900 year anniversary of the spiritual Knights of Malta
Have you ever wanted to visit Lourdes? I have. Would you know what to expect? I didn't. Would you cry in Lourdes? I did!
At first sight, Lourdes is not the spiritually happy place one might expect. Spiritual, yes. Happy, certainly not. There are too many sick and dying. It's a shock to one's system. No matter how much we may be used to helping sick and dying people in England, we cannot be prepared for the shock. I met doctors and nurses who travel to help at Lourdes every year - and cry every year.
Ten days beforehand, I had been invited to help 'The Sovereign Military Hospitaller Order of St. John of Jerusalem, of Rhodes, and Malta' (often known as 'The Knights of Malta') on their annual pilgrimage with about 40 'Les Malades' (the Lourdes word for 'the sick'). The Knights originated in 1099 when crusaders captured Jerusalem and founded a hospice for pilgrims dedicated to St John the Baptist. The Order is 'Sovereign' because it owned castles; 'Military' because it had to fight the Turks; and Hospitaller because of vows to care for the poor and the sick. Nowadays, these aims continue, except that 'Military' is replaced with 'Catholicism'. The Order now runs hospitals, leprosariums, laboratories and dispensaries all over the world.
My volunteer's uniform was black battle-dress, black beret, and 'Great Britain' and 'Maltese Cross' badges. Ladies wore white and red nurses outfits, with headdresses bearing the Order's badge. Knights dressed for processions in flowing black cloaks decorated with large white crosses. The colourful pageantry is a beautiful sight.
It was on the plane that I first felt the sadness of the trip. Served with French pate and croissant, the man beside me, Peter (not his real name) asked me to cut up his food - and move his leg to a better position. He had M.S. in an advanced stage. In Lourdes I was to dress him, push him up hills to the shops, and hold him up while two nurses wiped his bottom.
The way Lourdes is organised surprised me. No permanent staff is employed except cooks: hospitals are rented to incoming groups on a price per patient basis. Groups of pilgrims bring their own doctors, nurses, cleaners, waitresses, etc., and all medication or special foods. Volunteers are expected to 'muck in'. Duties are on one or two shifts from 6.30am to 10pm, and could involve anything from scrubbing floors to washing hair; from repairing wheelchairs to helping 'Les Malades' visit holy shrines.
So why should this be so sad? The answer lies in the sheer numbers of Les Malades. There are certainly hundreds and hundreds, maybe thousands and thousands. Everywhere people are being pushed in wheelchairs, or pulled in three-wheeled rick-shaw-like vehicles. Those who must stay in bed are pushed on special beds-on-wheels.
I met experienced healers there. They said, 'We are not allowed to practise healing in Lourdes. Just give out healing thoughts.' I did to the first group of about ten. And the second group of about two hundred. And the third group of about thirty.
By the evening, it felt like shell-shock. I remember standing on a bridge overlooking the bubbling river that runs through Lourdes town centre. Snow-capped Pyrenean mountains glistened in the distance. Another group of about twenty wheelchair-bound invalids passed by, singing hymns. It felt an impossible task to help so many sick and dying. I remember thinking, 'Jesus was one of the best healers who ever lived. What would he have done?'
And I wept...
My tears flowed down the river, helplessly. During the first few days, despite helpers having high levels of Love and Acceptance, many helpers cried.
Few places on Earth could be more emotionally negative. Yet, at the same time, Lourdes was inspirationally positive.
Inspiration came from Les Malades themselves. They were so incredibly cheerful, brave, and kind! Their characters and personalities were treasures to find! Despite pains and ills, they never complained!
Within days, helpers' tear-filled eyes changed to looks of admiration. It was a humbling, learning experience. We were there to help them; they ended up helping us!
Within all this is the holy nature of Lourdes. The Grotto where, in 1858, St Bernadette saw the Virgin Mary on eighteen detailed occasions; the holy water baths, where all can bathe privately in prayer; The Way of the Cross, built specially for invalids; the underground churches built close to Les Malades' hospitals; and the processions chanting liturgical prayers to the Virgin Mary.
The candle-light procession is spectacular. Thousands collect by the Grotto, in wheelchairs or beds, and slowly move with their candles, four abreast, to the Basilica singing the 'Ave Maria' of Lourdes. It's a powerful image. It bonds participants together. It feels like real Godly love for Mankind.
If anyone would like to feel the Lourdes experience, the 'Knights of Malta' may need you! So if you'd like to help, or if you are, or know of any, 'Les Malades', please Email me at [email protected]
Who knows, the next miracle at Lourdes could be you!
At first sight, Lourdes is not the spiritually happy place one might expect. Spiritual, yes. Happy, certainly not. There are too many sick and dying. It's a shock to one's system. No matter how much we may be used to helping sick and dying people in England, we cannot be prepared for the shock. I met doctors and nurses who travel to help at Lourdes every year - and cry every year.
Ten days beforehand, I had been invited to help 'The Sovereign Military Hospitaller Order of St. John of Jerusalem, of Rhodes, and Malta' (often known as 'The Knights of Malta') on their annual pilgrimage with about 40 'Les Malades' (the Lourdes word for 'the sick'). The Knights originated in 1099 when crusaders captured Jerusalem and founded a hospice for pilgrims dedicated to St John the Baptist. The Order is 'Sovereign' because it owned castles; 'Military' because it had to fight the Turks; and Hospitaller because of vows to care for the poor and the sick. Nowadays, these aims continue, except that 'Military' is replaced with 'Catholicism'. The Order now runs hospitals, leprosariums, laboratories and dispensaries all over the world.
My volunteer's uniform was black battle-dress, black beret, and 'Great Britain' and 'Maltese Cross' badges. Ladies wore white and red nurses outfits, with headdresses bearing the Order's badge. Knights dressed for processions in flowing black cloaks decorated with large white crosses. The colourful pageantry is a beautiful sight.
It was on the plane that I first felt the sadness of the trip. Served with French pate and croissant, the man beside me, Peter (not his real name) asked me to cut up his food - and move his leg to a better position. He had M.S. in an advanced stage. In Lourdes I was to dress him, push him up hills to the shops, and hold him up while two nurses wiped his bottom.
The way Lourdes is organised surprised me. No permanent staff is employed except cooks: hospitals are rented to incoming groups on a price per patient basis. Groups of pilgrims bring their own doctors, nurses, cleaners, waitresses, etc., and all medication or special foods. Volunteers are expected to 'muck in'. Duties are on one or two shifts from 6.30am to 10pm, and could involve anything from scrubbing floors to washing hair; from repairing wheelchairs to helping 'Les Malades' visit holy shrines.
So why should this be so sad? The answer lies in the sheer numbers of Les Malades. There are certainly hundreds and hundreds, maybe thousands and thousands. Everywhere people are being pushed in wheelchairs, or pulled in three-wheeled rick-shaw-like vehicles. Those who must stay in bed are pushed on special beds-on-wheels.
I met experienced healers there. They said, 'We are not allowed to practise healing in Lourdes. Just give out healing thoughts.' I did to the first group of about ten. And the second group of about two hundred. And the third group of about thirty.
By the evening, it felt like shell-shock. I remember standing on a bridge overlooking the bubbling river that runs through Lourdes town centre. Snow-capped Pyrenean mountains glistened in the distance. Another group of about twenty wheelchair-bound invalids passed by, singing hymns. It felt an impossible task to help so many sick and dying. I remember thinking, 'Jesus was one of the best healers who ever lived. What would he have done?'
And I wept...
My tears flowed down the river, helplessly. During the first few days, despite helpers having high levels of Love and Acceptance, many helpers cried.
Few places on Earth could be more emotionally negative. Yet, at the same time, Lourdes was inspirationally positive.
Inspiration came from Les Malades themselves. They were so incredibly cheerful, brave, and kind! Their characters and personalities were treasures to find! Despite pains and ills, they never complained!
Within days, helpers' tear-filled eyes changed to looks of admiration. It was a humbling, learning experience. We were there to help them; they ended up helping us!
Within all this is the holy nature of Lourdes. The Grotto where, in 1858, St Bernadette saw the Virgin Mary on eighteen detailed occasions; the holy water baths, where all can bathe privately in prayer; The Way of the Cross, built specially for invalids; the underground churches built close to Les Malades' hospitals; and the processions chanting liturgical prayers to the Virgin Mary.
The candle-light procession is spectacular. Thousands collect by the Grotto, in wheelchairs or beds, and slowly move with their candles, four abreast, to the Basilica singing the 'Ave Maria' of Lourdes. It's a powerful image. It bonds participants together. It feels like real Godly love for Mankind.
If anyone would like to feel the Lourdes experience, the 'Knights of Malta' may need you! So if you'd like to help, or if you are, or know of any, 'Les Malades', please Email me at [email protected]
Who knows, the next miracle at Lourdes could be you!
