Two precious days for Our Lady of Guadalupe
December is such a holy month in so many faith traditions that even those who aren’t particularly religious join in the spirit.
I love that “nones,” those unaffiliated with a religious tradition, celebrate them, and that even atheists participate in holidays so obviously tied to belief in the divine.
The dates on the calendar may also focus on gift-giving and family gatherings.
But for me, it’s also about a story — and love. Today is one of those days.
It marks a beloved moment for Catholics, who recognize Dec. 9 as the feast day of St. Juan Diego, an indigenous Mesoamerican who reported several miraculous apparitions in 1531.
Scholars may debate his existence, but the faithful believe he saw Our Lady of Guadalupe on a hill called Tepeyac in the Aztec capital of Tenochtitlán, presentday Mexico City.
Three days later, on Dec. 12, Catholics celebrate her feast day.
She’s adored worldwide, and her influence can’t be overstated in the Americas.
The Marian figure is known by many names — Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, La Virgen de Guadalupe, Empress of the Americas, Our Lady of Tepeyac and la morenita.
She’s the dark-skinned virgin mother who stands in front of the sun, atop a crescent moon, wearing a star-covered robe, the band around her stomach revealing she’s about to give birth.
The story of her apparitions has been told as one of salvation and hope for indigenous peoples and a suffering world.
Juan Diego’s world was suffering. The Spanish conquest was horrifically violent.
Those who weren’t killed saw their sacred deities attacked. They faced deadly diseases brought by the Spanish and for which they had no immunity.
The basilica to Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City was built atop the ruins of a temple for a revered goddess, Tonantzin.
For some, Guadalupe and Tonantzin are one and the same, referred to interchangeably.
This Saturday, for example, the Esperanza Peace & Justice Center will live-stream an event called Festejo Tonantzin, described as a “celebration of our Nana Tonantzin/ Virgen de Guadalupe.”
In 2031, just 10 years from now, devotees will celebrate the 500th anniversary of an event credited with the evangelization of millions in the Americas and beyond.
Her image continues to surface during trying times and critical moments: during Mexico’s independence movement from Spain; the Mexican Revolution; and the disappearances and deaths of students, activists and others.
In the United States, Our Lady of Guadalupe banners have appeared in marches and protests for farm workers, immigrant lives and Black Lives Matter, as well as during the Chicano civil rights movement.
The late Enedina Vasquez, an
influential San Antonio artist and religious leader, often spoke about Guadalupe’s accessibility and ability to travel. Originally Catholic, Vasquez tried the Episcopal Church before being ordained a Lutheran minister.
“I couldn’t leave her behind,” she told me in 2011. “She is my emblem. She is my flag. She is my clenched fist.”
The Rev. David Garcia, a retired Catholic priest and author of the recently published book, “Pandemic Preaching: The Pulpit in a Year Like No Other,” calls Guadalupe “omnipresent” in the lives of the Mexican American parishioners he served.
He recalled that after the restoration of San Fernando Cathedral, the small area behind
the altar — where a painting of Guadalupe is framed against a large-scale golden retablo — became the church’s biggest draw.
He also noted those who stopped in front of Guadalupe before or after walking across the street to the Bexar County Courthouse on the best or worst days of their lives.
Rosa Elia Rosas, who led the Guadalupanas at the cathedral for two years, likes to recount a story of a boy who became an early devotee.
Along with other children in catechism classes at the cathedral, he watched a skit about Guadalupe and had questions afterward.
Rosas doesn’t remember saying it, but he remembered
that she had said they, too, could bring their prayers to her.
After the holiday break, the boy searched her out.
“Remember you told me to pray to that lady?” Rosas recalls the boy saying. “I prayed for my Daddy to come home.”
His prayer was answered, he said. His father had been in prison and came home.
Rosas choked up in remembering his faith.
His is just one story. There are millions upon millions.
Rosas taught him something else — to go back before the beautiful lady and thank her. They went together. “She’s still hearing us,” Rosas said.