More Than A Trip Abroad
Photos are HERE

As promised, I am offering this concluding reflection on these two pilgrimages this summer. The next pilgrimage is packing up and leaving on Sunday, 9 August for the French national.

But before, I have the sad duty to conclude the second youth pilgrimage with some difficult news. Hannah Smith, the sister of one of the pilgrims, Thayer Smith, was tragically killed in a car accident in Vermont prior to our departure. Thayer was greeted by his parents at JFK with the sad news. Those of our group who were still in the airport were told when we offered a prayer – as I know you will – for Thayer and his family at this difficult time.

This is not the way any of us could foresee a proper ending to a wonderful time in Lourdes. Why, after such good, does such an awful thing happen?

It would be both foolish and arrogant to answer (or even try) the question of ‘why’. We may live in the Information Age but this query comes up with a cold “no results found.” We have just spent a good deal of time in the Lourdes ministering to crowds who, by every right we imagine, can ask that question. When it happens in a more singular and familiar situation, the question is even more pointed. Even so, a satisfactory response is as equally lacking.

From my own experience, all I can say is that there is nothing wrong with asking why such a thing happened. And while that question has never been answered, asking it is a primal act of faith. We pose the question to Someone. The question presupposes a Responsibility. Even anger is the creedal act. But the silence of absent satisfaction is darkness. Sure, there are easy boilerplate responses but these are sparks trying to conquer a black hole. And nothing seems to escape from that cosmic terror in the pit of our stomach. Reason is vacated; religion is stripped; faith is unrecognizable.

This is the darkness of Calvary. It is that disconsolate feeling of being abandoned by everything we hold good. It is suffering in its purest form, undiluted by platitudes or explained away by sheer reason. The only word from the Cross is the Cross itself.

On the dome of the Holy Rosary Basilica in Lourdes, there is a magnificent gilded cross illuminated during the day by the sun and by night, flooded with spotlights. The Cross is, as it always has been and will be, the center of the entire Christian life. Everything else is in reference to it. The ‘Alleluia’ of Easter or the expectation of Advent has meaning only in reference to the cross. Some modern forms of religion tried to downplay the centrality. They try to be more "positive."

Then something like this happens.

A few days ago, I wrote that any pilgrimage does not end at a shrine but at our front door. I see now how true this has become. Our pilgrimage to Lourdes has ended in the sad silence that brought us there in the first place. And even as the Way of the Cross has become more vibrant in these few hours, the faith we have been given and have experienced across the ocean is hinting at something else.

Our Lady did not promise St. Bernadette that she would be happy in this life but would be in the life to come. In the simplicity of her faith, she truly believed this. Few of us have a faith as strong, but we do have hope. The reason we went to Lourdes, why millions go there every year, why thousands dedicate their vacations to volunteering there, why the Order of Malta is so committed to binging people there is the same hope.

Pilgrimages begin with prayer and end with prayer. In the shadow of this sad event, we pray in hope:

Almighty God, Your son Jesus Christ entered our darkness when He was raised on the cross and from that hilltop, humanity sees the Light of the world. In our darkness, may we see that light of hope. Through the intercession of Mary Immaculate, our Lady of Lourdes, who stood in that darkness at the foot of the Cross, may we have the grace of standing in faith. May we know the consolation of hope even when all seems lost. Refresh our tired souls with a miraculous spring of Grace. Help us to wash our hurts and sorrows in that spring that we may see further than the moment.

And may we know, in ways words can never express, You will always stand by us regardless of everything falling away.

Stand with, and give us the strength to stand by, those who know the Cross. Remember at this time the Smith family and those whose lives are touched by Hannah's death. Bind us more closely in the communion of the saints to support one another and banish the fear that we are alone.

Into Your hands we commend our spirit. We commend to You our pilgrimage to Lourdes and through life. We ask ou to strengthen what Your hands have worked in us and to forgive whatever weaknesses we have allowed to distract us. We offer ou ourselves and each other through the hands of our Lady of Lourdes and trust in Your great mercy. Amen.

Exeunt Omnes
Photos are HERE

We're off to the airport. See you later today. Wrap-up entry to follow at some undetermined point soon.

Fin
Photos are HERE

Well, it's over. The Baths are being manned by others; the transports at the train have new smiles. After a last morning at the Baths, we gathered for the group shot and had lunch. I made a few more significant gestures to aid the world economic crisis and took a nap. We had a torrential downpour after I did what St. Bernadette was told to do: I washed at the spring (i.e., the spigots) and a little wet, passed through the Grotto. As I headed over to the Blessing of the Sick, the heavens opened. I got back to the hotel through the drenched but free of meandering crowds oblivious of their surroundings. I was soaked, but then again, you don’t come to Lourdes to stay dry!

After Mass of the Transfiguration and a dinner with excellent French fries (yes, that’s what they are called even here!), we headed in the drizzle to the Rosary Procession. This time it would be different. We were not singing or serving; we were to be pilgrims. With two scooters forming an honor guard, we escorted the banner of Malta Youth. I really was impressed how reverent they were.

Back at the D’Espagne, we revealed our prayer partners and had a finally reflection.

With the rain becoming harder, we discerned the Lord’s call to ice cream one last time and followed the promptings of the Spirit with willing feet.

And now, gentle reader, I am in my room debating an all-nighter as I pack my life up. I can’t do justice to you or this blog by reflecting on what these lat two weeks have been like in sum. Suffice it to say that no pilgrimage ends at a shrine.

It ends – if you can even say that – at your front door.

Contrasts
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It was hot today; it is cool tonight. It was sunny all day; it is raining right now. Lourdes is a mountain town. Mountain towns are places of contrast. They demand awareness and obedience. If you've ever been caught by a snowstorm in the Catskills or downpour in Berkshires you know what I'm talking about.

The life of these pilgrims in Lourdes is no different. They served in the Baths this morning and afternoon. I was trying to keep out of the heat and shopping seemed to do the trick.

After Mass, a work of thanks and encouragement from Tony McLaughlin (Knight of Malta without whom the Baths would not run smoothly) and dinner, we did the Stations of the Cross at the edge of the Sanctuary. As we walked that path of pain, the Candlelight Procession began in the distance. We headed to the Grotto when we finished and tried to make the Glorious Mysteries the conclusion. No dice. The Grotto is perpetually crowded and silence completely absent. Instead, we passed through and placed our petitions there.

A place of prayer filled with noise – another contrast.

We headed up the zigzag path and wound up on top the Rosary Basilica. As the final prayers were sung (and a proclamation of tomorrow’s Feast of the Transfiguration), the main tower was lit and the bells pealed. Our little lambs were making shadow puppets in the glory of that moment. Another contrast.

We came back for reflection followed by (according to God’s will) ice cream and crepes.

Yes, a day of contrasts for a group that seems to ‘get’ what Lourdes is about.

Not a bad day at all.

Zzz...
Photos are HERE

After six pilgrimages, I have discovered that there is always one day when everyone seems to slow down just a bit. With our group, it may have something to do with getting up at 6:30 AM. The day was hot and I knew by 10:00 AM that this was going to be a slow day for me. From bitter experience, when the body says ‘no,’ I quickly agree. At lunch, the guys from the Western Association were saying their goodbyes and heading off to Paris. They were very decent group and will be missed.

Because of the heat, I decided not to go to the Cenaculo which is a substance abuse treatment center emphasizing the spirituality of recovery. The kids had nothing but good to say about it. I assumed was also very nice for them to get out of town for a while. And having arrived early, most of them took the opportunity for a nap. Watching them get off the elevator was proof of the resurrection of the dead. After mass and dinner we watched the movie Bernadette. At the end, we had another trivia quiz and they once again proved how attentive they were to this historically accurate and reasonably humorous account of what happened here 151 years ago.

They were exhausted. Some took cat naps during the movie. Tiredness is something we do not hide. It is nature's way of telling us to slow down a bit and to rest. Teenagers are famous for their ability to sleep for superhuman amounts of time. And while they do not get that opportunity here, their bodies are quite clear when they need it. Adults also have the internal warning system and we all know the negative health effects when that alert is given. And even more, a neurological disease really makes it clear what you need to do.

But somewhere along the line in this kind of effort to live some sort of secular virtue, we've convinced ourselves that tiredness equals weakness. I've heard it time and time again that people are too busy to do this or that. When it comes to matters spiritual, they are absolutely correct; they are too busy. It is not without reason, then, that we can see the third commandment (Sabbath rest) has a wise command to respect the order of nature as God intended.

If we are too busy to stop, we will be stopped. This is not divine vengeance but natural consequences.

And with that delightful spiritual bouquet, I'm off to bed myself.