BY FATHER SEVERINO LOPEZ, CMF

On a blistering hot summer day, I knelt before a picture of Our Lady of Guadalupe. This painting had been placed above the main altar of a church in Chicago in a predominantly Mexican neighborhood. In a few hours I, a youngster of 13, would be boarding the Sante Fe train with three companions. We would be heading for southern California and the Claretian seminary, where we would begin our seminary training.

My dad prayed aloud in a vibrant and sonorous voice. He was greatly devoted to the Eucharist, being a daily communicant, but on this occasion he spoke to La Virgen de Guadalupe. He said, "Virgencita, here is my son. Thirteen years ago you gave him to me. I am now offering him to you. Take care of him and help him along the way that he has chosen."

In retrospect, I now see that Our Lady of Guadalupe did answer my father's prayer. I returned 12 years later to that same church and celebrated my first Mass. In time, I was appointed as its pastor and recently celebrated the 50th anniversary of my ordination at Our Lady of Guadalupe Church in Chicago.

I have often been asked, humorously, by my friends, "What's going on between you Mexicans and the Virgin of Guadalupe?" A legitimate question, I would say. I myself would continue to ask, "What inspired a father to break out in a sincere, audible prayer, offering his son to the Virgin and asking her to protect him." Indeed, what inspired the Cura Hidalgo to choose the picture of Our Lady of Guadalupe as his banner when he launched the movement toward independence in Mexico? What inspired Cesar Chavez to rise in defense of the exploited grape workers in California with nothing to distribute to his supporters but a few pictures of La Virgencita? What inspires many a Mexican peasant to leave his country, in search of a better life, with nothing but a few belongings and a picture of Our Lady of Guadalupe?

Some would attribute it to so-called popular religiosity. Robert E. Wright, OMI, however, defines popular religiosity as something that "pertains to marginal groups, is of their own creation, and goes against what is normative in church and society." A Mexican's devotion to Our Lady of Guadalupe not only does not fit this definition but is solidly supported by the Church's teachings, especially that of Revelation.

Subordinate to Revelation is private revelation: messages entrusted to persons who experience apparitions, sense perceptible visions or appearances of Christ, the Blessed Virgin, angels or saints. The authenticity of apparitions is a matter for investigation and evaluation by the Church and its approval is always required when a popular cult arises.

The Spaniards came to Mexico. Their arrival was followed by war, pestilence and ruin. They did bring the faith, and after the conquest, they tried to instill belief in Jesus Christ and His Mother Mary. Progress, however, was arduous.

On a cold December morn, a young Indian maiden appeared to Juan Diego on a barren hill outside of Mexico City. She described herself as the Mother of God, the one who crushed the head of the serpent, "Gua-a-lupeu," and expressed her wish that a church be built on that spot.

It took three apparitions, an extraordinary growth of roses on a barren hill, and a miraculous imprint of the Virgin's image on the Indian's cloak to convince the incredulous clergy and a doubting bishop that this, indeed, was the Mother of God. The Church has since then, on many occasions, approved and given its blessing to the faithful's devotion to La Guadalupana. Thus began the love affair between the Virgin and the Mexican people.

The Guadalupe apparitions played an important role in the Christianizing of Mexico. Its people desire to show God that they love Him by going all out in expressing their love for His Mother.

There is a humorous but poignant story that circulates in Mexico each year, especially at the beginning of December. Translated into English, it goes something like this: Napoleon Bonaparte, in his eagerness to conquer the whole world, went up to heaven and asked Jesus for permission to establish his kingdom in Mexico, "Y Cristo le respondió: En ese no mando yo. Es el reino de mi madre." Which means: "Nap, old chap, let me give you a piece of advice. Don't mess with Mexico. That's my Mother's territory!"

Father Lopez is a parochial vicar at Corpus Christi Church, Stone Mountain.