Today I had the distinct privilege of attending midday Mass for the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Even before my conversion to Catholicism, I found the Guadalupe image to be a warm, lovely and believable representation of the Blessed Mother. She looks like someone who could experience great joys and great sorrows. She looks real. She could be Aztec or Jewish or any other number of actual ethnicities other than porcelain doll. I just don’t see that in the Lourdes or Fatima images, to name a couple other popular ones – meaning no disrespect to the apparitions or messages.

The fact that La Guadalupana appeared in a mountainous corner of the western hemisphere is one that draws my attention. Her gentleness – even when St. Juan Diego was avoiding her and asking for a sign – is not only attractive, but a compelling sign of authenticity. The double sign (the ephemeral roses at Tepeyac contrasted with the enduring image on the tilma that so surprised St. Juan Diego when he first saw it) is a wonderfully poetic and profound touch.

Her appearance to a society that practiced widespread human sacrifice – and the rapid abandonment of that grisly practice immediately thereafter, gives hope even today and even here. Her role in the large-scale conversion of what had been a vehemently anti-Christian society gives hope too.

There were more people than are usual at a midday Mass, but not as many as I’d have hoped for our continental patron. Kudos to the good father for mentioning the human sacrifice issue as it affected 16th century Mexico and 21st century America.