Mary and the 'Talking Eagle'

By Jim Davis - Florida Catholic

Photography: Jim Davis

DORAL | You no doubt know Our Lady of Guadalupe. But how about Cuauhtlatoatzin?

Actually, you know him, too. He's St. Juan Diego, an Aztec Christian to whom she appeared. Cuauhtlatoatzin, or “Talking Eagle,” took his Christian name after his baptism by a Franciscan missionary.

Appearing as a woman of color, Our Lady of Guadalupe is the patron not only of Mexico but all the Americas. Her feast day falls on Dec. 12.

As the story goes, Juan Diego was on his way to Mass in 1531 when he passed by Tepeyac Hill, on the outskirts of Mexico City. He heard birds singing, then a sweet voice calling him. He then saw a glowing figure on the hill, who identified herself as “the Virgin Mary, Mother of the True God.”

She told Juan Diego she wanted a chapel on that spot to “show and offer all of my love, my compassion, my help and my protection to the people.”

His bishop, Juan Zumárraga, was understandably skeptical and asked for a sign to prove Juan Diego’s story. It took three more Marian apparitions before Juan Diego convinced him – with flowers.

On Dec. 12, he returned to the bishop and opened his tilma, or cloak. Out tumbled Castilian roses that he'd collected on Tepeyac Hill – although it was winter and the roses didn’t grow in central Mexico.

Even more striking was the image on the tilma: a detailed, color picture of Mary as she had appeared to Juan Diego. Bishop Zumárraga sank to his knees, then ordered the chapel to be built.

Juan Diego moved to a small house nearby and lived for another 17 years, caring for the church and greeting pilgrims. St. Pope John Paul II declared him a saint in 2002.

The basilica is the site of annual novenas and festivals, with more than two million people attending solemn Mass. Fireworks and fiestas also mark the day.

Diego’s tilma remains on display, still bright and whole. The cloak is made of cactus fibers, which commonly disintegrate after about 30 years, yet it’s still intact after nearly five centuries.

Mary’s image is a statement in itself. The Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe in La Crosse, Wisconsin, even calls it a “codex,” a symbolic picture with a meaning in every element.

On the tilma, Mary appears as a prayerful young mestiza, with a blend of European and indigenous features. She is dressed as an Aztec queen, with fur cuffs and a blue-green mantle.

The mantle is covered with gold stars, while her tunic is a ruddy earth tone. At the center of her tunic is a four-petaled jasmine flower, an Aztec symbol of the cosmic order. She is thus presented as a denizen of both heaven and earth.

Mary stands in a golden aura, hinting at the verse in the Bible about a woman “clothed with the sun” and with the moon at her feet. In Aztec terms, she's eclipsing the sun god Huitzilopochtli.

The moon at Mary’s feet is seen as a defeat of Quetzalcoatl, the feathered serpent and moon god of Aztec religion. Her head, however, is bowed and her hands are clasped in prayer, indicating that she herself is not a deity. Instead, her hands point to a cross on her brooch, directing attention to Jesus.

Our Lady’s sash sits above her stomach, showing she is pregnant. A Vatican document says the sash indicates that Christ is about to be “born” again among indigenous peoples of the New World.

The image therefore spoke powerfully to Mexico’s indigenous people. Within seven years of the apparition, millions of them were reportedly converted.

Since then, Our Lady of Guadalupe has grown as symbol of culture and heritage. Her very complexion – dark-skinned, dark-eyed, dark-haired – is a point of pride for Mexicans, who nicknamed her La Virgen Morena, “The Brown Virgin.”

She was invoked by 18th century nationalist Emiliano Zapata and rebel fighters in the early 20th century. Her banner flew over farmworkers in the U.S. as they fought for their rights in the 1970s. And she's often used as an emblem for pro-life activists today.

Guadalupe murals grace buildings in several cities, including an outdoor market in Los Angeles, taquerias in Chicago, a homeless shelter in the Bronx. In San Antonio, a cylindrical sculpture of Our Lady, 20 feet tall, resembles a giant votive candle.

Her image looms large as well in South Florida, where her namesake church has her image on an outside wall. Towering 26 feet high, the mosaic can be seen from Florida’s Turnpike.

As you drive onto the grounds, Juan Diego’s statue greets you, spilling roses out of his tilma. Further in, the Guadalupe image appears as an Italian marble statue. Underneath the statue is a stone from Tepeyac Hill.

Stretching 410 feet between the statue and the church is the Way of the Cross, inspired by the Calzada de Guadalupe in Mexico City. The walkway is lined with 28 porcelain pictures of Mary.

The church itself has two large windows of the Guadalupe story: One of Mary giving Juan Diego his cloakful of roses, the other of him showing the roses to his amazed bishop.

Even other windows at the church are dappled with rosy images. One shows Jesus stepping out of his tomb, with angels showering roses onto him and sowing them before him.

The need for a parish in Doral was evident when it was established in 2001. The congregation quickly grew to more than 3,000 families from 44 countries.

An elementary school hosted worship until December 2015, when it moved into its permanent home. The parish now numbers 10,689 families.

They sing a welcoming song every Mass and give visitors a card bearing the Guadalupe image. During the feast of its patroness on Dec. 12, families often attend in attire from their homelands, especially Mexico.

The members work a variety of ministries, including Bible studies, Scouting groups, a children's rosary group, a Respect Life chapter, Emmaus and marriage retreats, and ministries to teens and young adults.

They also reach out beyond the walls. A chapter of the St. Vincent De Paul Society distributes food, clothes and toys for immigrant parishioners.