Before 7:30 am on July 1st, Megan and I were waiting to catch a train from the Toulouse-Matabiau station. A thunderstorm the night before had cleared out the summer heat, and it was a rainy, gray morning. We were joined on the platform by a monk in a brown cloak, two nuns, and a considerable number of disabled people who had to stand with the support of crutches.
All of us were bound for Lourdes - a small town in the Pyrenees. The sacred grotto in Lourdes is a Catholic pilgrimage destination because the water that flows from the spring is believed to have healing powers. Many of the people on the train must have hoped to experience a biblical miracle.
(Lourdes, Occitanie region, France)
Megan and I were less interested in the grotto and more interested in the natural scenery of Lourdes. The two-hour train journey took us through forests and fields of wheat and sunflowers. The Pyrenees loomed on the horizon with mist swirling around their peaks.
As we arrived in Lourdes, the sun burned off the rain clouds. Unlike the pilgrims, our first destination in Lourdes was not a religious site. First, we climbed the stone steps to Lourdes’ fortified medieval castle. The old defense platform offers a 360 degree view of the town and surrounding mountains. The view was impressive enough to convince us that Lourdes is worthy of being a pilgrimage destination - for faithful and unfaithful travelers alike.
The misty rain returned as we trekked toward the cathedral, following a blue line of paint on the road. As we drew nearer, we passed countless shops that capitalized on the Catholic pilgrimage. For at least a mile before the cathedral, you could buy crucifixes, bottles for holy water, and statuettes of the Virgin Mary. One shop even sold an assortment of perfumes meant to represent the aroma of different biblical angels.
Before entering the cathedral, we veered up a steep forested path. It is called Chemin de Croix - a path lined with statues depicting the stations of the cross. The first is a tableau of Jesus condemned to death by the Romans.
As you hike uphill, increasingly fatigued and sweaty, you encounter each scene in the story of Jesus’ crucifixion.
We joined a group that was led by a priest. Each time the group reached a new station, we would all have to fall to our knees in the dirt in front of the statues and recite ‘we adore you oh Christ and we praise you.’ Then the priest would read a description of the scene and lead a prayer.
At the top of the hill was the most impressive tableau - a larger-than-life scene of Jesus dying on the cross. Then we headed down the other side of the hill to the final tableau of Jesus’ body being carried into a cave. The environment that surrounded us - the trees and the mountain peaks shrouded in mist - were enough in themselves to inspire spiritual contemplation.
Having completed the Chemin de Croix, we returned to the cathedral. From the outside, the cathedral is very impressive. From the inside, however, it is a fairly standard cathedral. Once you’ve visited several of them, they all start to look the same. Below the cathedral, on the opposite side from the Chemin de Croix, is the strangest and most striking sight in Lourdes.
From the cathedral steps, we looked down toward the sacred grotto and saw a long line of nuns pushing people in wheelchairs. They were all sick and dying people who had come to receive a miracle from the holy water of the spring. A service was taking place, and we joined the crowd gathered in front of the grotto. From what we could see, it was only a little cave with a statue of Mary in the center. Water from the spring was directed into troughs, and people could collect the holy water from spigots to take home with them.
Somewhere inside the cave was a priest, but we couldn’t see him. His disembodied voice was projected over an invisible loudspeaker. He spoke in English with a musical, hypnotic Indian accent. His voice recited the Hail Mary prayer twice, then spoke a prayer for the sick
people who hoped to be healed, then recited
the Hail Mary again. It was trance-inducing. People nodded and swayed over rosary beads, reciting the same words over-and-over along with him until the words themselves lost all meaning.
I watched the endless line of people wheeled into the cave to be anointed with water from the spring. One woman clutched the walls of the cave as she was being led out, as if she believed the stone would save her.
We left the congregation and wandered off to continue exploring. ‘I was hoping to have a religious experience,’ Megan said as the priests’ voice faded away behind our backs. ‘But I didn’t feel anything.’
I agreed with her. We weren't interested in seeing any more of that kind of thing, we wanted to see more of the trees and the mountains instead.
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