Iowa, Pt. 2: The Grotto of the Redemption

Cousin Margot also took us to visit a highly surprising and amazing West Bend tourist attraction, The Grotto of the Redemption. I took lots of pictures, because it is almost not explainable--but imagine a large multi-level "garden" with walkways and rooms all filled with beautiful statues depicting the life and ministry and death of Jesus Christ, including the 14 Stations of the Cross, all encrusted--every last inch, save the statuary--with semi-precious rocks, minerals, crystals, geodes, petrified wood, I even saw a stalagmite. I heard that faithful Catholics (who knows, maybe even more than a few Protestants) from all over the world sent stones and decorative bits for the Grotto. Work on the Grotto was begun in 1912, and different sections of it were completed in different later decades.

A corridor of pillars, I think representing the Stations of the Cross (I was chasing children at this point and could not linger past taking the photo)

The other side of the same corridor, showing the detail of the pillars.

Adam, being cast out of Eden

Eve also being cast out of Eden, (Adam is to the right, off camera) by the Angel of The Lord. The statuary was really breathtaking--my photos cannot do them justice. You gotta love the loudspeaker thrust into this poignant tableau. And is it coincidence or mastery of the subliminal that makes it appear as if both Eve and Adam are about to be devoured by demonic rock mouths?


The most beautiful statue in the Grotto, of Jesus' body being laid in the tomb.


Still, this was my favorite statue.

M and G amidst the crustations.



An unexpected room: the home life of the Holy family. Mary is shown with a mortar and pestle. This is by far the most unexalted and human portrayal of Mary I have ever seen in a Catholic setting, and I was touched in a new way by thinking of her cooking in a tiny, crude kitchen. Inspired, actually.

Jesus, the homeschooler


Another very human depiction of Joseph. I love how each of the Holy Family is holding a symbol of their daily work. Such a small but purposeful detail gives lends so much meaning to the statues.

Set here and there amidst the profusion of rock were carefully set "bouquets." I don't know what else to call them--some were rosettes, like the one pictured above, some surprising and lovely groupings like the one below. They were all gorgeous, and helped give sections of the walls focus and drama. And helped the viewer re-appreciate the individual God-made materials of which the Grotto was formed--and the individual hands that placed them with such love and artistry.






Artful arrangement of beautiful sections of petrified wood.

As we walked through grotto after grotto and the first thrill of wonderment wore off, I started to think about all the money and labor involved, which seemed a waste--did God desire them to do this with so much of His resources?--and my eyes and brain were so oversaturated with texture and color that all the beauty of the rocks became tiresome and even gaudy. The predominant color of the Grotto, besides brown, is, surprisingly, pink. Borderline cheesy meditative instrumental music (I think they were going for angels and awe--I seem to recall lots of harps playing) follows you everywhere from loudspeakers that are wincingly hard to hide. My arms were going to break from carrying E around (steps and strollers not mixing--the Grotto was clearly built before accessibility laws came into effect) and I was letting myself entertain thoughts about how stereotypically Americans, and Christians in general, and Evangelicals in particular, have such monumentally bad taste and definitely run too easily into tacky excess. How I am uncomfortable with non-Christians seeing something like the Grotto and thinking it represents the values and taste of all Christians, and specifically me. (C'mon, esp. those of us who go to Vintage Faith church clearly have "hip" awareness and are probably much more comfortable with non-believers seeing us there than linking us with, say, a small congregation of overweight, Wal-Mart apparelled, bland-faced middle-Americans. I've been to churches like that in Indiana, and while I trust God was at work in them, I had no desire to visit twice.)

I am being vulnerable here, because clearly the "problem" with the Indiana churches or the Grotto lay not with them, but with me. I am judgmental at times in most unattractive ways, but luckily God does not let me get away with such thoughts unchecked. For as we finished our wanderings in the Grotto, we ended up in front of a sign that read:

And I was completely, immediately, humbled. The sign, installed by the modern Catholics who maintain the Grotto and worship in the church next door, modestly but firmly takes the focus off the amazingness of the Grotto and puts it back on God. I repented of my negative thoughts and judging the hearts and motives of the people who built the Grotto, who operate it, who visit it. Would that when God looks into my heart, he sees a space for Himself as beautiful as the Grotto. As carefully fashioned with years and years of dedicated, joyful labor. So abundant with the tangible manifestations of God's handiwork, that all who come in contact with it are dazzled with beauty and filled with awe.

Further chastisement came when I started this blog entry the other day and visited the Grotto's website to read its history. I am clearly not the only visitor of the Grotto who has wondered at the cost of its making, for the website addressed this issue with a response that, again, places the whole human endeavor within the context of hearts in tune to God:
"No accounting was made either of the many man-hours of labor involved in building the Grotto or the money expended in gathering the stones and shaping them into a harmonious unit. This is perhaps because Father Dobberstein wanted the cost to be known to God alone."*

Looking back over this entry, I can see how much I overused the words "surprising," "beautiful," "unexpected"--but this is the truth of the whole Grotto of the Redemption experience. Moving through it, and processing all the different thoughts and feelings that came to me, left me a different person than when I went in. So while on one hand it was a gaudy pile of rocks, on the other hand, it was a truly spiritual experience. Thank you for joining me on the tour of both!



*http://www.westbendgrotto.com/