On the day we visited, Sainte Pierre didn’t look much like the church in the painting by Maurice Utrillo above. Trucks and cars were parked in front and the small courtyard was filled with booths for a street fair. We were stunned when we walked inside. An experimental video with some disturbing imagery was playing on a screen in front of the altar, accompanied by a loud and harsh sound track. The video was part of an arts festival. Either the pastor or a friend of his had created it; our French wasn’t good enough to fully understand the explanation from a somewhat chagrined church secretary.
This wasn’t what I was expecting. I was disappointed and a little angry. But then Ignatius and his companions didn’t get what they were expecting either when they made their vows. They thought that God would send them to serve in the Holy Land. They implemented Plan B — putting themselves at the disposal of the pope — when travel to the Holy Land proved impossible.
We went back to Sainte Pierre a few days later when the arts festival was over. The video was gone. The church was quiet. The light was soft. (At the left is stained glass window depicting St. Ignatius.) It was a good time to thank God for what happened here in 1534.