Last year, as providence would have it, I boarded a plane bound for Mexico City where I would make a private two-day pilgrimage to the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe. As I slid into my seat the reality of what I was doing hit me.
I was a woman alone, headed to one of the world’s largest cities where I did not speak the language and knew no one. What I knew of Mexico City was its high crime rate and its sprawling urban slums. So I asked myself why I was doing this.
If God is in us, then I certainly did not have to travel to a foreign and seemly dangerous city to have contact with God. As Saint Augustine wrote “it is not by journeying but by loving” that we draw closer to God; we approach Him “not by our feet but by our hearts.”
But that leaves unexplained the 10 million people who pilgrimage to Mexico City each year, and the millions of others who make pilgrimages throughout the world.
For centuries, pilgrims have trekked their way to sites of holy happenings, following that inner longing, that compulsion that pulls the human heart on a road less traveled, a road paved by the faithful and stained with tears shed in a journey of faith.
Long after Bernadette washed in a pool of water at Lourdes, people still come. Long after three Portuguese children started seeing the Blessed Virgin Mary at Fatima, people still come. Long after a peasant boy named Juan Diego revealed the image of Mary she left on his tilma (apron), people still come.
Mexico City is a modern city with ancient Mayan and Aztec roots. Among the towering skyscrapers and pyramids lies the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Though it has been more than 400 years since she appeared on the hilltop, people still come. They come by plane, by car, by bus and on foot. Sometimes they even come on their knees. Groups gather together to walk the last few miles to the shrine together, carrying banners and flowers in her honor and prayers and petitions in their hearts.
These simple acts of faith are what drew me to this holy site. To gather together with the faithful, to raise up a fervent prayer for Our Lady’s intercession.
Here in this modern circular basilica, above a grand altar hangs the holy tilma bearing the image of Our Lady named Guadalupe. Flowers line either side of the altar and are stacked several feet high; gifts of fruit and vegetables lay at the foot of the altar.
Outside a young man dances with the candles he is going to place before a statue of the Virgin Mary. Mothers are pinning ribbons beneath the statue with their prayers scrolled upon them, and a young father is crawling on his knees to the door of the basilica.
As Mass begins, young girls and boys process down the main aisle singing and performing traditional dances for Our Lady, while others balance on their heads ornate flowers arranged in the image of Mary. Small boys come dressed as Juan Diego, with painted mustaches; the girls don traditional dress, their long braids draped over their shoulders.
Here, like so many things in Mexico, the activities are about family, culture and faith, woven together in the fabric of life. Families have gathered for a weekend outing, coming from different corners of Mexico to be together, to celebrate, to relax and to thank God and the Blessed Mother for the life they have been given.
It is in these traditions and expressions of faith that I found the reason for my pilgrim journey. It is in our loving and in our hearts that we find God, but sometimes our human hearts need to walk in the foot steps of a stranger to grow in love. Though we often express ourselves and our faith differently, we as Catholics are all connected to each other. When our hearts grow closer to one another we grow closer to Him.
Written By Marylea Battaglia (originally published by “The Catholic Voice,” Diocese of Oakland)
