A week away from one’s daily existence seems all that much longer a break when it has been spent in Lourdes and I write this now while the experience is not only still fresh in my mind but also hopefully resistant to old habits settling in again.
Pilgrimage is a journey and a discovery, and how ever many times I return to this holy enclave in the foothills of the Pyrenees, the process endures- each trip providing both renewal and a fresh encounter in most unexpected ways. It is in the pleasant surprises breaking through the pain and heartache and dark clouds of foreboding that Lourdes reaches out and converts. Therein lays its deepest mystery.
To the uninitiated, first encounters can be off-putting. The numerous gift shops with items ranging from cuddly toys making wolf-whistles to luminous virgins with moving eyes, the cafe waiters touting for business as if the menu de jour had turned into a bordello, the hotels with their neon lights and piped music- these are all scenes that seem to collectively conspire against any sense of mystical experience.
And then there are the crowds, testing one’s tolerance of fellow men and women to its limit. Visitors to Lourdes are not an orderly, quiet lot on the whole. The Italians and French make it clear they are the dominant occupying force in a loud acquisitive manner more suited to a busy urban shopping centre than a small town made famous by a shrine.
And yet to survive this –as we all do-without losing one’s patience or temper before entering the domain of sanctuaries and holy grotto at its centre is to experience a rite of passage away from the maddening crowd and into another kind of humanity where faith rather than money calls the shots.
It is here, in and around the Grotto-where the 14 year old shepherdess Bernadette Subirous saw her ‘lady’ in the niche in 1858- that Lourdes delivers its most moving engagement between those in need of help and those prepared to give it . Together they contribute to a rich tapestry of interconnected prayer services and cleansing rituals: from masses and torch lights processions, to more intimate candle offerings or washing in the waters. If Lourdes helps you to spend a long week without feeling it necessary to check on emails, phone texts, and keep up with 24 hours TV news it is because it connects you in its own way to a world one had forgotten to see or listen to, where the inner self and that of the ‘other’ engage in a more positive, uncluttered , and profound dialogue.
Each one of us returns from Lourdes, cherishing those moments of pleasant surprise I referred to earlier which can prove both humbling and inspirational. While these moments can be, by their very nature, intensely personal, they also touch us collectively, and manage in the process to rekindle our faith in a God of love.
Some of my own pleasant surprises came from experiencing at first-hand the pain of others, along with the self-less dedication of fellow volunteers –old and young-to those in their care, and the sick or disabled’s own loving response, however late the hour, however much the suffering that had been gone through or was undoubtedly still to come. But carers also found the space and time to talk to each other in a way that no social network could possibly facilitate. They rediscovered more about their true selves, regardless of social position or job title.
Somehow our souls are nourished by the place just as Bernadette’s was. In the late hours we are surprised by Lourdes and come away with an inner joy we feel we should share with others. In the week I switched off my I-Pod. TV, and computer, the grotto late at night shone with a quiet brilliance, the dappled dawn brought its own testament to God’s Glory as did the stillness I rediscovered with fellow pilgrims (all of them half my age) at the summit of the Pic du Jer with its panoramic view of the beautiful landscape surrounding Lourdes. Not all of us slept through the big thunderstorm the next night but once it was over, the river had regained its strength and clarity. Carers and cared for-pilgrims all-seemed drawn to it. The bend in it, held us in prayer.
To be published in The Tablet 8/9/201
