Monday, December 20, 2010

A Presbyterian family celebrates the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe


from Huffington Post by Ben Daniel, a Presbyterian Minister and Author...

In my family we have a new holiday tradition. On the evening of Dec. 11 we go across the street to the neighborhood Catholic church -- called "Our Lady of Guadalupe" -- to celebrate the feast of the patron saint of Mexico, the same Lady of Guadalupe for whom the church is named.

The annual celebration of Guadalupe is quite an event. All night long pilgrims bring flowers into the church -- some of the faithful are dressed in Aztec garb, some are dressed like campesinos. They dance through the nave and up to the altar, remembering, as they do, the miracle of Guadalupe, when, in 1519, the Virgin appeared outside of Mexico City in the form of an indigenous girl, speaking the Nuahatl language to an indigenous man, named Juan Diego Cuauhtlatoatzin. St. Juan Diego -- for now he is a saint -- proved the apparition of the Blessed Virgin by bringing the bishop heaven-sent roses which he had wrapped in his serape. When he presented the flowers, a miraculous image of Mary was left behind on the serape.

The presentation of flowers at the festival lasts into the wee hours of the morning, when, at sunrise, the faithful gather for a mass that concludes with the congregation singing "Las MaƱanitas", the traditional Mexican birthday song, to Our Lady.

Outside the church it's an all-night festival. Aztec dancers move their bodies to the pounding beat of drums. Mariachis perform. There is an outdoor shrine with candles lit not just to the Virgin of Guadalupe but also to lesser folk saints such as Santa Muerte, Jesus Malverde, and Toribio Romo.

Vendors sell everything from rosary beads to Dora the Explorer blankets, and the food -- my God -- the food is heavenly.

We've lived in this neighborhood for several years, and for most of those years I've joined in the celebration of Guadalupe alone -- slipping away after the kids were in bed -- but now that our children are old enough to stay up a little past their bedtime, we make an outing of it. We watch the dancers as we eat tacos and tamales and sip thick, hot champurrado, a traditional Mexican beverage made of sweetened cornmeal and seasoned with cinnamon and vanilla.

Usually the kids pick up some cheap toys, and this year, in addition, the family purchased a marvelous piece of awful religious "art" -- an image of the Virgin of Guadalupe holding Pope John Paul II to her breast as the late pontiff kisses the palm of her hand. "Eewww! She's nursing him", my nine-year-old daughter observed. My impressions (which I kept to myself) were slightly less innocent, but we all agreed that we needed to buy the picture for a Catholic priest friend of ours who finds humor in such items.

I cannot wait for the celebration to happen again next year.

The feast of Guadalupe is a distinctly Mexican holiday, and it may be worth asking why my family celebrates the holiday when none of us were born in Mexico or have Mexican ancestors.

The answer is this: we celebrate the feast of Guadalupe because it is a beautiful thing to do and because it is an American thing to do.

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