, only one original window remains. They were destroyed during the French revolution. The Dominicans were forced to leave. The church was seized by the government and was turned into barracks for the military and their horses. Much was destroyed.
Years later, restoration was begun. The building is now a museum. Sadly, Jesus is no longer present there. How very sad!
Meg and I had some free time for lunch. We walked to the town square: the Place du Capitole. On one side there are numerous restaurants with outdoor café terraces. In the center area, vendors are busy selling their goods. On the opposite side of the square, a beautiful massive building built between the 12th and 18th Centuries, demands your attention. It houses the City Hall and the National Opera.
We chose our restaurant and asked for a menu in English. A male waiter greeted us and was kind enough to offer his phone to view the menu in English. His action stirred up a memory: Three years ago, this young man offered the same kind gesture to my husband and I, the evening we arrived in Toulouse. I wanted to be certain, so I asked him if he had worked there three years prior. He had. I was floored! What are the chances that we could have the same waiter three years later? I saw this as yet another sign from God. Papa was doing all that He could to heal all the difficult memories.
We took a picture together to commemorate our “chance” meeting. Our day in Toulouse was behind us. We were off to the bus. Our next destination was Rocamadour: the place where the ground fell from under our feet.
I felt strong. God’s presence in this pilgrimage had been unmistakable. I was filled with hope, that this too would be a place of healing.
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