On
July 31, 2002 the Holy Father canonized Juan Diego, a humble Indian to
whom the Mother of God appeared in Mexico in 1531 and on whose cloak she
left her image as Our Lady of Guadalupe. With this canonization, the
Church has placed one more seal on the authenticity of the apparitions
that changed the course of the history of Mexico and gave all the
Americas a great patroness. Alongside our invoking the intercession of
the Virgin of Guadalupe, we may now also say, “Saint Juan Diego, pray for us.” We dedicate the following article to him.
"Eagle that speaks"
In the year 1474, a boy was born in Aztec Mexico in the village of
Cuautitlan, about seven miles from the capital of the Empire, then known
as Tenochtitlan, today Mexico City.
He was named, Quauhtlatoatzin, or
“Eagle that speaks.” His
origin was humble and poor, yet this boy had been chosen by God to
convey one of the greatest messages ever delivered to any nation.
Despite having reached the first degree of civilization with its
cities and writing system, Mexico’s religion was satanically barbarous.
In the words of one historian: “Nowhere else in human history has Satan
so formalized and institutionalized his worship with so many of his own
actual titles and symbols.” This was the old Empire of Mexico worshiping
the “Lord of the Dark” and the “Stone Serpent,” requiring a quota of,
at least, 50,000 human sacrifices each year.
When
“Eagle that speaks” was thirteen years old, a sacrifice
of no less than 80,000 victims was offered to inaugurate the greatest
of all pyramids. As he witnessed these horrors, maybe the young boy sent
up a prayer for the accomplishment of an old Mexican prophecy that, one
day, a God who hated human sacrifice would reach Mexico. Oddly enough,
this prophecy even specified the year and the date on which this God
would arrive.
Sails on the horizon
The year by the Christian calendar was 1519; the day was a Good
Friday. Montezuma II, then Emperor, a superstitious man, was on high
alert because that was also the date in the Mexican prophecy.
If any Aztecs scanned the horizons of Mexico on that Good Friday
morning, they saw eleven ships bearing great white sails marked by a
black cross heading for their shore.
Commanded by the thirty-three-year-old Spaniard Hernan Cortes, the
fleet anchored. Soon, at the captain’s orders, a cross was planted in
the sand.
Hernan Cortes and his six hundred warriors were descendants of men
who had battled Muslims for eight hundred years to free their beloved
Spain from the dominion of Islam. It took all that bravery seething in
their veins to tackle the monumental task that lay ahead of them:
namely, to snatch fifteen million people from the darkness and
oppression of a satanic regime and introduce them to the sweet yoke of
Our Lord Jesus Christ.
Sinking his ships in a gesture of unparalleled bravery so as to spare
his men the temptation to flee, Cortes set his face and his small army
to conquer Mexico for the Faith. The next year saw a series of battles
of biblical proportions, terrible defeats, renewed attacks, great feats
of diplomacy resulting in solid alliances with certain native tribes,
and daring coups. The odds were those of one against ten thousand but,
like Emperor Constantine of old, Cortes launched his mission under the
banner of the cross, telling his men: “Brothers and companions, let us
follow the sign of the Cross with true faith and in it we shall
conquer.”
At the end, Montezuma was dead, Mexico City had been conquered, a new
government was established and churches began to rise in place of the
old pagan temples.
Twelve Apostles
By this time,
“Eagle that speaks” was a man entering middle
age. He was married to a good woman and worked at farming, weaving mats,
making furniture and anything else that would support them. He had an
innate sweetness and compliant nature and a very humble disposition
coupled with a quiet dignity.
One day, a few barefooted men in brown habits entered his village.
They were Franciscans, a few from a group of twelve sent by Emperor
Charles V of Spain for the evangelization of Mexico. These brave and
zealous men had arrived in 1521, only two years after Cortes.
“Eagle that speaks” attentively listened to all they had to
say and was soon bowing his head before one of them to receive the
redeeming waters of Baptism. He was Christened Juan Diego. Baptized
alongside him were his wife and uncle, who received the Christian names
of Maria Lucia and Juan Bernardino. Juan Diego and his family were among
the first natives to accept the Catholic Faith in Mexico. It was the
year 1525.
After baptism, Juan Diego and Maria Lucia often continued to walk to
Mass and instructions to the new church in Tlatelolco near Mexico City,
about fifteen miles from their village.
Tepeyac Hill
On December 9, 1531, which was then the feast of the Immaculate
Conception, Juan Diego again made his way among cactus plants and
mesquite bushes to the Church at Tlatelolco near Mexico City as was his
custom. He now covered the distance alone since his good wife had died
two years before. He must have missed her sorely for he had moved to
Tepotzotlan to be with his uncle.
Nearing Mexico City, Juan Diego always passed a hill called Tepeyac.
Its summit had been the site of a former temple to the pagan “Mother
God.”
This morning as he neared Tepeyac, he suddenly stopped, hearing
ineffable music that seemed to come from the top of the hill. Juan
strained his bewildered eyes as he looked upward in hopes of discovering
the source of so delightful a melody. It was then that he saw a
dazzling cloud, emblazoned by a brilliant rainbow. Suddenly the melody
ceased altogether and he heard the sweetest of all feminine voices
calling his name in his native Nahuatl: “Juantzin…”
The voice used the diminutive of his name and it is impossible to
convey what that meant as far as affectionate expression. Maybe, in our
English it would be something like: “My dear little John.”
Without fear, Juan Diego clambered up the 130-foot-high summit and
found himself facing a lady of dazzling beauty. Her garments shone like
the sun and the light streaming from her person transformed all nature
around her into a play of color as if seen through a stained glass
window. Even the smallest leaves looked like sparkling emeralds and
turquoises and the tiniest branches as if dipped in gold.
The lady motioned for Juan Diego to approach and as he did so, she spoke:
“Listen, my dearest little son, Juan, where are you going?”
“My lady, my queen, my little girl,” answered the happy Indian, “I am
going to your little house in Mexico-Tlatelolco, to follow the things
of God that are taught to us by those who are the images of Our Lord,
our priests.”
“Know for certain, my little son,” said the lady, “that I am the
perfect ever-virgin Holy Mary, Mother of the one true God…. I am your
merciful mother, yours and of all the people who live united in this
land, and of all mankind, of all those who love me, of those who cry to
me, of those who seek me and of those who trust in me. Here I will hear
their weeping, their sorrow and will remedy and nurse all their
troubles, their miseries, their suffering.”
Then she went on to ask Juan Diego to go to the Bishop of Mexico, Don
Juan de Zumarraga, to ask him to build her a house on the hill. She
finished by thanking him for his trouble and promising to reward him
abundantly.
After some difficulty, Juan Diego saw Bishop Zumarraga who listened
to him attentively but did not take him very seriously. The bishop
dismissed him kindly, promising to think about all he had said and to
see him again.
Knowing he had not convinced the prelate, Juan Diego returned to
Tepeyac Hill and found the Mother of God waiting for him. At her feet,
he told her all about the interview and begged her to send someone of
more renown, of a higher station in life, one who would be more readily
believed.
Our Lady replied affectionately: “Listen, my little son, I have many
servants, many messengers… but it is most necessary that you go
personally to plead, and that, through you, my will be realized… So, go
and tell him once more, that it is I, the ever-virgin Holy Mary, I who
am the Mother of God, who sends you.”
On the next day, a Sunday, Juan Diego returned to the bishop’s house.
After much difficulty with the servants, he was received. Juan Diego
again delivered his message. Bishop Zumarraga questioned him closely and
finished by asking for a sign.
“Señor Governador,” answered Juan Diego, “think about what the sign
you ask for will be, because then I will go to ask for it of the Queen
of Heaven who sent me.”
Once Juan Diego left, Bishop Zumarraga had him followed. But near
Tepeyac, his followers lost sight of him. Quite upset, they returned to
the Bishop convinced that the Indian was only making up stories. So it
was decided that when he returned he would be punished.
Meanwhile Juan Diego was with the Virgin explaining to her the bishop’s request for a sign.
“That’s fine, my little son, return here tomorrow so you may take to
the bishop the sign which he asks. With this he will believe you and no
longer doubt this and no longer suspect you. And know well, my little
son, that I will reward you all the trouble and fatigue that you have
undertaken for me. Go now. I will be waiting for you tomorrow.”
Juan evades the Virgin
But the next day, Juan Diego did not return. His uncle had sickened
and was dying, so Juan spent all of Monday with him. On Tuesday, before
dawn, the good Indian made his way to Mexico City to call a priest to
give his uncle the last rites. Passing Tepeyac hill, he thought of
skirting it so the Lady would not see him and stop him.
As he did so, however, he saw her coming down the hill to meet him.
“What’s wrong, my little son? Where are you going?”
Bending low, Juan Diego greeted her and wished her a good morning as he explained his uncle’s predicament.
“Listen, and place it deeply in your heart, my littlest son,” spoke
the Queen of Heaven. “What frightens and worries you is nothing. Do not
let it disturb you. Do not fear this sickness, or any other sickness, or
any sharp and hurtful thing. Am I not here, your Mother? Are you not
under my shadow and my protection? Am I not the source of your joy? Are
you not in the hollow of my mantle, in the crossing of my arms? Do you
need something more? Let nothing else worry you or disturb you; do not
let your uncle’s illness upset you, because he will not die of it now.
You may be certain that he is already well.”
Juan Diego, greatly comforted at these words, begged her, instead, to
send him to the bishop with her sign. Then the Blessed Virgin told him
to go to the top of the hill and gather the flowers he would find there.
Astonished at the beauty of the blooms miraculously growing in that
spot, he gathered them all and returned to where the Lady awaited him.
With feminine touch, she arranged them with her own hands inside his
tilma, a cloak he wore to shield him from the cold, and bade him go to
the bishop again.
The miracle
The servants at the gates of the bishop’s residence would not listen
to the poor Indian’s entreaties to see Don Zumarraga. Juan Diego, having
no other recourse, waited patiently for a long time. Seeing him
standing there holding something in his tilma, the doorkeeper and
servants became curious and began to harass him so that he let them have
a peek.
Great was their amazement at the sight of the exquisite flowers,
their perfume, and the fact that this was not at all the season for
these blooms. Three times they tried to grab a few out of Juan Diego’s
tilma but, as they attempted to do so, the flowers became as if painted
on the cloth, thus evading their grasp.
The servants then ran to tell the bishop what they had seen. Hearing
this, Don Zumarraga realized that here was the sign he had requested and
had Juan Diego brought in immediately.
As soon as he entered the bishop’s chamber, Juan Diego prostrated
himself in his presence and related to him all that had happened and how
he had found these beautiful flowers blooming out of season on top of
the hill at the Lady’s command.
The humble Indian then held out his tilma and just as the flowers
cascaded to the floor, before all present, O marvel, there appeared on
the cloth an image of the Blessed Virgin Mary just as Juan Diego had
seen her.
Weeping and falling to his knees, Don Zumarraga, asked the Mother of
God’s forgiveness for not having immediately carried out her will.
Then, untying the tilma from around Juan Diego’s neck, Bishop Zumarraga had the miraculous icon placed in his private chapel.
Guadalupenos
As Juan Diego returned home, he found his uncle cured and ecstatic
with joy because the Lady of Tepeyac had also appeared to him. On
delivering him of his illness, she had also revealed her name:
“Coatlaxopeuh,” or “she who crushes the serpent.” It soon was to be
understood as Guadalupe.
Meanwhile, as Bishop Zumarraga prayed fervently before the miraculous
image of the resplendent Virgin of Guadalupe, his heart overflowed with
gratitude as he remembered a prayer of some time before.
Two of the first Spanish governors appointed to Mexico were cruel to
the Indians. Other Spaniards in authority also had more heart for gold
than the welfare of the natives. He, Zumarraga, eventually had these men
ousted but, meanwhile, the Indians threatened to revolt. The Indians
also felt that they had lost their identity on accepting the religion of
the Spaniards. Before, despite the horrors of paganism, they were
Aztecs. But now, what were they?
In his affliction, Bishop Zumarraga had asked for a sign of the
Mother of God that she would protect the new colony. He had asked for
Castillian roses not native to Mexico. And Castillian roses were the
very flowers that had cascaded onto the floor as Juan Diego opened his
tilma! And then the Mystical Rose herself had left her wondrous
portrait.
Our Lady, by appearing to an Indian in the turquoise robes of Aztec
royalty with their own brown features, had sent the whole of Mexico the
message: “I am your Queen, your Mother and you are my very own.” The
natives now had a place and a name: the place was the very heart of
God’s own Mother and the name, Guadalupenos.
A chapel was soon built on Tepeyac Hill, to be followed by a great
basilica. Former Aztec Indians began to flock there by the thousands
with the result that in seventeen years the number of baptisms had
catapulted from two hundred thousand to nine million.
Juan Diego spent the rest of his life by his beloved Virgin. He died
in 1548 venerated by his people for his untiring service and solid
virtue. To this day the greatest blessing of Mexican parents on their
children is:
“May God make you like Juan Diego.”
By A. F. Phillips