Lourdes: Personal Reflections: Water

A pilgrimage is a journey toward the Lord with a purpose. It is not a destination, but a process. It is not the visitation of a place, but a deep experience felt in the internal kingdom of God, the soul. It is not tourism, but purposeful exploration. Although, in my case, the purpose at the time was somewhat unclear. As I wrote before, I felt called to the grotto by the Blessed Mother, and I answered, somewhat unsure of what I would find. In many ways, the pilgrimage that started at Lourdes is still underway—a journey, with the ultimate destination being God, where all our journeys begin and end!
When I think of my pilgrimage to Lourdes—the trip which inspired this year of prayer—it is difficult to think of just one thing to write about. Each moment was meaningful, whether it was praying the Rosary during the Candlelight procession surrounded by pilgrims speaking Italian, French, Spanish, Dutch, German, English and countless other languages, embracing the profound silence despite the masses of people at the sacred grotto, or being moved by the tireless service of the young and old volunteers pushing, wheeling, and carrying the sick, disabled, or infirm around the Sanctuary. For at Lourdes, the sick have priority, are the “royalty” of visitors—they who are often treated as last by society, are made first.

This quality of service pervades the entire region, and is not simply limited to the Sanctuary. Thousands volunteer each year to have the privilege of assisting the sick, paying their own way and expenses. They wear simple uniforms, minister to those in need, and provide hospitality to all. These men and women are the light of Christ, alive and present throughout Lourdes. Airplanes are greeted at the airport and trains are greeted at the station. Armed with wheelchairs, stretchers, and unique chair-wagons, these ministers of hospitality spend hours each day lifting and carrying the sick, those who have come to Lourdes with faith in the promise of the Blessed Virgin, confidence in the Lord, and hope in the healing springs of water.

And that may be the center of Lourdes—the springs of water. Spigots line the walkway near the bank of the river, pilgrims filling their canteens and water bottles, drinking the pure and restorative water. And pilgrims queue for hours, awaiting their chance to bathe in the spring as the Blessed Mother instructed—

“Go and drink from the spring and bathe in it.”

I had a relatively short time in Lourdes, and honestly, I had little intention of bathing in the spring. The process is quite time-consuming, given that one must queue with other pilgrims, and wait for the opportunity. Given that the Lord blessed me as able-bodied, I realized that I would also be prioritized behind all those pilgrims who were sick or disabled (as well I should have been!). So, I went about my time in Lourdes with a rough plan, but tried to remain open to the Spirit… and that’s how I found myself sitting in the queue I had planned to avoid, noting with some degree of anxiety, that I was going to bathe.

Now, a few words about the logistics of this endeavor. There are two long, low buildings in which pilgrims wait, sliding on benches, being directed to move as small groups are ushered into the bath areas. One building is for men, the other for women. Pilgrims wait on the baths, prayerfully reciting a common Rosary, awaiting direction. When it is your turn, you are moved in small groups of eight to ten into the antechamber, where you wait on another bench. Before you are small curtained rooms, that one by one individual pilgrims are called into. While you wait, you see wet pilgrims leaving these curtained areas, oftentimes with looks of great calm and relief on their faces.

And that may be because if they are like me, the process was anxiety provoking. I was nervous. The act of bathing was unsettling for the obvious reasons that in the process one strips away their physical representations of protection, defenses, and privacy—namely one’s clothing. But on a deeper level, the bathing was the stripping away of those things that prevent us from remaining open to God, a moment of complete vulnerability and nakedness in the eyes of the Lord where all sins are laid bare, a re-commitment to the baptism to Christ that we may have experienced as infants long before we were cognitively, emotionally, and spiritually ready to make that commitment for ourselves.

And for that reason, the act of bathing in the Lourdes spring required some thought and prayer… and a great deal of confidence in the Lord. Known for healing power, with more than 60 miraculous cures of physical illnesses on record, one is also left with the deep and personal question of the aspects of one’s life which need the healing power of God, in this case, through the powerful intercession of Our Blessed Mother. Again, not a question one answers easily or quickly, and yet, here I was, called to the baths, moved by the Sprit, and I didn’t have all the answers.

And then it was my turn. I was called into the curtained off room, where five other men sat on plastic chairs, waiting to be called through another curtain—behind which could be heard prayer and water. An attendant greeted me, showed me to “my chair” and helped me disrobe and hang up my clothing on the hooks behind me. It should be noted that these greeters, and those that assist in the baths, spend their days cold and wet, selflessly praying with and physically lowering and lifting pilgrims into and out of the marble basins of spring water. It is back-breaking and uncomfortable work, and without exception, they smile and have the joy of serving the Lord visible on their faces. But it’s also the small things that stay with you at Lourdes. For example, my greeter, probably over sixty years old, gestured for me to sit. Not speaking English, and me not al all proficient in French, he promptly knelt in the cold pooled water, and unlaced and removed my shoes for me, both a surprising and moving moment, this man’s heart of service filling the enclosure. As I sat and waited to be called through the next curtain, surrounded by individuals seemingly as nervous as I, each in quiet prayer, this man continued to help and reassure them.

When it was finally my turn, I was called into the bathing area, disrobed completely, had a wet (freezing!) towel wrapped around my waist, and was physically lowered into the marble basin filled with fresh spring water which is approximately 50 degrees. Together, the attendants prayed with me, despite language barriers, and then dunked me into the water, praying over me (“Our Lady of Lourdes, pray for us. Saint Bernadette pray for us. Blessed Virgin, pray for those who have recourse to thee.”) After venerating a small statue of Our Lady of Lourdes, I was pulled from the basin, and it was over. Strangely, my anxiety was completely gone, and instead, replaced with a calm and sense of renewal. My time in the water was probably 30 seconds, maybe a minute… but upon getting out, I felt clean. And grateful to the Lord. And changed in some way, as if my heart had been opened and refined.

The water of Lourdes is so cold that no towels are necessary. Within minutes of stepping out of the baths, pilgrims are perfectly dry, given the difference in body temperature versus the water. You return to the previous chamber, redress with assistance (yes, my shoes were replaced and tied for me), and then you’re back in the Sanctuary, surrounded by pilgrims, but somehow changed.

The water of Lourdes teaches us humility and removes pride and vanity from our hearts. We realize that only by stripping ourselves bare, literally and metaphorically, do we realize that we are in great need of the Lord’s assistance in our daily lives, that we are not self-sufficient. It is a moment of fundamental conversion, re-dedicating ourselves to the Lord, and the life which He would have us lead as modeled by the Blessed Virgin and by Christ. Like Bernadette, who dug through the mud to find the water as Our Lady instructed, it is a profound act of faith, a call to dig deeper within ourselves, and find the pure wellspring of the Lord that lies within.




A prayer for the baths at Lourdes

O Lord, you know how nervous I have become and how anxious I am about being moved or carried by others.
Take away my fear, and let me remember that I am in the hands of those who have great experience, and who their task with your loving care.
Let my bathing in the water be a sign of my faith in you.
Ease my pain, Lord: help me to trust, and give me the joy of feeling you near.
O God, to whom all hearts are open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hidden, cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the outpouring of your Holy Sprit, that every thought and word of ours may begin from you, and in you be perfectly completed, through Christ our Lord. Amen.


(from The Lourdes Pilgrim: A Prayerbook and Guide by Oliver Todd)