Wednesday, August 15, 2012

In Search of Healing: Eros or Agape?

So, as some (or most) of you might know, last week from Wednesday to Friday I stayed in Lourdes, France.  Lourdes, France is well known today as a place of healing for the sick -- in 1858, a poor woman Bernadette Soubirous had several apparitions of what is now determined to have been the Immaculate Conception or the Virgin Mary.  Bernadette's experiences with the apparition led her to discover a grotto -- now housing a healing spring -- and also to demand that a priest build a church on the site.  Bernadette had not stated that the spring had healing properties, but after her discoveries, people began to claim that they were miraculously cured by the spring water.  I suppose that these claims originate in the belief that the Virgin Mary led Bernadette to discover the spring for its miraculous healing properties.

Bernadette and the Immaculate Conception (image: sistermariepierre.com)

Today, the sick flock to Lourdes for comfort and healing.  Over 7,000 miraculous cures have been claimed, but only 67 have been acknowledged as 'unexplainable' or 'inexplicable' by the Catholic Church and the Lourdes Medical Bureau.  The Lourdes Medical Bureau itself originates from the skepticism that has always surrounded the miracles, even from the 19th century.  It subjects each miraculous claim to intense scrutiny, sending the patient files to several different doctors before determining that the 'cure' was truly unexplainable in terms of the scientific discoveries of the time.  I suppose Lourdes feels the need to legitimize miraculous claims because it would like to deflect skepticism and safeguard the holiness of the place against fraud.

Crutches hanging at the grotto, as a testament to the miracle cures of Lourdes.

I had expected that this trip would be a highly spiritual experience for me -- especially from participating the candlelight procession at night; however, I found the procession to be disappointing and not as beautiful.  I wish there had been more singing.  

I also didn't watch the procession from above.  I bet it would have been more enjoyable.
Singing Ave Maria and holding up lit candles in the procession. (Image:  author).

I did get what I expected -- a spiritual awakening -- but in much of a different form.  Lourdes is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been in my life.  I felt calm and stable in this place.  I didn't worry about too much, and everywhere I looked I could see a wonder of nature.  

View from the River in Lourdes
Sunrise from the Village des Jeunes (where I stayed) and the medieval fort at Lourdes











I concluded from my experience in Lourdes that beautiful natural surroundings and community [not just the religious fervor] are what make Lourdes into such a healing and spiritual place.  In the morning, I would awake to the soft breeze coming in through my window, and walk outside to breakfast welcomed by beautiful mountains.  Tears welled up in my eyes as I sung in a mass held in three languages, surrounded by French and Italian youth that didn't even know English.  While tightly grasping the hand of the French youth next to me during the Our Father, I remembered that love is a universal language. And with sincerity in my eyes, I shook hands and made peace with the various multicultural participants of the candlelight procession.  In the evening, upon returning to the Village des Jeunes, I embraced an ascetic existence, attempting to leave myself to quiet thought.  Honestly, I surprised myself, because I made it three entire days without connection to the outside world (I chose not to bother finding WiFi).     Through this visit and my various experiences, I learned a lot about myself -- that I enjoy singing, that I want to learn an instrument, that I want to take dance lessons, and that sketching the wilderness is almost like a form of meditation.

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So, now that you know the facets of my experiences at Lourdes, I think that I can explain to you why I feel that Modern Lourdes has gone down a detrimental path.  To me, the religious experience of Lourdes is at odds with the natural experience of Lourdes.  When Bernadette Soubirous discovered the grotto at Lourdes, it would have had a virginal, untouched quality.  It would have been a marvel of the wilderness, not a marvel of human contrivance.

When Bernadette discovered the Grotto, it took several years (around 15, at least) for any large church to be built on the site.  Several healings took place during this time -- I wonder what these were like!  Maybe they owe their power to the power of nature, because I imagine that in addition to the grotto, the trees and river were central to the experience of cures.  Today, however, the beauty of the grotto is crushed under the oppressive weight of a humongous church above, and the bounty of the mountain spring has been bridled with spigots.

The beautiful grotto, smothered by a massive church above.  Maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but imagine how beautiful it would have been if you could see the sky or trees that would have been above!  OR the trees that would have surrounded it.
I think the way that nature has been treated at Lourdes is connected to points made in my Paris post on the unveiling and exploitation of nature.  The grotto at Lourdes is definitely a feminine symbol, and this is obviously exemplified that the Virgin Mary has her shrine here.  The visitors to Lourdes may venerate Mary, but they do not realize that they are also partaking in a symbolic exploitation of Mother Earth.  The grotto at Lourdes has three main symbols that establish it as feminine -- the grotto itself, womblike and all encompassing; the spring and its spigots, like a free-flowing supply of milk; and water -- submissive, passive, and omnipresent.  When Amanda stated something in class about how people were screaming and fighting to get at the spouts of water at the grotto, my thoughts congealed.  Desperate for a cure, healing, or some sort of benefit from Mother Earth, many visitors to Lourdes clamber like hungry piglets around a sow's nipples.

Romulus and Remus, suckling from a she-wolf.
I think it's interesting to notice that Lourdes wouldn't work if it was masculine.  It would not make sense if Jesus Christ was enshrined here.  Therefore, while my observations might be a little grandiose, I think it's definitely worth mentioning these symbols and connections.

What would Lourdes look like if it embodied a sense of agape for nature, rather than eros?

I envision an experience focused on the grotto and spring itself.  The way Lourdes is set up at the moment, the grotto is tucked behind the humongous church.  Instead, I think, visitors should directly view the grotto, then continue upwards and around it.  If the site was rearranged, perhaps you would take a procession into the forest, cross the river, and enter the site of the grotto from some sort of bridge.  The grotto would be secluded and quiet.  According to what I heard on the tour, Bernadette even approached the grotto in this way, and she would take her shoes off before crossing the river [I hope I'm remembering correctly] in reverence for the holy grotto.    When conceptualizing Lourdes before arrival, I honestly thought that you would have to pass through a church to get to the grotto, and the grotto would be some quiet, secluded location in nature!  ... I ended up being really wrong.

A more reverent approach to nature reminds me of the spa town in Eureka Springs, Arkansas.  The healing spring that was discovered here in the 1850s is now memorialized but in a much more reverent way. The cliffs above it are free from obstruction, and the area itself feels womb-like and open to the sky.  [I wish I had better pictures].



This might not be perfect, but I think it's a welcome example.

Another building in Eureka Springs, a church to Jesus Christ, called Thorncrown, also seems to act as a monument to nature and a monument to Christianity.  At first, the chapel was going to be built in another location on the same site, but the owner of the land -- highly religious -- intervened, and had the location of the chapel changed based on his account of communications with God [this reminds me of Bernadette]. Thorncrown has been rated among the top 10 buildings in the United States by the American Institute of Architects, and I think rightly so. [If you want to peruse a lot of pictures, go here:  http://www.thorncrown.com/]




The architect of Thorncrown, E. Fay Jones, studied under Frank Lloyd Wright.  Frank Lloyd Wright is known for his buildings that connect with nature -- one of his most well-known buildings is Fallingwater in Pennsylvania.  Nevertheless, Thorncrown acts as direct foil for the ideology behind the church at Lourdes.  In stark contrast to the architect at Lourdes, Fay Jones approached this project with a sense of 'agape' for nature.  He insisted that in the construction of the chapel that no heavy machinery be used, since such machinery risked damaging the ecology of the site.  Furthermore, the entire chapel was constructed by hand, and all the pieces of lumber were of manageable size for teams of men to carry them in their arms.  In these ways, Thorncrown's design seeks to treat nature with respect, and in doing so, has created one of the most spiritually uplifting places I have ever visited.  Thorncrown brought tears to my eyes at the time of my first visit.

Now, I ask:  What if something with a similar sort of outlook had been the shrine at Lourdes?  The soft sound of running water trickling as you sit calmly in a pew?  A place sheltered from the elements yet connected to them?  A place that prostrates you before the wonders of nature?  Perhaps such qualities would increase the adoration of Mother Mary and/or Mother Nature's grace.

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