Reflections on Profound Meaning of the Virgin of Guadalupe in Mexico and Beyond

Virgin of Guadalupe

Surrounded by Sun's Rays, symbols of the Holy Spirit, the

Virgin stands on the Half-Moon, which represents the female 

principle not just in Mesoamerica, but in many of the world

cosmologies; Cherub below the moon is widely believed to

be Saint Michael, patron saint of Mexico.

It is almost impossible to let the Day of the Virgin of Guadalupe go by without notice. Should one, perhaps, lose track of the day, the cohetes (rocket firecrackers) would bring the needed reminder. Other posts have described how the Faithful mark the day.

The article translated below appeared yesterday in La Jornada. Its author, José Cueli, is a psychoanalyst who contributes regularly to the paper. Far from traditional journalistic prose, today's piece is a prose poem rich in cultural references.

When I first read it, two experiences immediately came to mind. The first took place at a bookstore in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. The clerk was showing me a book whose theme seemed, to my Anglo nature, both fantastic and improbable. Reacting to my skepticism, she replied rather sharply,

"You simply won't understand Mexican culture until you understand magic and the supernatural."

Setting aside the magical realism of Colombian writer Gabriel García Márquez ("I don't invent anything; everything I write down is already there"), it's still taken some time for me to open up to the place where this aspect of human imagination and expression dwells. Cueli's piece is at home there.

The second experience took place in Chicago while I was getting a haircut. I mentioned to the Guatemalan-born hairstylist that we live in Mexico. Her reaction was remarkable: eyes widening in surprise and awe, she whispered reverentially,

"Oh, México ... México is very special."

Mexico is special in Central and South America precisely for being the place where the Virgin of Guadalupe—morena (brown-skinned), speaking Náhuatl—appeared to the newly baptized Nahua peasant Juan Diego. More precisely, La Virgen Morena appeared on the Hill of Tepeyac, site of the Nahua temple to Tonantzin, believed to be a manifestation of the Earth Mother, known as Coatlicue, the mother of all living things, conceived by immaculate and miraculous means, decider of the length of life itself. Hence, to the Mexica, the Earth was both Mother and Tomb—Giver of Life and Receiver of Human Remains decomposing to rejoin the Life-Force (Ollín).

The syncretism is striking. Many scholars have pointed out the similarities in sound and attributes between Guadalupe and Coatlicue. According to Friar Bernardo de Sahagún, Spanish missionary and primary historian of the period, the indigenous people continued to call the Lady Tonantzín until around 1560, when the Spaniards baptized her with the sole name of Guadalupe.

Over time, the Virgin of Guadalupe was also embraced by the criollos (Spanish born not in Spain, but in Nueva España—Mexico). The Virgin´s personal appearance on Mexican soil was seen as establishing a direct relationship between the land, the criollos and the Mother of God. Even as the Virgin adopted the Mexican people (el pueblo) as her own; el pueblo, in turn, adopted her as the Mother of Mexico. All of Mexico, el pueblo mexicano, could—and still does—adore her.

The Guatemalan hairstylist would add that the appearance of the Náhuatl-speaking, brown-skinned Virgin in Mexico, established a direct relationship not just with los mexicanos, but with all those who live in the Western Hemisphere. The plaza in front of the Basílica Antigua de Guadalupe, Ancient Basilica of Guadalupe, is appropriately named Atrio de las Americas, Atrium of the Americas.

Cueli's reflection incorporates all these cultural nuances. Respectfully, I present my translation to you as an unusual cultural expression of the profoundly rich inner life of many Mexicans.

_______________________

The Collective Miracle of the Union, José Cueli*

The collective miracle of the union in physical pain symbolizes the Mexican Spanish-Indigenous merger in the Virgin of Guadalupe. The encounter marks the fulfillment of an experience of exceptional intensity in keeping with the inner vitality it brings about. Rather than differences, there is identity—the identification of one with the other. Even more, confusion between the two. The fulfillment of an impossible presence of complete impossibility.

Inner purity turns into ecstasy in moments when I feel transported beyond outside appearances. An open emptiness in which I lose the difference between your [Virgin's] image and objects, imitator and imitated. In an extraordinary manner, a wonderment wells up in a feeling of uncommon fullness that ... in seconds ... gives way to brutal emptiness.

In which you disappear, and the perception no longer exists. Only the dream remains with its omens, alerts, memories ... an illumination that comes to me in an exceptional way ... and grows and pays the debt, my beloved, of pain in the realm of shadows, state of internal exhaustion, difficult to define. A transfiguration that discovers the profound experience of solitude. An intense confusion that imagines the summons to return to the routine ... heartbroken and melancholy.

Depression over the loss of self-exaltation. Clothed in the colors of a narcissism that becomes almost unbearable in that I seek, imagine and plan the return to those extraordinary moments of union, without which the future seems to stop making sense ... upon feeling myself abandoned, rejected by you, and threatened by a spiritual desolation, an incision that inserts confusion between opposites.

"In the current plaza of the Basilica of Guadalupe, called monumental, they have built two pyramid bases for the dancers on December 12. Four centuries later, representatives of the new cult see themselves as needed to erect what they destroyed four centuries ago. Undoubtedly, the XVI Century Convent and indigenous activity was the same as for the 'Calmecac', its students and priests." (Santiago Ramírez Ruiz).

Note: The Calmecac—"House of the Lineage"—was an academy for sons of Aztec nobility, where they received rigorous religious and military training.

"The slash of the Spanish la tizona [legendary sword] has not separated us from the ancient world, from the primal and original poetry of our explosive and magical responsibility. The myth became flesh. At the tip of la tizona, the feathered serpent, the pieces gathered up new and old life. They went into the woods and hid everywhere. Today they abduct and soar in words, blood and dreams, as vivid as in the codices—legends, fresh and monolithic." (Luis Cardoza y Aragón).

Note: In Spanish literature, 'la tizona' is the name given to one of the legendary swords used by El Cid to fight the Moors, who occupied Spain for 800 years, 711-1492 CE. 'The Plumed Serpent' is Quetzalcóatl, related to gods of the wind, of Venus, of the dawn, of merchants and of arts, crafts and knowledge. But, significant here, Quetzalcóatl was also the patron god of the Aztec priesthood, of learning and knowledge. The codices are the Aztec writings.

"The Virgin of Guadalupe is the surrogate mother who calms and satisfies. She stands as the symbolic banner of two cultures: one looks inward, where it has encountered philosophical truth 'under lock and key'; the other looks outward. For one ... restraint in man; for the other ... the legend." (Miguel León-Portilla) 

Spanish original

*José Cueli García, born in Mexico City in 1934, completed studies in medicine, psychology and psychoanalysis; holds the doctorate in psychology from the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM). Since 1965, Dr. Cueli has been a professor in UNAM's School of Psychology.

Quotations are all taken from the same source: Selected Works (transl.), Obras escogidas, Ed. Línea, 1983. Writers cited are:

• Santiago Ramírez Ruiz Sandoval (Mexico City, 1921-1989), physician (UNAM) and psychoanalist.
• Luis Cardoza y Aragón (1901-1992), Guatemalan writer, essayist, poet, art critic and diplomat, spent much of his life in exile in Mexico.
• Miguel León-Portilla (Mexico City, 1926- ), Mexican anthropologist and historian (UNAM), is a prime authority on Náhuatl thought and literature.

Méxica (Aztec) Dancers at the Basilica of the Virgin of Guadalupe

Sometimes we foolishly think, "After three years, we're reasonably comfortable with Mexican culture." But then something happens that sets us back on our cultural heels. Which brings me to our visit last Sunday to the Basílica de la Virgen de Guadalupe.

We rode three Metros to get there, then walked several blocks to the Basílica's grounds. The closer we got, the more congested the foot-traffic became. Echoing my unspoken thought, Reed was heard to mutter, "Next time let's visit on a weekday."

Turning into the entrance, we were squeezed with way-too-many other people into a walkway lined with puestos selling absolutely everything from religious objects to shoes.

Then still crowded together, we climbed what felt like interminable stairs, but the path eventually opened out onto a gigantic plaza in front of the Basilica.  As we made our way toward more open space, we became aware of a relentless drumbeat | What on earth...?

Basílica de la Virgin de Guadalupe,
Sunday, November 13, 2011

The gold dome of the original Basilica can be seen in the background (left).  The towers to the right are castillos (fireworks towers) under construction for celebration of the Pirotécnica de la República Mexicana (Fireworks of the Mexican Republic) in honor of the Virgin of Guadalupe, whose Feast Day is observed on December 12.

To sample the sights and sounds that swept over us as we made our way across the Plaza, click here for Jenny's first-ever YouTube (18 sec.). 

What's missing from both photo and video is the unforgettable fragrance of burning copal—the traditional incense throughout Mexico. But don't let me get ahead of myself.

Appearance of the Lady to Juan Diego

In an earlier post, I wrote at length about the appearance on the Hill of Tepeyac of the Brown-skinned Lady who spoke in Nahuatl to the baptized indigenous peasant Juan Diego. In that post, I also introduced Tonantzin, believed to be a manifestation of the Earth Goddess Coatlicue, who both gave life and decided its length.

Tonantzin is important because the Spanish destroyed her temple on Tepeyac Hill—at precisely the same place where the Virgen Morena (brown-skinned Virgin) first appeared to Juan Diego.

According to Friar Bernardino de Sahagún, 16th century Catholic missionary and anthropologist, the indigenous peoples continued to call the Lady Tonantzín until around 1560, when the Spaniards baptized her with the sole Spanish name of Guadalupe. 

The appearance of the Virgen Morena, who spoke Náhuatl and vowed to protect the Mexican people, persuaded many reluctant indigenous to convert to Catholicism. Embraced over time by Mestizos (Spanish-Indigenous) and by criollos (Spanish born in Mexico), the Virgin of Guadalupe has become 'the' quintessential  symbol of an ever-evolving Mexican identity (mexicanidad, or Mexican-ness) that includes all the peoples who belong to this land.

The power of her symbol is such that social and political change has been initiated in her name. In 1810 Father Miguel Hidalgo led a group of peasants in a revolt against the dominant criollos under the banner of the Virgin of Guadalupe. Although unsuccessful, this revolt is recognized as the beginning of the War of Independence from Spain.

The Basílica's official web site posts the following, remarkable statement (my translation):

"The people presented the Virgin to their children as the mother of the creator and protector of the entire universe, who comes to the people because she wants to embrace them all—Indian and Spanish—with the same mother's love. The miraculous image imprinted on the sisal—a plant whose strong fibers were used by indigenous weavers to make tilmas (cloaks)—signaled the dawn of a new world, which was the Sixth Sun awaited by the Mexicas (Aztecs)." (See Jenny's post, Aztec Stone of the Five Suns)

Over time, the Virgin of Guadalupe has come to be recognized as protector of all the Americas. The square in front of the Basílica Antigua is appropriately named Atrio de las Americas.

A year ago in Chicago, I met a young woman from Guatemala. When I mentioned that I live in Mexico, her eyes widened and she exclaimed with awe in her voice, "Oh, México—México is very special." At the time, I didn't understand her response—only now am I beginning to understand.

Virgin of Guadalupe
The Virgin of Guadalupe, surrounded by the Sun's Rays, symbols of the
Holy Spirit, stands on Half-Moon, which represents the female principle
not only in Mesoamerican cosmology, but in many world cosmologies; the
Cherub below the moon is widely believed to be Saint Michael,
patron saint of Mexico.

Mexico's Historical Layers Replayed at the Basilica

Our visit to the Basilica was almost overwhelming. Evident in ways we have never before experienced simultaneously in one place were the many and diverse layers of Mexico's cultural heritage: 

• Contemporary Global Mexico that began in the 1980's with the economic opening forced by the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and solidified with NAFTA (1994);

• National Mexico that came into being following Mexico's Independence from Spain (1817);

• Colonial Mexico that encompassed the three hundred years (1521-1817) of Spanish rule; and the

• Indigenous (Mesoamerican) history and culture that began a full 3,000 years ago.   

The satellite photo below shows the major buildings on the Basilica's grounds. To enlarge the photo, left click.  

Satellite Photo: Entering the grounds through a gate at the bottom
of the photo, we threaded a path between dancers and spectators
across the Plaza in front of the New Basilica to the Antigua Basílica.
Later, Reed walked in the direction of the Capilla del Cerrito (upper right). 

The following descriptions are excerpted from a Wikipedia article on the Basilica.

Capilla del Cerrito (Chapel of the Little Hill, photo top) marks the place where Juan Diego encountered the brown-skinned Lady for the second time and, at her command, gathered up roses blooming in the middle of winter. The chapel is the first constructed at Tepeyac (1526). 

Antigua Basilica (photo middle) is the site's first church and dates from 1536. Its construction was ordered by the  Archbishop to comply with the Virgin's command to build a church on that site and was enlarged over time into the 18th c.

The following buildings are located more or less next to each other,
starting at the Antigua Basilica and moving left to right: 

Parroquia Capuchinas (Franciscan Parish Church), whose formal name is Templo y exconvento de las Capuchinas (Capuchinas refers to the Franciscan Order, whose vows include wearing only sandals, or going barefoot; Franciscans were missionaries to the Indigenous in New Spain). Built in 1797, the convent housed Franciscan nuns. 

Parroquia de Indios (Temple of the Indians): According to tradition, this temple housed the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe for many years until it was relocated to the Templo Artesonado in the 16th century. In keeping with Spanish construction practice, the current temple is built atop the foundation for the ancient Méxicas (Aztec) Temple of Tonantzin.   

Capilla del Pocito. The people considered this to be the exact place where the Virgin of Guadalupe appeared for the first time and spoke with Juan Diego.

New Básilica: Circular structure with its irregularly-shaped, greenish dome (left). Completed in 1976, Juan Diego's tilma with its  image of the Virgin of Guadalupe is visible above and behind the altar.

Atrio de las Américas: When we entered the Basílica grounds, we entered here where we encountered the Mixteca dancers and young men busy constructing castillos.

Atrio de las Américas on a quiet day.
The New Basílica is to the left; the gold dome of the
Basílica Antigua is center right; red dome of the
Parroquia Capuchinas is at the right. 

Continuing our Tour

We would have liked to visit the Capilla del Cerrito, but it is a long stair climb so I took a break while Reed explored and captured these images.

The Capilla del Cerrito marks the spot where the Virgin
commanded Juan Diego to gather roses in the middle of winter. 

Water from a spring flows over a rock at the lower third of the photo. 
Mesoamerican peoples associated water—springs and wells—with the
dark, moist energy of the Earth Goddess, so it stands to reason that the
people came to believe that the springs on Tepeyac Hill had healing powers. 

Next we visited the 16th century Basílica Antigua. Across the intervening centuries, the floors have settled such that we walked entirely uphill as we made our way slowly toward the front of the church—a disconcerting, disorienting experience.

Entrance to the Basílica Antigua

 Basílica Antigua
Detail above the entrance

Basílica Antigua
The Virgin appears in one panel of paintings with
gold backgrounds on dome interior

Meanwhile the incessant, insistent drumbeat demanded our attention. So we returned to the Atrio to try to make sense of this sensual assault:

sights, sounds, smells and even touch as we jostle and are jostled in turn by the crowds.

A video cameraman kind enough to respond to Reed's question, replied, "This celebration is to give thanks to the Virgin for a good year"—an explanation corroborated by this banner:

The text reads: "Thank you, Little Virgin, for one more year."
Mexicans are famous for using the diminutive form [-ito, -ita]
of nouns and names—here, the linguistic tradition extends
even to the Mother of Mexico. 

But we've learned in Mexico never to accept a single explanation as complete, so while Reed was off exploring, I asked a group of young (late teen) Mexica dancers to explain what was going on. I didn't think to ask if I could take their picture, but if I had, you would have seen traditional dress on young people whose body language, facial expressions, and interpersonal style convey Global Mexico—connected via cellphone and social media.

Members of the Society of Mexicas and descendants of the original Mexicas (Aztecs) from Tlatelolco, they make an annual pilgrimage to the Basilica on the second Sunday in November to honor the day the Virgin appeared to Juan Diego. I wish I could communicate the tone of voice, the respect bordering on awe, when Juan Diego's name was spoken.

We saw Mexicans—men and women—from a broad cross-section of society, wearing traditional Mexica dress and dancing traditional dances. Memorably, one traditionally dressed man was also wearing a very expensive pair of aviator dark glasses as he took a break.

Pictures Worth Far More Than Words

Reed's images convey what cannot be set down in just a few words. [Click to enlarge photos]

Conch shell, banner, purposeful pilgrims....Mexico City is almost
200 miles from Veracruz (Gulf of Mexico) and Acapulco (Pacific Ocean),
yet Aztec nobles imported Conch and other seashells through trade and
tribute. The Conch Shell is associated with Tlaloc, god of rain, and hence with Coatlicue, goddess of the earth, and Tonantzin, one of her manifestations.

A cacaphony of sights and sounds....

Banners, feathers, men, women, children....

Elaborate headdress with two tiers of bird-heads; club has animal head. 
Remember: To enlarge, left click.  

Youth wearing rosary around his neck in living syncretism—
creative fusion of two religious traditions

Proud, composed young man

Young woman blowing Conch Shell—she was one of a
line of four women blowing Conch Shells

This headdress features a deer head—deer are
associated with gods of the hunt.

Smoke arising from incense burner (center) holding copal

The kneeling woman (right) is a curandera (healer) or shaman;
in her hand she holds a chalice containing burning copal with which she
blesses the man (kneeling left); in his right hand, he holds a conch shell;
in his left hand he is holding what looks like a bastón de mando—in the shape
of an ear of corn, the bastón de mando is an ancient symbol of authority.
Early settlers of the Balsas River Valley domesticated corn from the teosinte
plant more than 5,000 years ago.

Copal burning in three-legged pots

Mexica dancer playing stringed instrument, introduced by the
Spanish during the Colonial period—another example of cultural fusion.
Reed noticed that the back of the instrument is an armadillo shell. 

Mexica drummer; note the look as he spots Reed's camera. 
Our theory is that drums were replaced by cohetes (firecrackers,  rockets) and pirotécnica (fireworks shows displayed on castillos, or towers), which the Spanish brought from China to Mexico. Black face paint is associated with Tlaloc,
God of Rain; its appearance here reinforces the relationship between the God
of Rain and the Earth Goddess—the Earth receives and stores the seasonal rains.  

Tired niño (boy) taking a rest; ankle bracelets
become rhythm instruments when he walks or dances. 

Short Dance Video

Reed shot this short (26 sec.) video to capture the dances. Watch the feet of the dancer slightly to the left of center wearing a loin cloth and red cummerbund.  He has what dancers call ballon—a French word meaning the ability to jump easily and lightly into the air.

To me, these dances seem similar to Native American dances north of the Rio Grande.  I'd be interested in the impressions of anyone who has attended a Pow-Wow.

Mass in the Nueva Basílica

Finally, we ventured into the Nueva Basílica completed in 1976. The circular building looks more like an auditorium than a church, but it assures maximum visibility from anywhere in the sanctuary of Juan Diego's tilma imprinted with the image of the Virgin.

The Basilica can seat 10,000 people. Temporary seats are often placed in the Atrio outside, which allows an additional 40,000 people to take part in Mass and other ritual celebrations.

Mass is celebrated on the spacious, multi-level altar. Image of the
Virgin is located at the lower right side of the Cross.
With all the drumming, there was no need for the organ music,
but the pipes suggest that the sound is magnificent. 

Based on the number of pilgrims it hosts per year, the Basilica is considered to be the second most important sanctuary of Catholicism, just after Vatican City in Rome.

Juan Diego's tilma with its image of the Virgin; framed and
protected with bullet-proof glass, hangs above and behind the altar.
In 1921 an anticlerical activist planted a bomb in a flower vase near the
altar; when it exploded it caused great damage to the building's interior but—miraculously, say some—the cloak survived the bombing mostly undamaged. 

A bi-directional moving sidewalk transports people past the image of the Virgin. Those who want to see the image again can take the walkway in the opposite direction. There is no limit on the number of times a person can pass in front of the image, but the moving walkway prevents anyone from lingering—for prayer or mischief—in front of the image, thus creating a people-jam or worse.  The moving sidewalk employs modern technology to resolve issues not only of faith but of security as well. 

The Basilica's own web site features a narrated video using cartoon drawings to tell Juan Diego's story—another technical solution to a traditional challenge: how to convey a message to non-readers (illiteracy aside, the majority of Mexicans are not readers).  

Juan Diego was canonized in 2002, thus becoming the first indigenous American saint—adding yet another cultural layer.     

We hadn't been in the Basilica long when we became aware of something happening.  From where we sat, all we could see was the slow progress of feathered headdresses and banners moving up a side aisle toward the altar. Entering the spacious, multi-level altar area, banner-carriers set the banners in holders placed on the altar to receive them. 

The dancers retired to a section of reserved pews. The priest announced that the mass was in honor of the dancers. It is worth noting that the Catholic missionaries pursued an intentional strategy of building on existing spiritual beliefs—somewhat along the lines of, "Your beliefs are on the right path, but fall short. Our message is the true path."

This led to a distinct syncretism—overlaying traditional beliefs and customs with Catholic ritual and beliefs. This syncretism is strikingly evident today in the traditional dress and dances and in the custom of setting off pyrotechnics arranged in the castillos.

Our Departure

We left the Basilica grounds the way we had come, retracing our steps back through the puesto-lined walkway.  But the crowds had thinned considerably, and our departure was far easier than had been our arrival.

Puesto-lined walkway with far fewer people as we departed

As we left, Reed found more images of the Virgin carved in stone.

Stone-carved Street Monument

Detail of Virgin on stone monument. 

I don't mind admitting it. We were tired, over-stimulated and completely, yet—as the Mexican saying goes, contentos y satisfechos—content and satisfied with a memorable journey into the rich, multi-dimensional layers of Mexican culture.

Mexico Culture: Virgin of Guadalupe, Mother of Mexico

When we first arrived in Pátzcuaro, Michoacán, a little over three years ago, a new Mexican friend commented, "There are many levels of Mexican culture, and each level is rich." Her words have stayed with me—illuminating my ability to 'see' and urging me on as I struggle to understand.

Reed and I have developed quite an attachment to the grand Montezuma Cypress trees that grow here in Coyoacán.  In an earlier Blog, I wrote about these trees—sacred in Mesoamerican culture and powerfully alive today in Mexican cultural consciousness.

So naturally this stately Montezuma Cypress tree growing in the middle of the street just around the corner from our new apartment caught my eye.  Its distinctive bark reminds me of the Redwoods in Northern California, my childhood home.

 Growing in a protected space in the middle of Escocia Street is a specimen of the
national tree of Mexico, the Montezuma Cypress (Taxodium mucronatum).

Only in Mexico, I thought, would they protect the tree by requiring traffic to make its way around it!  When I walked around the tree, I came upon this shrine.

The Virgin of Guadalupe, Mother of Mexico,
at the foot of the Cross bearing her Suffering Son.
The pole at the top holds a light bulb for night-time illumination. 

My first reaction was, "What on earth?" followed quickly by the questions, "What, and why?" 

The shrine invites investigation precisely because it attaches the Virgin of Guadelupe to the ancient sacred tree.  Understanding why requires a little historical context.

Before the arrival of the Spanish, the ruling Aztecs (Mexica) did not require the people they conquered to renounce their gods or traditional customs. In fact, the Aztecs often incorporated the gods of those they conquered into a separate pantheon reserved for the gods of subject peoples.

The Spanish were different. Hernán Cortés and his men considered religious conversion to be one of their main tasks in the New World. In 1521 Roman Catholic priests accompanied Cortés and his army when they destroyed Tenochtitlán, capital city of the Aztecs.

Those first priests were followed closely by missionaries. As amazed as these men of the cloth were by the science, culture and religion of the indigenous peoples, they were equally horrified by some of their deities and ancient rites.

The Spanish offered Catholicism as the only true religion. They destroyed ancient temples and prohibited the practice of traditional rituals. In a final humiliation, the Spanish required the indigenous people to use the foundations and stones of the destroyed temples to construct Catholic churches.

Tonantzín: Manifestation of the Earth Mother

One of the temples destroyed during the early years was that of the goddess Tonantzin, located on Tepeyac Hill. Tonantzin is believed to be a manifestation of the Earth Mother, known as Coatlicue, the mother of all living things, who was conceived by immaculate and miraculous means. She was also the one to decide the length of life. To the Mexica, the earth was both mother and tomb, the giver of life and the receiver of human remains as they decomposed to rejoin the Life Force.

This profound connection to the earth was brought home to me when my Purhépecha friend, in speaking of the death of her grandmother, announced, "Yo soy la tierra" (I am the earth). She then went on to say that as sad as she was to lose her beloved grandmother,

"I felt it was only right that the child return to the mother."

Tonantzín, or Little Mother, patron of childbirth, had a devout following. The Aztecs mourned their goddess and felt threatened and endangered by the profanation and razing of her temple by the Spaniards. This history sets the context for the appearance of the Virgin of Guadelupe to the Aztec peasant Juan Diego.

Juan Diego's Vision

According to tradition, on December 9, 1531, ten years after the fall of Tenochtitlán, Juan Diego, a Náhuatl peasant who had been baptized, saw a vision of a young woman while he was on the hill of Tepeyac near Mexico City. Juan Diego went to the Archbishop, Fray Juan de Zumárraga, to tell him of his vision. The archbishop asked for miraculous proof.

Three days later Juan Diego returned to the hill. The Virgin appeared again and, in Náhuatl, told Juan Diego to gather some flowers from the top of Tepeyac Hill. It was winter when no flowers bloomed, but on the hilltop Diego found flowers (traditionally, they are roses), and the Virgin herself arranged them in his tilma, or peasant cloak.

When Juan Diego opened the cloak before the Archbishop on December 12, the flowers fell to the floor, and in their place was the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe, miraculously imprinted on the fabric.

This depiction of the Virgin of Guadalupe is on permanent display in the
Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe (Mexico City)—the most-visited pilgrimage
site in the Western Hemisphere. The Virgin stands on the half-moon,
which represents the female principle in Mesoamerican cosmology. The cherub
below the moon is widely believed to be Saint Michael, patron saint of Mexico.

The Virgin of Tepeyac, as she is also known, is morena (brown-skinned) and spoke to Juan Diego in Náhuatl. Numerous scholars have pointed out the similarities in sound and attributes between Guadalupe and Coatlicue. It is also thought that the Spanish Bishop may have given her a more familiar name. Supporting this hypothesis is a shrine to Our Lady of Guadalupe near the Guadalupe mountains in Extremadura, Spain—native land of many of the Spanish soldiers and missionaries.

According to Friar Bernardo de Sahagún, one of the main Spanish missionaries and historians of the period, the indigenous continued to call her Tonantzín until around 1560, when the Spaniards baptized her with the sole name of Guadalupe.

Virgin of Guadalupe Embraces All of Mexico

A Mexican friend relayed an intriguing legend: it is thought that when the indigenous artisans carved the statue of the Virgin of Guadalupe, they embedded within the wood-carved figure, a caña de maís (corn paste) figure of the ancient goddess. So, queried my friend,

"The question is, 'when the indigenous people kneel in prayer to the Virgin, are they praying to Mary or to the ancient goddess'?"

This legend gives insight into how it might have happened that Spanish Catholic images and beliefs were, in many instances, laid over ancient indigenous beliefs. In this sense, it can be said that colonial art embodies the syncretism that resulted from this process.

Just before we moved to Mexico, Reed and I visited an exhibition of Catholic vestments and religious objects made by indigenous artisans throughout the Spanish colonies during the colonial period. Their interpretations of Spanish Catholic images and vestments using traditional materials and techniques were breathtakingly beautiful. A bishop's cloak and miter fashioned from bird feathers remains vivid in our minds.

This historical background deepens our understanding of the shrine to the Virgin of Guadalupe on the Montezuma Cypress near our apartment. The Virgin with her strong associations to the ancient goddess Tonantzin resting on the Montezuma Cypress, itself symbolic of the Life-Force that supported ancient Mesoamerican culture, is a powerful statement about the ongoing vitality of Mesoamerican culture in modern Mexico.

Without question, the widely-reported appearance of the Virgin of Guadalupe to the recently-baptized Náhuatl peasant Juan Diego was a powerful unifying factor between the Spanish-Catholic and pre-Hispanic strains. The conquered indigenous identified the dark Virgin who spoke in Náhuatl with the goddess Tonantzín and celebrated her with indigenous rites within the framework of the Catholic Church. This incident was perhaps the most important single event to hasten the conversion of the Mexican indigenous peoples to Catholicism.

Over time, however, the Virgin of Guadalupe was also embraced by the Spanish criollos (Spanish born in Nueva España—Mexico—rather than in Spain). The Virgin´s personal appearance on Mexican soil was seen as establishing a direct relationship between the land, the criollos and the Mother of God.

The Virgin had adopted the Mexican people (el pueblo) as her own; in turn, el pueblo adopted her as the Mother of Mexico. All of Mexico, el pueblo mexicano, could—and still does—adore her.