Lourdes Pilgrimage - Day 4

Late Morning, Late Night

Today began with a lecture by Dr. Alessandro de Franciscis, the head of the The Medical Bureau of the Sanctuary. His job at Lourdes is to confirm (or not) whether any supposed miraculous healings have natural explanations. He says he’s the most useless doctor in the world, because he only sees patients after they’ve been cured.

He gave an interesting talk about the history of the grotto and how miracles are investigated by the Church. That being said, it was a two-hour slide show, and we didn’t think Amelia would want to sit through it. I went, but Kirrily took Amelia on a little stroll around town.

After lunch, we had a mass for the Anointing of the Sick. This is the second time Amelia has been anointed this way, which is two times too many for a little kid.

Then it was time for dinner, and bed for the little pea. But there was another activity at the Sanctuary that happens every night (after Amelia’s bedtime). Hundreds of people gather for the Marian Procession at 9:00pm, and circle the esplanade.

As the sun goes down, pilgrims buy candles with little paper cups to shield them from the wind (or are given them by the Order of Malta, like me). But virtually no one has matches or a lighter.

I climbed up to the top of the Basilica to watch, and you could clearly see the three or four people who came prepared with something to light their candle. They passed the flame from one person to another, so one light became two, two became four, four became eight, and before you knew it, the whole courtyard was lit up.

I feel like that might be a metaphor for something.

After some introductory prayers, the priests and their helpers began carrying a statue of Mary around the square. The crowd soon followed, creating a great line from one end of the Sanctuary to the other.

At the start, everyone stuck with the groups they came with. But eventually, as some people stopped to take pictures while others hurried to keep up, the crowd became intermingled. They sang songs and prayers in many languages, some I was familiar with, some not: Spanish, Italian, French, English, something that sounded like Dothraki, whatever they speak in Pottsylvania, and Latin, probably.

Every few minutes, the procession would stop, and the priests would recite one of the mysteries of the rosary, and then they’d say the Our Father and Hail Maries. It didn’t matter which priest was speaking in which language, everyone knew what was being said, and responded in their own language. You couldn’t have a more beautiful representation of the Universal Church.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, amen.

O Most Holy Mother of my Jesus, you who saw and felt the extreme desolation of your dear Son, help us in our own time of desolation.

And you saints of Heaven who have passed through this trial, have pity on those who are suffering it now and pray that we be given the grace to be faithful until death.

And in a particular way, dear St. Bernadette, we ask for your intercession for the intentions on our heart, that Amelia be cured of her metachromatic leukodystrophy.

St. Bernadette, you had a beautiful devotion to Our Lady, especially in the most holy Rosary. You carried your Rosary with you when you were in the fields as a shepherdess. You said, “In the evening, when you go to sleep, hold your beads, doze off reciting them. Do like those babies who go to sleep mumbling ‘Mama! Mama!’” Help me to approach Mary with the same childlike faith as you.

Jesus, grow in me, in my heart, in my spirit, in my imagination, and in my senses, by your modesty, your purity, your humility, your zeal, and your love. Grow with your grace, your light, your peace. Grow despite my resistance and my pride. Grow as you did at Nazareth before God and before men, for the glory of your Father.