The Miracle That is Lourdes

At first glance, Lourdes, France, a small town of less than 15,000 residents in the Pyrenees mountains close by the border between France and Spain, is an unlikely tourist spot, particularly this time of year when the weather can range from hot and sunny, to cold and rainy, or to snow and sleet – all in the same week. Yet official records reflect that Lourdes hosted 2.5 million visitors (pilgrims) in 2022, a number that, pre-pandemic, had averaged between four and six million annually and included visitors from over 150 countries (for reference, there are 193 member states in the United Nations). Approximately 350 hotels service these crowds, a number that, per kilometer, is second in France only to Paris.

So what brings so many people to Lourdes every year? Lourdes is famous because on 18 separate occasions in 1858, a poor young peasant girl named Bernadette Soubirous experienced and interacted with visions of “a beautiful lady” who appeared in a niche high in the wall of an open cave (grotto) at Massabielle, a literal town dump on the outskirts of town. When asked her name, the lady replied, “I am the Immaculate Conception," a title and concept the illiterate Bernadette could never have heard, imagined or understood, and which could reasonably apply only to the Virgin Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ. Skeptical at first, local Church officials eventually accepted the validity of these Marian apparitions and established Lourdes as an important Marian shrine. The Massabielle Grotto is also the site of a spring, uncovered by Bernadette during one of the apparitions, the water of which is credited with many unexplained physical cures, some of which have been determined to be miraculous.

I, myself, have made many trips to Lourdes over the past 35 years, all with the Order of Malta, a Catholic lay religious order founded in the 11th century and often known as the Knights Hospitaller or the Knights of Malta (full name: Sovereign Military Hospitaller Order of St. John of Jerusalem, of Rhodes and of Malta; while no longer military, the Order continues its hospitaller tradition by caring for the poor and sick). Members of the Order from more than 50 countries gather in Lourdes on pilgrimage each year in early May. This year was my 13th such trip. It is quite an experience.

I am regularly asked if I have seen or experienced a miracle in Lourdes. What I can say is that I have personally witnessed multiple instances of emotional and spiritual healing, of acceptance and reconciliation among family members, and of the receipt of a deep and lasting peace that has transformed many lives in often unanticipated ways. Permit me to share one particular story.

In 1994, a good friend of mine in his mid-30s (we’ll call him Bill) was diagnosed with an aggressive form of brain cancer. He underwent surgery but it was not possible to remove all of the tumor, and his future prognosis was very bad. Bill and his wife (we’ll call her Nancy) had three small boys, and were heartbroken at the thought that the boys could be fatherless at such a young age.

In the spring of 1995, Bill and Nancy joined the Order’s annual Lourdes pilgrimage, Bill as a malade (the French word for “sick;” the Order prefers to interpret the word as “patient” or “guest”), and Nancy as his caregiver. I attended the trip as well; my wife Helen could not join us as our son John had just been born two months earlier. At one point during the flight over, I glanced across the plane at Bill and Nancy, and was deeply saddened to see in their faces the obvious toll that Bill’s illness was taking on their relationship.

In Lourdes, Bill and Nancy took part in all of the pilgrimage activities, but also found time to spend alone with each other. Both very athletic, they even climbed a nearby mountain to enjoy the stunning views. Upon their return, they seemed to me to be once again the couple I had known. As is often the case, this trip proved to be of as much benefit to the caregiver as to the malade.

On the flight home, I once again looked over at Bill and Nancy on the other side of the plane. This time, I was delighted to see evidence of the obvious improvement in their relationship. That, I thought, was my Lourdes miracle for the trip.

Approximately six months later, Nancy reached out to Helen and invited us to dinner. About halfway through the meal, Bill shared some news: he had just undergone a battery of tests and, to the consternation of his doctors, the results showed no sign of any remaining tumor in his brain. You can imagine our delight.

For the next six years, Bill was cancer free. His career in finance flourished and he and Nancy focused happily on raising their boys. Our families were very close, and our children and theirs became as blended siblings.

And then, the cancer returned.

Unfortunately, our physical miracle was not to be permanent. Bill died in the fall of 2001, thankfully unaware of the challenges of that time. But the six years of reprieve had been a tremendous gift; Nancy and Bill had grown closer, the boys had time to know and spend time with their father, and the family was financially secure. That, Helen and I believe, was the real Lourdes miracle.

Bill died at home, and we brought our children over to the house to say our last farewells. By accident, someone left the front door open, and a bird flew into the house, flitted about all around the house, dropped a feather in the oldest boy’s bedroom, then exited as it had entered. On our ride home, we mused that it was as if Bill was visiting all of us for the last time.

Then our son John, who was about six years old at the time, spoke up and said, “I saw [Bill],” to which we replied, “Yes, we all saw him at the house.” “No,” John said, “I saw him in heaven. He was just like he normally was, except he was made of stars. He wanted me to tell everybody that he is all right and he loves everyone.”

Out of the mouths of babes. Bernadette was just fourteen years old when Our Lady invited her to drink and wash in the then-unseen spring in the Grotto, and instructed her to “Go, tell the priests to come here in procession and tell them to build a chapel here.” (Thirteen years later, the Basilica of the Immaculate Conception opened directly above the Grotto, candle-lit processions of the faithful occur to this day, and the spring has never stopped flowing.)

And the three peasant children in Fatima who in 1917 were entrusted with urgent messages for all mankind by “a Lady all in white, more beautiful than the sun … indescribably beautiful” were only ten, nine and seven.

Is it merely a coincidence that these apparitions, revelations, and messages have been given to children rather than adults? The Bible records Jesus’ response to his disciples’ question “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” as follows (Matthew 18:1-5):

He called a child over, placed it in their midst, and said, “Amen, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever receives one child such as this in my name receives me.”

We are not called to be childish, but to be child-like in willingness to believe. The heart of a child, not yet hardened by the world’s dark cynicism, remains open to, and welcoming of, the unexpected and the inexplicable, the wondrous and the miraculous. Perhaps that is indeed the true lesson of Lourdes: we must unharden and open our hearts, be alive and receptive to the possibility that there could be more to life than that which can be seen, that while our lives may not proceed as we would wish, all will in the end be well, and that our “childish” faith in a loving God will ultimately be rewarded in ways beyond the capacity of our mortal understanding.

Is that too much to ask?