The Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe: An Advent Reflection On this Third Sunday of Advent, typically defined by the rose colored candle that is lit on the wreath, the Church honors Mary—our Lady of Guadalupe—whose feast day is the 12th. However, the norm is for the Third Sunday of Advent to take precedence. Normally falling on a weekday, most in our Catholic faith have little understanding of the intriguing background behind Mary’s appearance to Juan Diego. We should not be surprised how God works through the most marginal and neglected bringing forth the grace of faith and hope. Hector Avilia immigrated to the United States when he was two. Presently he volunteers for a Catholic organization— inner city Chicago—reinforcing faith and hope of the marginalized in those neighborhoods. May I draw from his understanding: “If you have had the privilege of celebrating the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City, or at a local parish with a large Mexican population. . .you will see a celebration like no other. In my home parish near Albuquerque, New Mexico, no holiday packs the community center that quite like this day. Not Christmas, not Easter. My mom would say, ‘Catholics come to celebrate Jesus, Guadalupanos come to celebrate La Virgencita Morena.’ The impact of the apparition of Mary to San Juan Diego is arguably as radical and countercultural as any other event in Christian history, especially in the Americas. The year is 1531, ten years after the Aztec empire falls to the invading Spanish conquistadores. This is not a time of ‘convergence of two cultures’ as it is often misunderstood; this is a period of complete and utter destruction. Arguably the biggest crime against the Mexican people was not the violence the Europeans inflicted, nor the diseases they brought that almost eliminated an entire population, but rather the decimation of their religion and traditions at the hands of the missionaries. The native population was enslaved both in body and spirit. Many Aztecs chose starvation, suicide, or even killing their newborns as an alternative to living in a new world where they were now the foreigners, where they were told that they were worthless. Even though the natives were forced into Christianity, they were barred from being in complete communion. . . .In this environment, Mary chooses the lowliest of the low to carry her request. . .to the highest religious authority in Mexico, Bishop Zumárraga. She chooses an indigenous man by the name of Juan Diego. Because of who he is, the Bishop does not believe him. . . .Not until Juan Diego brings flowers that were impossible to grow that time of year and the image of Mary on his tilma does the Bishop believe. . . .For the first time. . .the people of the Americas believed that they were dignified, that they belonged. For the first time, a people believed that salvation and honor was for them. The year 1531 was the year of a new creation, much like when God became flesh. God prefers the presence of the marginalized and the outcast. Time and again, God shows us this, and yet—at times—we choose to be like Zumárraga and not listen to those who cry for help and the smallest of dignity. Let us learn to listen and accompany those that our society, and even the Church, has told us are incapable of speaking the truth. God lives uniquely in the disenfranchised. Just less than two weeks from the 25th, may God send ‘messengers’ before each of us to recognize ‘that someone’—ignored, marginalized, forgotten—who is seeking some dignity and hope in their life. Our presence and caring can essentially be the face of Christ to another. As Mother Teresa points out, “The poverty of being unwanted, unloved and uncared for is the greatest poverty. We must start in our own homes [and communities] to remedy this kind of poverty.” Make us worthy, Lord, to serve our fellow men and women throughout the world who live and die in poverty and hunger. Give them through our hands, this day their daily bread, and by our understanding love, give peace and joy. Amen. (Prayer written by Pope Paul VI and prayed daily by Mother Teresa.) God Bless, Fr. Tim