Lecture on Our Lady of Guadalupe from the 2008 Fatima Conference
by Rev. Fr. Dominic Radecki, CMRI
In the very heart of Mexico, in the center of the two great American continents, there is enshrined one of the most beloved, most treasured, most venerated objects in all of Christendom: a small cloak made of cactus fabric so thin one can see through it. For over 450 years, this little cloak, or tilma as it is properly called, has attracted the attention of millions of pilgrims from all over the world, many of them walking the last mile on their knees, singing and praying aloud for the privilege of kneeling before it.
Replicas of this tilma and the Image upon it adorn our churches; it brightens the homes of the humble poor, and sobers the mansions of the very rich. If you live in southern California, as I do, you cannot go anywhere without seeing it in shops, on car bumpers and window stickers, on tee shirts and sweatshirts, on billboards, tattooed on arms and carved on trees along the road. Perhaps no other religious object, after the Crucifix itself, draws so much veneration.
There is something to be gained in the telling and retelling of this account, like the beautiful Christmas story we never tire of, and the wonderful tales of the noble deeds of the saints, which are told and retold, and handed down from one generation to another. This story begins over four hundred years ago.
The place is a barren hill in central Mexico, not too far from the large metropolis now known as Mexico City. But perhaps we are ahead of ourselves. The story really begins with the arrival of Captain Hernando Cortes and the Spanish fleets in the southern part of the New World in 1519.
What Did Cortes Discover About Aztec Civilization?
As Cortes and his soldiers penetrated the vast, green plains and sandy deserts of Mexico, they found some ten million inhabitants comprising different tribes of Indians living there. The controlling rulers were the Aztecs, who had incorporated the various tribes into a vast empire under the authority of a single man. Each Aztec province was individually ruled by a governor who levied taxes, directed the interchange of trade, and controlled the army.
Agriculture was the leading industry and corn the chief crop. Reading and writing were limited to a pictograph system similar to the ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics. As far as their architectural skills, their building, trade and agricultural achievements, the Aztecs seemed rather advanced as ancient civilizations go. But all of it was blighted by their religion, by strange superstitious beliefs which sank into some of the worst excesses one can imagine.
I am your Merciful Mother, the Mother of all who live united in this land, the Mother of all mankind, of all those who love me, of those who cry to me, of those who have confidence in me.
Why Did the Aztecs Practice Human Sacrifice?
The religious rituals of the Aztecs sprang from their compulsive fears; they felt they must gratify and appease the various forces of nature which were beneficial to them, while at the same time they endeavored to repel the forces which were harmful. Most of the elements and various natural forces, such as the sun, rain, wind, fire, and so on, were worshipped as gods and goddesses; these idols adorned their massive pyramid stone temples.
Inherent in our human nature is the duty of offering sacrifice to God, and so we find that sacrifice is a primary element in the ancient religious rites of the most primitive peoples. The Aztecs were no different, but few offered sacrifice as they did. The Aztecs felt themselves under an obligation to offer to their demon gods an almost continual stream of human blood, either in atonement for some calamity, such as pestilence or earthquake, or to forestall some similar misfortune.
For fear that the morning sun might not appear they felt driven to supply the sun god with regular nourishment of human blood. The poor victims were usually slaves or prisoners of war, and the method of immolation was frightful in the extreme.
The killings occasionally reached thousands in a single day. Tearing out the heart of living victims was relatively merciful compared to some of the other means of appeasement. Even little children were not spared. An early Mexican historian estimates that one child out of every five in Mexico was offered in sacrifice to the false gods.
It is easy to see how the missionaries, who followed close upon the heels of the Spanish conquistadors, regarded this horrible creed as an indication of satanic infestation. There is nothing in all of history so horrible which can begin to compare with this saga of slaughter, except for the 50,000,000 abortions which have been performed in this country since 1973, amounting to 4,000 killings every day, and all to appease the mother goddesses of the New Age.
It was these people of the Aztec empire that the Franciscan missionaries came to convert. The missionaries had to try to make them understand the love of a God made Man, Who shed HIS blood as the Victim for all people in one great Sacrifice of atonement. They taught the Indians that there is only one true God Who created the world and made everyone in His own image and likeness.
What Prepares Montezuma for the Arrival of Cortes and Conversion by the Franciscan Friars?
Among the first converts was the sister of the Emperor Montezuma II, Princess Papantzin, who ruled over the principality of Tlatelolco. Years before the coming of the Spaniards to Mexico, she had a strange dream while in a coma and close to death. In it she saw herself standing on the shore of a great sea, guided there by what she described as an angel. As she watched, several galleons of enormous size appeared over the horizon and drew near. Black crosses adorned the sails of these ships, just like the cross on the forehead of her spirit guide. The angel told her that these ships were bringing men who were going to conquer her nation and bring the knowledge of the true God to all the Aztec peoples.
The Princess told her brother, the Emperor, the details of her vision. Years later, both saw in Cortes’ arrival to the New World the realization of this vision, which aided Montezuma II’s capitulation to the Spaniards. The angel had told the Princess that she would be among the first to receive the waters that would wash away her sins, and so it was. Papantzin was baptized in 1525, taking the name of Dona Maria.
That very same year a humble native couple, of much lower descent, received the same saving waters of Baptism, taking the Christian names of Juan Diego and Maria Lucia. The Princess died four years later, in 1529, and so did Maria Lucia. Juan Diego, a convert of only four years, was now left a lonely widower. This unassuming little Indian is, as you know, the hero of our story.
The year was 1531. It had only been twelve years since the mighty Montezuma surrendered to Hernando Cortes and Spain took possession of the land for Christ the King. Juan Diego, now alone and childless, had moved to Tolpetlac to be near his aged uncle, Juan Bernardino. Here he was only nine miles from the larger city of Tlaltelolco where the Friars had a church, and he could more easily care for his uncle as well as attend Mass and catechism lessons. In the year 1531, Juan was still strong and robust, but beginning to feel his age. He was by this time 57 years old, and the nine-mile walk over the broad hills to Mass was beginning to tire him a little more now.
Juan Meets Our Lady at Tepeyac Hill
December 9th, 1531, the day on which the feast of the Immaculate Conception was then celebrated, was a Saturday that year. Juan rose early and, leaving his house in the cold starlight, began the long walk across the undulating country to assist at the Mass in honor of Our Lady. This particular feast was very special for him. The good Franciscan Friars had explained to the Indians how the Mother of Christ had been conceived without the least stain of sin, because she had been redeemed by a special grace before all others, in view of her Son’s death on Calvary. She was the all-pure and all-shining one who was also his very own Mother.
Our Lady chose the humble Indian Juan Diego to be her messenger.
Juan felt less lonely as he quickened his pace. Soon he approached the shoulder of the hill called Tepeyac. There had stood here, not that long ago, a pagan temple in honor of Mother Earth, a goddess with a head composed of loathsome snakes, a garment of writhing serpents and a fearful countenance. This hideous monster had been worshipped on this very spot as the “Giver of Life” and its Devourer, “Mother” of all living things and the “Tomb” of all.
Juan shuddered and suddenly stood still. What was that he heard? Strains of soft music coming from somewhere…where? Was it his imagination? No, the music was unmistakably real and more beautiful than anything he had ever heard before. It was like the chorus of a thousand birds, filling the air with ravishing sweetness!
Juan gazed up in wonderment at the dark outline of Tepeyac Hill from where this blissful harmony flowed down like liquid silver. To his amazement, he saw a glowing white cloud at the top, emblazoned by a brilliant rainbow of colors and light. Suddenly the music ceased without the trace of an echo. Then he heard his name called! A gentle voice, a young girl’s voice, sweet but insistent, pierced through him like a golden spear. “Juanito… Juan Dieguito,” the voice called affectionately. “Little Juan, very little Juan.”
Who could be calling him in such an affectionate way? The Indian was mystified and inwardly drawn towards the voice, thinking perhaps he had died and was now entering into the heaven of which the Friars had often spoken.
Unafraid, he began to clamber up the slope. Upon reaching its 130-foot summit, Juan found himself face to face with a Lady of overpowering brilliance and beauty. Juan could hardly believe his eyes. This surely was like no dream he had ever had before!
The beautiful Lady before him was young, perhaps fourteen years old, and was beckoning Juan to come closer. The Indian took a few steps then sank to his knees, dazed by the supernatural loveliness of the apparition. She spoke again: “Juanito, the smallest of my children, where are you going?” Her tone of voice was low and gentle, full of esteem and respect.
She continued to speak in her most sweet way, in the way one addresses someone greatly esteemed. She said: “Know for certain, dearest of my sons, that I am the perfect and perpetual Virgin Mary, Mother of the True God, the Lord of all, Master of Heaven and Earth, through Whom all things live. I ardently desire that a temple be built here for me. Here I will give all my love, all my compassion, all my help and protection to the people.
“I am your Merciful Mother, the Mother of all who live united in this land, the Mother of all mankind, of all those who love me, of those who cry to me, of those who have confidence in me. Here I will hear their weeping and their sorrows, and I will remedy and alleviate their sufferings, necessities and misfortunes…
The Holy Virgin Gives Juan Diego a Difficult Task
“Therefore, in order that my wishes may be carried out, it is necessary that you go to the house of the bishop in Mexico City and tell him that I have sent you and that it is my desire to have a temple built for me here on this place. You shall tell him exactly what you have seen and heard.”
The bishop’s house? Mexico City? The Lady gazed compassionately upon Juan and said: “Be assured, littlest of my sons, that I shall be very grateful and I shall reward you and make you happy for the work and trouble that you undertake for me. Now you have heard my words. Go and do everything as best as you can.”
Juan bowed very low and said reverently, “My Holy One, my Lady, I will do all you ask of me.” Then he took leave of her and descended the rocky slope of Tepeyac, and set off in rapt wonder towards Mexico City.
What was asked of Juan seemed almost overwhelming. He, a poor Indian, was to find the bishop’s house in the city, gain admission, convince Bishop Zumárraga of the truth of his story and obtain from him a promise to build a church on Tepeyac Hill. Would the bishop’s servants let him in? Would the bishop believe such a fantastic story? Who was he, Juan Diego, to go before such a great man? How suddenly uncomfortable he felt in his coarse clothing and lowly status! But the vision said she was the Mother of God and she had entrusted him, Juan Diego, with this mission. He squared his shoulders and determined to see it through. He found the episcopal residence and slowly and deliberately knocked on the door. It was opened by a servant who eyed him suspiciously. He respectfully requested to see the bishop. The servant, after some hesitation, ushered him into a patio and told him to wait.
An hour dragged by. At last an official appeared and announced that His Excellency was ready to see him. Bishop Zumárraga rose to greet his unusual visitor with his kindness, for the bishop was a good man, a learned Franciscan who had great zeal for the Faith. He probably was not told how long the Indian had been kept waiting. Juan Diego knelt before the bishop and, endeavoring to overcome his timidity, began to explain the vision, the request, all he had seen and heard, as the Lady had said.
The bishop regarded Juan carefully. Gently, he laid his hand on Juan’s shoulder, saying: “You must come again, my son, when I can hear you more at my leisure. I will reflect on what you have told me and will take into consideration your good will and the earnest desire that caused you to come to me.” Then he gave Juan a sign of dismissal. Although the Indian had half expected this, he was greatly dismayed, for he felt that he had failed.
The Lady Insists: Juan Diego Must Convince the Bishop
As Juan Diego retraced his steps and drew near Tepeyac, he knew the Lady would be waiting for him, and so she was. Falling to his knees, he poured out the miserable story of his failure. He ended with these words: “I beg you, noble Lady, entrust this message to someone of importance, someone well-known and respected, so that your wish will be accomplished, for I am only a lowly peasant and you, My Lady, have sent me to a place where I have no standing. Forgive me if I have disappointed you for having failed in my mission.”
It was not likely that the Lady would change her mind about Juan after this little speech. She smiled and said to him: “Listen to me, my dearest son, and understand that I have many servants and messengers whom I could charge with the delivery of this message. But it is altogether necessary that you should be the one to undertake this mission and through your mediation that it be accomplished.
“I urge you to go again tomorrow morning to see the bishop. Tell him in my name, and make him understand my desire. Repeat to him that it is I in person, the ever Virgin Mary, the Mother of God, who send you.”
Gazing upon her beautiful face, Juan felt a surge of confidence. “Holy Lady, I will not disappoint you,” he said. “I will gladly go again at your command, even though once more I may not be believed. Tomorrow I shall return and give you an account of the bishop’s response.” Juan rose to his feet, bowed low and took leave of the beautiful Lady.
The next day was similar to the first, only worse. Juan faced the suspicion and contempt of the servants, the long wait and the bishop’s startled surprise that he should come back so soon. Juan knelt down; he was tired and cold and the long wait he had endured suddenly overcame him. Tears started down his cheeks, and the words tumbled out of his mouth as he pleaded his cause once again. The bishop was embarrassed; he asked Juan to try and calm himself. Juan took a deep breath as the bishop began to ask him many questions: Where did Juan see the Lady? What was she like? How long did she stay? And so on.
Bishop Zumárraga noticed in all this cross examination that Juan never once contradicted himself; his story was always the same. He was impressed, but not enough to launch the building of a church on the top of Tepeyac! How could he be sure it really was Our Lady?
The bishop decided to do what any one of us would do in his place: ask for a sign. Juan felt better; this was some progress! “What sign would Your Excellency desire?” The bishop said he would leave that up to the Lady. And with that, Juan was dismissed.
As soon as he was gone, the bishop ordered several trusted aides to follow Juan carefully and observe where he went and to whom he spoke. This was done, the aides observing a discreet distance from Juan, yet keeping him in sight. Alas, when the Indian reached the hill of Tepeyac he suddenly seemed to vanish from view! Annoyed, they returned to the bishop and told him that Juan was an imposter. The bishop said nothing. He decided to withhold his judgment pending the outcome of his request for a sign.
When Juan Diego tried to avoid the Lady as he hurried to get a priest for his uncle, she came down the hill to meet him and greeted him kindly.
Meanwhile, Juan was again pouring out his sad tale to the Lady. When his anguished voice was silent at last, she smiled her lovely smile and said tenderly: “That is very good, my little son. Return here tomorrow and you will have the sign the Bishop has requested. Then he will believe and no longer doubt or suspect you.”
Then she smiled even more beautifully and said: “Mark my words, my little son. I shall richly reward you for all the worry, work and trouble you have undertaken in my behalf. You may go home now. Tomorrow, I shall be waiting for you, here.” Juan felt light as a feather, perhaps this time he wouldn’t fail!
Upon returning home that Sunday evening Juan Diego found his uncle, Juan Bernardino, succumbing to a very serious fever. Consequently, he failed to show up the next morning for the scheduled appointment, but instead skirted around Tepeyac to avoid meeting Our Lady as he headed towards the city to fetch a priest for his uncle.
Poor Juan Diego! See him hasten round the hill, trying not to be seen from the usual elevation where he thinks the Lady may be waiting… Suddenly he is startled to see her descending the summit and coming towards him, heading him off at the pass, so to speak. No getting out of it now! Overcome by shame and confusion, Juan prostrates himself before her and begins to mutter all sorts of silly things.
“My Lady, why are you up so early? I trust you are well? I hope you slept well?” Poor Juan!
But the Lady, who knows everything that is troubling us before we even tell her, already has her beautiful message prepared, along with her own plan for the whole picture, which most of the time, we just don’t see, do we?
(To be continued…)
–Taken from the Reign of Mary Quarterly Magazine, Issue 156
