Lourdes
“On February 11th, 1858…”
My dear friend David - who is no longer Catholic - often would come up behind me repeating these lines from the movie, “Song of Bernadette” - even when we were in the monastery together. I missed his “Sound of Music” style wedding to Stephanie because I was in Lourdes the day they were married, in fact, I stopped at the Grotto to pray for them as I left for Compostella.
Lourdes was a wonderful stop on my pilgrimage. I stayed there a long time on my way to and from Compostella. I had desired to visit Lourdes since I was rather little, maybe 7 or 8 years old.
There is a special joy at Lourdes, one easily feels the consoling presence of the Blessed Virgin. I would like to go back one day.
When I left enclosed monastic life to live as a pilgrim I had composed a rule of life, endorsed by the Abbot and my Father Master. I read part of it today, while reminiscing about Lourdes and how I labored there to earn my keep. I worked for an Irish nun, whose name I cannot remember. She operated a “free” hotel for Irish pilgrims, many of them reformed youth. (There were paying guests, but she kept a large section for those who could not pay.) I asked for the jobs no one else wanted to do, thus getting to know the bad boys.
Here is a section of my rule:
On earning a living.
“The pilgrim shall strive to associate with the lowly, the humble, the poor, the outcast…since that is what he is. He shall likewise prefer unskilled work, without esteem or status. It is preferable if the world considers him ridiculous or wasting his talents.
The pilgrim works only in accord with his needs, without concern for recognition or promotion. When he is called to move on he will earn a sufficient amount of money for support on his sojourn. The pilgrim must strive to be self-sufficient, content to go without.” - Rule of a Pilgrim
It wasn’t always easy. Departing from Lourdes I noticed a group from l’Arche, Jean Vanier’s community who live with the disabled. A young man from Quebec was having some difficulty with his companion who was in a wheel chair. I overheard him speaking to some well-to-do American tourists about how difficult his task was. After they past by, I went to help him get his patient down to the Grotto. I asked him something about l’Arche and he responded rather haughtily in French that he did not understand English - demonstrating he had no time for me.
I lost it. I yelled at him, “F*** you b***h! I just heard you whining to those Americans, speaking perfect English….etc.” I continued to rebuke him for his snobbery and lack of charity. To my surprise, he was obviously shaken and somewhat frightened by my vulgar outburst and he apologized profusely, in English. It was the lowest point in my visit to Lourdes, my profanity and anger in the sacred atmosphere of peace and joy.
I went away humbled and penitent, returning to make my confession at the Basilica before I left - praying many rosaries for the young man I insulted.
Being despised and held in no esteem, appearing ridiculous, is always a tough thing to accept. Although for me, it has always been easy to achieve.
February 11th, 2007 at 7:57 pm
Terry: Wow! You are obviously still caring your shame from this incident around. Let it go.
You strike me as being outspoken and “prickly” but not unlikeable. We’ve never met so I could be speaking out of turn.
We all have things we have said or written that we regret. Me too.
February 11th, 2007 at 8:05 pm
Cathy - It’s not the shame of that incident, rather the numerous others I still commit.
I’m kind of like a cute dog who bites when provoked. (Well, an old dog, I’m not cute any longer.)
But thanks. Woof!
February 11th, 2007 at 8:45 pm
Well, I’ve met him, and I’ve seen him incognito, and he’s not only not cute, but may be a bit on the mangy side, although not quite yet a geezer, but still well worth reading and listening to.
sgd.
Yr. Imparshull O’server
February 11th, 2007 at 9:06 pm
Raymond:
Yeah. In my mind I’m still that cute pup all the girl dogs chased down the street. Age happens!
February 11th, 2007 at 9:20 pm
I’m very adept at sticking both feet in my mouth at the same time, & no, I don’t consider it a gift… although I do thank God for the confessional when I’ve done an especially thorough job of it!
PS
You sure do sound cute:)
February 11th, 2007 at 9:21 pm
e.
February 12th, 2007 at 8:19 am
What is really more interesting is the question as to why a Quebecois who probably spoke an accented French that many French wouldn’t have understood, would refuse help from an English speaking volunteer at Lourdes.
And, why he was complaining in the first place?
And, why the “well-to-do American tourists” didn’t help him.
February 12th, 2007 at 12:44 pm
Dear Terry, I spent one summer at Lourdes and saw all kinds of things that would give scandal to the faint-hearted. (Just spend enough time at the Astoria hotel Irish piano bar and you will see and hear all kinds of things. Believe me.) Don’t worry about it. I have told people off, too, at Lourdes (although I managed to avoid profanity, by the grace of God.)
Yes, people can be difficult there; their faults and prejudices follow them to that holy place. The struggle between good and evil is intensified at Lourdes. And I think the crowds make people irritable. Thank God, they have the confessionals open for many hours every day….