“A wonderful gift may not be wrapped as you expect.”
Jonathan Lockwood Huie
After three months of all of this physical and emotional confinement, I thought I would use this post for a humorous and touching story from one of my previous trips to Southwest France. It’s a long read, but I hope you enjoy it.
A brief history of Lourdes, France
Two years ago, I had my first visit to this part of France. I was here to heal, surround myself with European distractions and try to reignite the energy I had before Darin became ill. It would be my first of three trips. As I mentioned in my previous post, my good friend from California, Maurine, settled here over four years ago, and she has sheltered me the last few months.
When I first came here in 2018, I decided to fulfill a lifelong desire and take a road-trip to visit the town of Lourdes, France in the foothills of the Pyrenees. If you don’t know the story of Lourdes, it is one of the most visited religious pilgrimage sites in in the world. It became prominent after reports that the Virgin Mary appeared to a peasant girl, Bernadette Soubirous in 1858.
The story goes on to say that after over a dozen visits, the Virgin Mary asked Bernadette to drink from a spring that she would find if she dug into the ground near the visitation. Bernadette followed her instructions, dug into the earth, and soon a spring began to gurgle forward from a grotto. Soon many locals heard the story and began reporting healing properties from the water. The Virgin Mary also told Bernadette that people would make pilgrimages to the site and to tell the church to build a place of worship at the grotto. After several convincing miracles, the Catholic Church agreed to build several worship sites, and finally in 1988 the Church of St. Bernadette became the last of the sites on the original ground of the grotto.
Each year, over 5 million people show up to visit the site, bathe in the grotto water, participate in the nightly processions, and generally seek a cure or find peace for what ails them. If you want to know more about the story of Bernadette Soubirous and the town of Lourdes, this site provides a good history of the Sanctuary of Our Lady of Lourdes.
I first heard of Lourdes when I was a child. A cousin of mine made a pilgrimage to Lourdes and brought me back a souvenir. It was a small plastic bottle in the shape of the Virgin Mary filled with holy water from the grotto of Lourdes. I kept that prized bottle for several years and vaguely remember using it at some point when I was hoping for something miraculous. I don’t recall what it was, or if it worked, but that was the end of my bottle. However, my interest in Lourdes remained. Fast forward to 2018, I found myself road-tripping to Lourdes, perhaps to seek my own healing. I was excited to see the place. Good Lord I’m in Lourdes of all places.
A bit disappointed at first
Upon arriving, my immediate reaction was, “This looks like a Catholic version of Disneyland.” When I drove into town I was astonished by the sheer magnitude of tourists, shops catering to tourists, and the seas of ecclesiastics. I have never seen so many collars, cassocks and habits on display. Not even Vatican City had so many religious clerics. I had that immediate reaction to be on my best behavior and show reverence to anybody that looked like they were “in the club,” even though I had fallen out of the Catholic club a long time ago.
After I checked into my hotel, I set off to visit the sites beyond the tourist trap enveloping the town. As I walked to the Sanctuary, I passed by hundreds of shops and street vendors selling, you guessed it, Virgin Mary shaped plastic bottles of “holy grotto water.” There were thousands of bottles everywhere in all shapes and sizes. The childhood belief in that bottle quickly shattered.
I powered on to the main religious site, the Sanctuary of Our Lady of Lourdes, and found myself relieved once I entered the compound. It felt less like a tourist trap and more of a destination for pilgrims. It was easy to be overtaken by the sheer volume of people on crutches, individuals riding in wheelchairs and others being assisted by white-dressed volunteers. The numbers of visitors easily reached the tens of thousands that day. That is when I first felt the reverence of this place. Not among the tourist shops with their religious trinkets, or the masses of tourists, but in the faces of those seeking healing as a reward for their pilgrimage to the Sanctuary of Our Lady of Lourdes.
A change in perspective
Even though I don’t follow a religion, I do believe in the power of a place of worship, whether it’s a cathedral, basilica, temple or mosque. One doesn’t need to visit a building to be spiritual, but when one does, you can’t help but feel the energy that has concentrated itself over the years in those sacred spaces. I believe everybody who truly seeks light in these spaces leaves a little bit behind when they depart. The energy of hope and faith mixed with the humility of being one among the thousands of pilgrims.
As you approach the lower part of the grounds, you can visit the actual grotto where Bernadette’s visitations occurred. It is also where pilgrims line up to be “bathed.” There were hundreds of people waiting that afternoon for the grotto bath. You could see a cross section of the world standing there ready to seek their gift from the Virgin Mary.
I can’t say I wasn’t overwhelmed by the faces I had seen that first day. It was emotional, and I decided I had enough for my first visit. It was late, and I was hungry. I wanted to grab something to eat and then be back to watch the nightly procession, which was a not-to-be-missed event.
I made it back for the procession, and as my picture below shows, it really was a spectacle to see. Thousands of worshippers on foot, crutches and wheelchairs move around the entire basilica circumference until they find themselves in the main square for the prayer. The procession itself took about ninety minutes, while the prayer lasts perhaps twenty minutes. I watched from an elevated vantage point, and I’m glad I didn’t miss it. The constant playing of the “Ave Maria” drifts in the background as the pilgrims flow into the square.
When the procession finished, I hightailed my way back to the hotel to beat the crowds that were emerging from the square. It had been a full day, mentally and physically. I could not wait to sleep. I also wanted to depart Lourdes early and be back by the afternoon.
Contemplating the inevitable
As I laid in bed that night, I kept wondering if I was missing something about my visit. Something told me that I’ve come this far, and I should commit to the entire experience and do the bathing in the grotto.
I didn’t understand the whole concept of “bathing” in the holy water of the grotto. I had no idea what actually happens in that moment, but I assumed it was best reserved for the true believers. The thought of cold cloudy skies and the threat of rain gave me the sense I had seen enough.
As fate would have it, I woke up the next morning to a brilliant sunny day. The kind of day that says, “Go for it!” Remembering the restless night before, I decided to muster the courage and look into the bathing. I packed my backpack, checked out of the hotel, and walked back to the grotto.
It was after 10:00 a.m., and the morning service at the Basilica had started. The line for the “bathing” was short, perhaps 10 minutes at most. I thought that was probably another sign that I should commit. I jumped into line without knowing what was about to unfold.
Within minutes, I am ushered into a long room that has benches on one side of the wall and several curtained-off divided rooms on the other. It reminded me of a high-school athletic gym during annual physical exams. It felt a bit clinical, which made me even more uncomfortable.
The room smelled of dampness and cold stone. I could hear all sorts of languages being spoken and strange noises coming from behind the various drawn curtains. I started to feel anxious about this and regretted not asking the important questions; “What is actually going to be bathed? Is it my feet or my head? Is this like a baptism? Does it hurt?” Clearly I should have done my homework before signing up for the “bathing” experience.
To the right of me sat six older men speaking Portuguese. To my left, sat a handsome man about my age dressed like a model for a Swiss hiking magazine. After a few minutes of quiet nervousness, I leaned over to the Swiss hiker and asked him “Parlez vous anglais?” He replied with a slight German accent, “Yes, I speak English.” I let out a sigh of relief and then asked him, “Do you know what’s about to happen?” He smiled and said, “No. I have no idea. My girlfriend wanted me to do this. She’s in the other room with the women.” Disappointment set in, but then I realized I wasn’t here to find a date. I was here for spiritual significance. I turned my eyes forward and waited.
Did I hear that correctly
A few minutes later, a very jovial and cherubic Irish man came up to us and introduced himself. He had a translator next to him speaking Portuguese. He then proceeded to tell us the following message.
This is where it gets a bit uncomfortable, so pay attention. I’m going to paraphrase a bit:
“Well hello and welcome to the Grotto of our Lady of Lourdes. Today you will be able to feel the power of the healing waters of the Blessed Virgin Mary. You will be fully submerged in the grotto waters. Now before you go into the water, you will need to remove all of your clothes. Keep your underwear on and just sit there until we call you in to the grotto. Once you’re in, you’ll remove your underwear and then you will be plunged into the water. But before that, you’ll have a minute to stand before the Virgin Mary and humbly ask for the healing that brought you here.”
My mind raced with thoughts, “Ah..what? Excuse me, but that’s a lot of instruction to give somebody new to this. I’m not sure what healing I need that brought me here, but I know what I’m looking for right about now. Is this for real? What do you mean by fully submerged? Oh no, I should have just left this morning. Do I really need to stand before the Virgin Mary without underwear? Oh this is so uncomfortable.”
Needless to say, I was in too deep to turn back. I could only comply at that point. The eight of us bathers sheepishly enter the curtained room into a very small space with eight folding chairs. We removed our clothes while bumping elbows and knees. It was all just a bit too close for comfort. We each did our own musical chairs seat selection, and I find myself across from the Swiss hiker. There was nothing pleasant about sitting on a plastic folding chair, barefooted on a wet concrete floor with 7 other guys cramped into a closet- sized space in your underwear. We each waited our turn to go behind a second curtain where all the action happens.
When it was my turn, I entered the grotto room. There were five volunteers standing around what appeared to be a very large stainless-steel bathtub with marble steps descending into the water. Directly in front of me was a very large and ominous statue of the Virgin Mary looking straight at me. I gulped and turned to face the wall, while one of the volunteers wrapped a linen cloth around my waist. It was the same linen cloth they took from the last guy who went into the tub. It was cold and wet. I removed my underwear, put them on a hook above my head and then turned around to face the tub.
Taking the plunge
I stepped into the tub onto the marble stairs while looking directly at the Virgin Mary. The water was not cold, it was glacial. (Think fresh from the Pyrenees snowmelt frigid.) Every part of my body tensed when my feet hit the water. I lost all sense of instruction, and all I could see was the Virgin Mary looking at me. Thankfully the five volunteers guided me through what to do next. They all made the sign of the cross and bowed their heads in prayer.
So there I am thinking, “Oh no. Virgin Mary what do I want? What brought me here today? I haven’t done my homework. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not even a practicing Catholic.” I couldn’t think of what to ask for in the moment. I was cold, naked, wearing a linen handkerchief and without a request in my head. I felt a bit humiliated. Perhaps that was the point.
A pause was necessary. There was no need to rush the moment despite the fact that my feet were becoming numb and my teeth beginning to chatter. After a few deep breaths, I closed my eyes, and then simply said in that quiet internal voice, “Mary, I know something brought me here today, and I’m still trying to find out what that something is. I trust you know what I need.”
I opened my eyes and nodded. The volunteers read my cue and quickly grabbed my legs and arms from behind to lift me into the water. With a final gasp and an immediate shock from the cold, under the water I went in fully-immersed.
When I came up, a bit breathless, they immediately went about the business of preparing for the next group of devotees. They unwrapped me and told me there was no towel. They said it would be foolish to wipe away the healing water for it would mysteriously dry, which it did. I stepped out to an empty room and put on my remaining clothes. The seven people from my group had already departed. I left there feeling alone in my experience, and that’s exactly the way it should have been. It wasn’t possible to talk about what just happened. I was at a loss for words.
Different but better
I drove back to where I was staying in Nérac later than morning. The entire time I was trying to understand the full experience I had over the last 24 hours. I expected my day in Lourdes to be one thing, it was something completely different, not worse…but better. It reminded me that life is rooted in suffering, love, humility, doubt, craziness and humor all wrapped in a balance of some divine faith and a healthy dose of commercialism. I’ll never forget about my first Virgin Mary plastic bottle of holy water, but now the story behind it is so much better. Good Lord I’m in Lourdes!
Thank you for following The Spaghetti Diaries. If you want to follow my blog, please subscribe in the box below. If you like what you read, please share on your social media page or by sending a link via email. Much love and be well! – Luke