When I arrived for our regular 6:30 a.m. Wednesday men's group, the church parking lot was filled like Ash Wednesday and Palm Sunday combined. The crowd was there for the morning festivities for Our Lady of Guadalupe, which began at 5. I had gotten up at 4:20 thinking I might go, but since my Spanish is buenos dias to non-existent and temps were in the 40s, I decided to read Matins and the Office of Readings for the day in English at home instead.
This is only the second year for our celebration of Guadalupe. A couple of miles east, at St. Julianna's, this has been going on for years. Inside the church they build a climbable model of Tepeyac, with cactus and Spanish bayonet, and roses and the statue at the top, sing the Office, recite the rosary, listen to a Mariachi band, drink hot chocolate and eat whatever. They start at 4:30. We have gotten only as far as the Mariachis and a 5-foot in diameter model of the Basilica near Mexico City, with changing lights. And a Mexican flag. Long way to go here.
Real long way to go, compared the the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Des Plaines, Ill., a few miles north of Deacon Jim. They were preparing for 300,000 pilgrims today. They usually top 200,000. The Basilica near Mexico City that Mary asked for in 1531 was already overflowing yesterday as I saw on Spanish TV while having lunch. Every Mexican singing star, no matter how short her skirt, was there to sing up a storm together for Our Lady.
All this goes on under the noses but beneath the notice of most non-Hispanic Catholics. I was thinking this morning about how Mary picked out the poor, disregarded Indian Juan Diego instead of the Spanish bishop of Mexico City to create a new church in the new world.
And I was thinking of how her image -- surviving all these years in a medium that lasts 20 years tops -- is the Statue of Liberty for Mexicans and Central Americans sitting at the border where our own successor Hispanic majesties argue over how big a wall we need to keep them out. And I was wondering why writing "deed" on a piece of paper authorizes people who have the paper to look down on people who don't. And things like that.
As the country gets browner I suspect the gringos will find out about Our Lady of Guadalupe. Some places you see what looks like the image, but when you look more closely you see that instead of the real tilma's downcast Indian eyes, you have wide open Scandanavian blue eyes. I guess the real thing is a tough sell in some quarters.
That will have to change. So will we.
I agree that the notion that she is the patron saint of all the Americas hasn't yet been absorbed into the hearts of the non-Spanish, European-heritage Catholics of North America. Whether it has been absorbed by all of the Spanish- and French- and Portuguese-heritage parts of the Americas, I am not sure.
ReplyDeleteI was having similar reflections this morning as I prepared for Morning Prayer. If you look at the universal Roman Calendar, there are patron saints or royalty or significant saints for Portugal, Sweden, Ireland, Bohemia, France, Saxony, Poland, etc. Setting aside that some of these aren't even countries anymore, they do represent territorial, linguistic and ethnic groups - and in some cases, pretty small ones. My thought, which perhaps was unworthily cynical, was that the Eurocentric ecclesiastic powers that be, until recent times, understood the many distinctions within Europe very well, but viewed "Africa" and "the Americas" as amorphous blobs where everybody more or less looks and talks the same.
Your post prompts me to the further perhaps-too-cynical reflection that we gringo United Statesians are more Eurocentric than Americas-centric; this is pretty clear when we look at the devotions to saints and appearances. There are more gringos, probably by a wide margin, who can tell us about Saint Patrick than about San Juan Diego, and who can tell us more about Lourdes and Fatima than Tepeyac.
I don't know if that's all exactly deplorable, but it presents a good spiritual opportunity for we gringos.
Just in the interest of geographic precision: Des Plaines is southeast of where I am. If you start in downtown Des Plaines and head northwest on US Highway 14, or board an outbound Union Pacific Northwest Line suburban commuter train, you'll end up in my "village's" downtown.
ReplyDeleteDes Plaines isn't far away, but I've never been to the Guadalupe Shrine hoopla that Tom describes. I'd be curious to see it at least once: some people walk from all points in the area, in some cases taking a day or more to get there. Some, I'm told, ride donkeys there. That's not something you see every day around here.
SOUTHeast? I'm lost. I thought you were pretty straight west.
DeleteLet me try to describe this from the Evanston point of view :-). Des Plaines is straight west from Evanston - you can take Golf Rd. (i.e. Emerson) to Des Plaines. My town, Arlington Heights, is due west of Wilmette or Winnetka or Kenilworth - if you start at Green Bay Rd. and go west on Lake St. (although not the Lake St. in Evanston - the one in Winnetka, I think it is), which eventually becomes Euclid Rd., or start from Willow Rd. in Kenilworth (I think that's right), which eventually becomes Palatine Rd., you'll end up in Arlington Heights.
DeleteGotcha. When I was a lad you were only a gleam in a developer's eye. Thanks.
DeleteThere are several little Protestant pentacostal storefront churches in our town, with names like "Iglesia Apostolico" or "Comunidad Espiritu Santo". I wonder if the people who go there retain a devotion to Our Lady of Guadalupe, or if that is something that gets lost along with their Catholic identity.
ReplyDeleteLet's get specific; let's talk about one particular Guadalupe. Three of you on this blog's "Contributors" list -- Jim Pauwels, Jim McCrea and Joe Komonchak --have had the good fortune to meet her.
ReplyDeleteForty-nine years ago, in a remote hamlet in rural El Salvador, Marina de Paz gave birth to her first child (eight more would follow). She named her Guadalupe. Of all things, many years later this poor creature would end up marrying ... me. I hope the rest of you will get to meet her some day. But the great news is that I just now discovered that you can see her -- for two minutes -- on the internet. Here's the background: Nine years ago a friend, Mark Ravizza SJ, gave a talk about El Salvador at Fordham University. It turns out that Fordham's website has a video of his talk: https://news.fordham.edu/faith-and-service/the-hope-of-the-uca-martyrs/
If you go to 43:48, you'll hear Mark speak briefly about an annual all-night vigil at the Jesuit university here. It's held on the anniversary of the murders, in 1989, of six Jesuits and two women on the university's campus. The killers were uniformed members of an elite, U.S.-trained counterinsurgency battalion. After Mark's introduction, you'll hear Guadalupe speak about the first time she attended the vigil -- something she'd been unable to do previously because, for seventeen years, she'd had grueling jobs -- often on the all-night shift -- at maquila factories (often referred to as "sweatshops") here. She had dropped out of school after ninth grade, in the middle of the war, to go to work to help support her family; the war had forced them to flee their home, and they were having a hard time surviving.
A few years ago Guadalupe gave a talk to a group of students at Notre Dame. Here are lightly-edited extracts from what two of them said afterward:
"Honestly, being in Guadalupe's presence that night was more than just a learning opportunity; we heard her give witness to the most tragic and heartbreaking moments of her life. Her experiences were striking in themselves, but the entire time she spoke, I just had this strange feeling of love emanating from her very core. It is hard to describe with words, but her story was so real and heartfelt that it shattered many of the assumptions and the arrogance I had brought to my perspective on El Salvador. Her testimony took me through the joys and sorrows of human life, but on extremes that I had never experienced. Hearing her was a blessing and a challenge; I hope it is something that others have the privilege of being a part of."
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"Hearing Guadalupe give her testimony about the horrors she lived through as a child and young adult was extremely moving. Her firsthand account of the uncertainty, fear, and suffering of life during [those] years gave a human face to the events I had learned about in various classes... The story of her father’s near-execution in front of her and her siblings, and the young children’s essential thwarting of the operation, was an incredible testament of love and sacrifice for family.
"Every so often she paused so that her husband, Gene, could translate for her. Hearing her story both in Spanish and English made it that much more powerful. Her courage in speaking about the trauma she endured, and her grace and eloquence were amazing. I very much admire Guadalupe for what she has survived and for her effort to share her story with others. I hope she has the chance to speak to many more students; they would be very blessed to have the opportunity to hear her."
(To be continued in next comment)
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ReplyDeleteSome years back another friend, Kevin Burke SJ, came here for a visit. I took him to meet Guadalupe. He said later that meeting her was the highlight of his trip. Shortly after his return to the U.S. he went to Regis University, in Denver, to give a talk about El Salvador. At one point he spoke about her:
"I met a woman.... Her name is Guadalupe Montalvo. She comes from a little village about two hours outside of San Salvador, and commutes in every day…. She is remarkable. This is a woman with a ninth grade education. She went to work in the maquilas at the age of 15 to put her brothers and sisters through school. Boy, was I impressed with her. She talked about how the thing that gives her life is being a catechist. She gets to teach people about Jesus. She got going nonstop, and I, with my Spanish, was trying to keep up with her.... She was so alive and I just thought, my God, if only all the people could be like this."
He later wrote to me about what happened after the talk. A young woman who, the previous year, had been in the study-abroad program where Guadalupe was then working as a cook, came up to him in tears and poured out her story: "Guadalupe was my salvation during my time in El Salvador.... She’s the most incredible person I’ve ever met -- and I can't believe you just talked about her!" He said she told him that meeting Guadalupe and her family was an amazing, life-changing experience.
You'd be on very safe ground if you said that I'm a lucky guy.
¡¡Que viva Guadalupe!!
Gene, thanks for those wonderful comments. I'd say lucky doesn't begin to cover it :-).
ReplyDeleteGene, it is an honor to "meet" Guadalupe even through the medium of Youtube, and I am not surprised that she lives up to your praise. Hug her, and tell her I sent it.
ReplyDeleteThank you for the youtube link, Gene. I am happy to get the opportunity to hear Guadalupe speak. Thanks also for your comments sharing a little of her story.
ReplyDeleteGene: it was good to see the youtube and "see" Guadalupe again. Not the same as in San Francisco lo these many years ago, now, but better than not at all.
ReplyDeleteYou folks should know that when we met Jim in San Francisco, not only did he take us to Mass at his parish; he took us to Starbucks for coffee afterward.
ReplyDeleteThe clown pilgrims of Our Lady of Guadalupe
ReplyDeletehttps://religionnews.com/2018/12/12/3-the-clown-pilgrims-of-our-lady-of-guadalupe/
Had to. There was no GOOD coffee shop around. Peet's beats Starbux hands' down.
ReplyDeleteThere are so many Latino people around, I don't think of them as "foreigners", just another flavor of American. Maybe it comes from the familiarity of a shared Catholicism, though that also has a different accent. I can't help but believe that immigrants from the South comprise an infusion of quality to the US.
ReplyDelete