In comments below, Fr. Keyes, aka The New Gasparian, asked if in our Trevi Fountain wanderings, we came across St. Gaspar del Bufalo. Well, as a matter of fact that’s one of the main reasons we returned.

Ever since we moved up here, St. Gaspar del Bufalo has been a part of our consciousness in some way or another. He is the founder of the Society of the Precious Blood, which used to have quite a presence around here – Joseph attends preschool at Most Precious Blood School which, until last year when they pulled out of the parish and school was, as you’d expect from the name, a ministry of the Society.

I think we first ran across him not long after we moved up here, and we were driving around western Ohio, looking at the famed Cross-tipped churches. We came upon this enormous establishment, plunked down in the middle of farmland, rising from the plain. Take a look. It turned out to be the former St. Charles Seminary of the Society, now a retirement home for members – quiet and largely empty – a testimony to the vigor of former times. In the chapel was a relic – a portion of St. Gaspar’s forearm. What was this place? What was this order? Who was this saint?

So we studied up and familiarized ourselves with the rather remarkable life of St. Gaspar, and Michael has some stories of prayers answered that he chalks up to the intercession of the saint. So, in visiting the Trevi fountain, he knew that St. Gaspar’s shrine was somewhere around there, and even thought he knew the name of the church – S. Marie de Trevi, naturally enough. But where was it?

(a common question in Rome. I know it should be around here? Where is it? What’s the name of this street anyway?)

As we got to the fountain, we looked around – there was a church directly in front, but not the right place. Leaving that church, we saw two police officers in those incredibly bulky-looking Italian police uniforms. Michael asked if they knew – Gaspar del Bufalo? Maria de Trevi? Chiesa? They shrugged, looked at each other and waved in a generally southerly direction. They had no idea, but thought it might be that way.

So we walked, coming across, I think, the old site of the North American College (or maybe that was on another walk – I’m not sure) in the process, and one or two other interesting churches. But no Gaspar. Finally, we turned a corner and found ourselves looking at the Trevi from the opposite direction from which we started – and there it was. About 50 meters, I think, from the spot where we’d been talking to the police. Grazie, guys. Know your beat. Impressive.

It’s small, as you can tell from the pictures – as so many of these Roman churches are, with facades that don’t seem to indicate much, but which, once you step inside, are bursting with decoration, art and energy. The HQ of the Society was here for many years. To the left is the shrine containing the remains of St. Gaspar – it’s in the typical sleeping-under-the-altar style, but a little different than others because the figure of St. Gaspar is some sort of metal (in or under which I suppose the remains are encased), and it’s not behind glass – it’s right there, so that as you kneel in prayer, you can touch – if you want to. Which, of course, Joseph did, as Michael told him that this was a "real superhero" – and if you read the stories of St. Gaspar’s life, you’ll see what he meant.

So, full circle in a sense. St. Gaspar has followed us around for six years now, and we, at the end of our Roman journey, followed him to where his earthly body rests.