“Of the millions of the sick who go to Lourdes, not one in thousand is ‘cured,’” observed the late British theologian Adrian Hastings. Probably he was setting the odds better than they actually are.

If you travel to a holy place looking for a miracle, your chances of finding one are indeed no better than if you play the lottery hoping to win a million dollars. But people of faith know this, by and large, and yet still go to sites like Lourdes in southern France because they are sources of spiritual blessings.

When I visited Lourdes, four years ago, I was prepared to feel put off by what I imagined as the craze for cures. The sight of all those thousands of people in wheelchairs and moving beds would show me religion, I feared, manipulating the sick by making them expect to be cured of their illnesses and disabilities.

What I found instead was an atmosphere of impressive spirituality. Yes, there were merchants galore in the city squares selling religious trinkets of all kinds. Some of these were in bad taste, tawdry objects connected with the shrines and the famous grotto where the sick bathe.

But I soon discovered the spirit behind the sick and disabled who come, in some instances, thousands of miles to take part in ceremonies at Lourdes. They were clearly there to pray; at least most of them were. Along with their caretakers and others like me who were in good health, they formed part of a long and awesome procession that moved by candlelight around the square outside the great basilica.

As we slowly moved along, we repeated hymns in honor of the Blessed Virgin and Jesus. I felt buoyed up by the spirit of people there, all ages and conditions of life, speaking many of the languages of the world. I was deeply impressed by the work of the caretakers who ministered with great solicitude to those dependent on them.

Gradually I became aware of the purpose motivating the people sick in body (and, perhaps, mind) who were there. For the most part, I came to realize, they had not come for a miracle to be worked on them nor did they expect to be cured of their maladies. Rather, they had traveled there for healing, for the grace of their souls becoming whole.

This was undoubtedly why theologian Adrian Hastings had put the word “cure” in quotation marks. He must have wanted to allow for the use of the word to describe the spiritual healing that many people bring home from a pilgrimage to Lourdes or other places sanctified by faith.

In her 1999 book “Lourdes: Body and Spirit in the Secular Age,” Oxford scholar Ruth Harris presents herself as an unbeliever who was deeply touched by her experience of this holy place. She sees this site of pilgrimage as one where genuine healing has taken place during the past century and a half and where an attempt has been made to overcome the mind/body divide that has marked modern society.

I came away from my visit with a sense of spiritual renewal. I felt buoyed up by the faith of the thousands with whom I mingled. That was a beautiful evening on which, accompanied by family members, I walked, sang, prayed and sensed the presence of spirit among us.

That is “miracle” enough for me, though I still sympathize with those who continue to endure agonizing suffering of body and mind. To me the spirit of God is present in the devotion of those open to the change of soul that takes place within them. In accepting the inner anointing that comes with this kind of pilgrimage, they become healed even if they never find a cure for their ailments.

The fine American writer Flannery O’Connor, who suffered from lupus, went to Lourdes in the spring of 1958. For reasons not entirely clear, she was afraid of being cured of her disease, says the editor of her letters. But, if she had not taken the bath, she feared being “plagued in the future by a bad conscience.”

Ultimately, the odds quoted at the beginning are irrelevant to the spiritual meaning of the holy site. More to the point, the odds of spiritual healing seem remarkably favorable. For people who come open to God’s healing touch, those odds are excellent. Most likely, they will return home fortified in spirit and with renewed hope.

Richard Griffin