Why Our Lady of Guadalupe Matters: The Hidden History of Christianity in America

Archbishop Salvatore J. Cordileone

COMMENTARY: Through this revelation, Mary gave birth to a new people.

To survive and flourish, every great civilization needs to cherish the story of its origin.

It is good, then, that plans are taking shape to celebrate next year’s 250th anniversary of our nation’s founding document, the Declaration of Independence. But a country as great as America has more than one origin story to tell.

This Dec. 12, millions of Hispanics will celebrate the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe as part of their own origin story as Americans. The year 2031 will mark the 500th anniversary of her appearance, and to make more of us English-speaking Americans aware of the role of Our Lady of Guadalupe in our own history, I recently launched a new initiative, “Project Guadalupe 2031.”

Here’s the basic story: Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ, appeared to a humble laborer by the name of Juan Diego in 1531, leaving her image miraculously emblazoned on the rough cactus fiber of his tilma. The Guadalupe event, as historians call it, sparked a massive wave of conversions in “New Spain,” which then stretched both south and north from Mexico all the way up to the San Francisco Bay Area. This was almost a century before the famous landing of the Pilgrims on Plymouth Rock. So, for all Christians, Dec. 12, 2031, may be celebrated as the 500th anniversary of the birthday of Christianity in America.

But even non-Christians and nonbelievers have reason to celebrate the miracle of Our Lady of Guadalupe because the broader message is one of racial and social reconciliation and unity. While our country is roiled in controversy and angst over an immigration crisis seemingly out of control and the ill treatment of so many immigrants here without proper documentation, one thing becomes clear if we step back from today’s moment to take the larger view: The influx of millions of Mexican and Central and South Americans into the United States who have become productive, law-abiding, patriotic members of this country is a historic assimilation success story. This success was made far easier because these newcomers from south of the border arrived already sharing the backbone values of Judeo-Christian culture. For that fact, all Americans — Northern, Central and Southern — have (under the grace of God) Our Lady of Guadalupe to thank.

Before the Guadalupe event, few Native people seemed interested in the Gospel, and no wonder: Spanish soldiers had arrived as conquistadors, precipitating a clash between two ancient and proud cultures. The usual result of such pivotal historic encounters is conquest by the more powerful, while the subjugated people try to maintain their customs and culture in hidden ways. But miracle of miracles, this was not the story of Mexico.

After the Guadalupe event, Native people uninterested in Christ suddenly flocked by the millions to be baptized. Our Lady of Guadalupe bridged an ocean, uniting Europeans and Indigenous Americans.

How? Why? What did the Aztec people see when they looked at the image on Juan Diego’s tilma?

Definitely not a Spanish conquistadora. Our Lady of Guadalupe was one of their own, la Morenita (“the little dark one”), who spoke their language. Aztec culture relied on pictographs, and the Indigenous people read the image on the tilma like a book. The beautiful woman wore the turquoise cloak reserved to gods and the royal family, but she was obviously more than a princess.

The Aztec religion considered the sun, moon and stars divine. Yet the stars decorate this woman’s mantle; she is more prominent than the sun, and she stands on the crescent moon. However, her exalted head is bowed, and her hands are folded in humble supplication: She worships one more powerful than herself. Who could this be?

The Aztecs noticed the dark band of maternity worn by women carrying a child. Her brooch is a cross. This illustrious yet humble woman is the mother of the Son of the one true God; her roses seemed to them the fulfillment of their ancient “flower world” prophecy, giving them access to a world of perfect and lasting happiness and peace. Through this image on the tilma of Our Lady of Guadalupe, God spoke to the Native people of the region.

But there is more: Her image presented a message for the Spaniards, too. It portrayed Mary as the Immaculate Conception, whose honor Spain had championed in theological debate and whose beauty her greatest artists had long celebrated. Through Our Lady of Guadalupe, God joined together two cultures, not by conquest but by the power of Christ and his Gospel.

On Oct. 7, I traveled to Our Lady of Guadalupe’s shrine in Mexico, to the very spot of the apparition, with a 60-voice U.S. festival choir, in order to celebrate Frank La Rocca’s Mass of the Americas, which I had commissioned previously. The Mass of the Americas is also a bridge between two worlds. It honors Mary as both Our Lady of Guadalupe (patroness of Mexico and all the Americas) and Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception (championed by the Spanish and whom Catholics in the United States look to as the patroness of our own country). It elevates the popular Mexican Guadalupe hymns into the Church’s high sacred-music tradition. And I found on that holy ground that this music spoke to the thousands of Mexicans present as strongly as it has to Catholics in the United States.

Sacred beauty has that effect: It unites hearts. As Arturo Rocha, director at the shrine’s College of Guadalupe Studies, told us, “I have been to hundreds of Masses here, including great Masses with orchestras for visiting dignitaries, but never have I ever heard such beauty in this place.” Since then, Mexican bishops who have heard about this Mass have asked me for the score.

Meanwhile, north of the border, new celebrations of the Mass of the Americas continue, including this Dec. 12 with Bishop Edward Burns celebrating the Mass at Dallas’ National Shrine Cathedral of Our Lady of Guadalupe and Bishop James Conley celebrating it as his cathedral in Lincoln, Nebraska.

The way the Mass of the Americas touches hearts across borders, cultures and languages is proof. Yes, 1776 is indeed something to celebrate, but so, too, is 1531. Through this revelation, Mary gave birth to a new people, whose roots were deeply planted in very different cultures. They were united not in the blood of human sacrifices offered on the Aztec altars, nor in the blood shed by the conquistadors, but in the blood of Jesus Christ.