True and False Worship at Montserrat

Published in Christian Renewal magazine, 1 August 2007

One of Spain’s most beautiful areas, a national park called the Parc Natural de la Muntanya de Montserrat, lies in the heart of Catalonia just over 50 km northwest of Barcelona. The park’s centerpiece is its jagged mountain, Montserrat, a rocky peak that stands over four thousand feet above sea level and towers above everything else in the area.

On sunny days, which are common in this part of Spain, one can easily see twenty miles or more in any direction from the upper parts of Montserrat. The small towns in the valleys below seem sleepy and insignificant from that height. The tiny-looking cars that move back and forth along the surrounding roads are barely noticeable except when they momentarily reflect the sun, a bright spark that slowly slides along the road for a few moments before fading away.

The most impressive view from the mountaintop is toward the snow-capped Pyrenees mountains, which dwarf Montserrat, looming in the distance. They somehow manage to appear both serene and ominous at the same time.

Trails wind around the mountain from the very top all the way to the valley below. Visitors can take a cable car and funicular railway almost to the very top of the mountain and hike the rest of the way up to its peak. The foliage encountered along the way is of an interesting variety. Small pine forests alternate with desert-like fauna, and such wildflowers as primroses, buttercups, and thistles abound despite the somewhat arid conditions and sandy soil.

Perched high on Montserrat is an ancient Benedictine abbey, Santa María de Montserrat. While still an active abbey – complete with living quarters, a study center, and a range of other facilities – it has been significantly expanded and adapted to accommodate tourists. There are several cafés, small shops, and vantage points, and even a rather impressive art gallery.

Thousands of people visit Montserrat each year. Many undoubtedly do so because of the mountain’s natural beauty, but by far the biggest draw is a statue of Mary that is, I was told, the second-most important article of the Roman Catholic faith in Spain. Pilgrims arrive at Montserrat by the busload, waiting in line for sometimes an hour or more to see “la Moreneta,” or “the little dark-skinned one” – the statue’s nickname because of its dark color. Some pilgrims believe that it was carved in Jerusalem in the days of the church fathers, but experts in ecclesiastical art have dated it to the twelfth century.

I entered main sanctuary of the church in which the statue is housed and watched from below as the pilgrims visited with the statue. They knelt before it, kissed it, prayed to it, or had their pictures taken with it before moving on. Stewards kept the line moving, so no one spent more than twenty or thirty seconds before the statue.

I left the church and resumed exploring the mountain. As I surveyed the landscape, I was awestruck. It was one of the most beautiful places I had ever been, and yet most of the people who visited spend most of their time in line at the church, waiting to see the statue of Mary. The contrast was striking: they come as pilgrims performing an act of worship, but why bother with a wooden statue when the magnificent, majestic handiwork of God stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction?

It would be too easy to make this simply about Roman Catholicism, I thought as I hiked further along the mountainside. I wonder what idols I kiss instead of the true, infinitely richer beauty of the authentic handiwork of God? I wonder in what ways I ignore the works of God that are daily right before my eyes? My cup truly runneth over, but I am so blind and calloused that I am probably never aware of the vast majority of the blessings God gives me. What a generous and loving God he is to bless me so richly even though I hardly take notice! I wonder what little things I would begin to see if I would pay better attention?

Those were my thoughts as I walked at Montserrat. I wish I could say they have been more constantly to mind since that day; I pray that they are my meditation all my life. Although I hate the thought of it, I will certainly fail to appreciate God’s goodness countless times in the coming years. Nonetheless, this one thing is even more certain: surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever. Praise God that his love is not contingent on what we have earned or deserve.