by Father Renato Zilio
Tall, solemn, the gigantic mass of the Church “Notre Dame de Lourdes” dominates with its 30 meters of height the Rond-point de l’Europe, a strategic crossroads of Casablanca. The intense and chaotic traffic of the metropolis contrasts with the majestic presence of the church, almost a warning: in the face of the continuous flow of life, there are realities that remain fixed points. Built in 1955, during the French protectorate, it was initially the church of the European community.
The interior, austere and very high, is embellished with long horizontal stained glass windows on both sides, where red and blue emerge forcefully, reminiscent of medieval cathedrals. These stained glass windows, the work of the great master glassmaker of Chartres, Gabriel Loire, tell the extraordinary adventure of Mary, woman of the people and Mother of God. With its 800 m² of stained glass, the work still amazes today: every day, the sun’s rays transform the stained glass windows into plays of light, almost as if to celebrate the Magnificat: “The Almighty has done wonders in me!”.
Visiting a cathedral, as any architect suggests, is an experience to be lived when it is full of life, when it fills with the faithful. At Sunday Mass, the church fills with about 600 migrants, mostly sub-Saharan Africans, accompanied by a few Europeans. The celebration is a real party: between songs, clapping, colorful turbans and prayers, the polyphonic choir of university students resonates powerfully. The procession of offerings takes place with joy, carrying pineapples, bananas, milk, wine and exotic fruit in a rhythm that mixes languages and traditions: French, Latin, Swahili, Yoruba. The “Our Father” is often sung with Arabic melismas, a sign of a Church that, in the land of Islam, wants to be a “sacrament of encounter”.
The goal is not to expand his tent, but to spread the values of the Kingdom of God, living in brotherhood and dignity with Muslims. Thus, almost two hours of celebration pass surprisingly quickly.
Outside, in front of the church, stands a life-size Lourdes grotto, which opens to the gaze and prayer like a sail in the wind. Casablanca, in fact, is located on the edge of the ocean. From the top of a cavity in the grotto, the milky-white statue of Mary watches motionless, recalling the “Stabat Mater”. After mass, a silent and absorbed crowd gathers at the feet of the Madonna, creating a meditative and mystical atmosphere. Here, everyone places their last invocation before losing themselves in the chaos of the metropolis.
The suffering and anguish of migrants find a sacred space in this place. Some caress the rock, others insert small prayer cards into the cracks, still others kneel absorbed. It is like being at the Wailing Wall. “African culture needs to touch, to feel closeness,” confides the elderly Father Jean-Louis. “Even when I confess, they sit next to me, almost to touch me and concretely feel the grace of God.” At the grotto, among a thousand lit candles, one understands how only a mother can gather the suffering of the soul and offer it, with mercy, to the Most High.
Finally, a voice rises: “Ave Maria”.