miracles

The mysteries of Our Lady of Guadalupe: It's a story for researchers and childen

The mysteries of Our Lady of Guadalupe: It's a story for researchers and childen

The cloak worn by St. Juan Diego Cuauhtlatoatzin was made from rough cactus materials from central Mexico and it should have deteriorated after 15-30 years.

But this "tilma" remains intact and its mysterious image of the Virgin Mary has not faded since December 1531, when the indigenous peasant reported a series of Marian encounters. The framed cloak is displayed behind the high altar of the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe at the foot of Tepeyac Hill in Mexico City.

Scientists have studied the cloak for centuries. For starters, it's hard to describe the survival of this cactus-fiber cloak without using the word "miracle."

"We are dealing with mysterious events, but that doesn't mean they aren't real," said Vivian Dudro, a senior editor at Ignatius Press who helped produce a new edition of "The Lady of Guadalupe," a classic children's book by the late artist Tomie dePaola.

"All I know is that historians and scientists keep digging into the details of all this. Even with what we call 'legends,' you soon realize that there are real people involved in stories of this kind," she said, in a telephone interview. "The story of Our Lady of Guadalupe is best described as 'sacred history,' and pieces of this history continue to emerge to this day."

Year after year, Juan Diego's tilma is viewed by an estimated 20 million pilgrims, with more than 10 million visiting the basilica close to December 12 -- the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the patron saint of Mexico and the Americas. Around the world, throngs march in parades and sacred processions behind copies of this iconic Marian image.

While Our Lady of Guadalupe has played a central role in Mexico's tempestuous history, Pope Francis has stressed that this image should not be tethered to culture and politics. "The message of Guadalupe does not tolerate any ideology of any kind," he said, during last year's Vatican rites for the feast day. Instead, believers should focus on Mary's question to Juan Diego: "Am I not here, I, who am your mother?"

This is a key message, said Dudro, that children need to hear when parents and teachers introduce them to the story of Juan Diego, the Castilian roses he plucked -- following Mary's instructions -- from the frozen soil and, finally, the image of her that appeared on his cloak when the roses spilled out before the Franciscan bishop of Mexico.

Entering year 35 with 'On Religion' -- Demons, martyrs, violence, miracles in Colombia

Entering year 35 with 'On Religion' -- Demons, martyrs, violence, miracles in Colombia

In one of her first encounters with violence linked to the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC), Deann Alford heard, or felt, a bullet pass and slam into a door frame, with shrapnel striking a nearby woman and child.

The future journalist was both shocked and inspired by her contacts with Christians caught in that land's toxic climate of paramilitary warfare, narcotrafficking and kidnappings. She struggled to grasp how someone like pilot Russell Martin Stendal, after years held for ransom, could forgive his kidnappers and then start a missionary effort to convert them.

"Without his months as their hostage, I'm convinced he never could have reached the FARC," wrote Alford, in "Victorious: The Impossible Path to Peace," her blunt memoir about religious freedom in Colombia.

Stendal, she added, "has forgiven all. But I have not. ... In my quarter-century as a journalist, I've written dozens of articles about Colombian guerrilla groups' crimes against Christians, ranging from extortion to murder. Many of these stories regard crimes of the FARC, typically threatening and abducting church workers, missionaries and pastors, extorting them with offers they could not refuse."

Eventually, Alford realized that it wasn't enough to cover Colombia with telephone calls, faxes and Internet connections. She would have to put "boots on the ground" and return. "But I didn't. I was afraid. No, that word is too mild. I was terrified. I let the risk of being killed and kidnapped keep me away."

Alford's bottom line: "I told the Lord I would go anywhere for him but Colombia."

But she returned and, over years of contacts, her fears mixed with frustration. After working in secular newsrooms, as well as Christian publications and wire services, she couldn't understand why more people -- journalists and religious leaders -- could not see the importance of the faith stories unfolding, decade after decade, in Colombia.

This is another example of an important theme woven into my work with this "On Religion" column, with this week marking the start of my 35th year. Simply stated, many journalists do not "get" religion, in terms of grasping the role faith plays in many important events and trends stories.

A lingering Theophany mystery: The 'holy water flowers' that refused to fade

A lingering Theophany mystery: The 'holy water flowers' that refused to fade

After the Christmas season and before Lent, Orthodox priests have -- for centuries -- rushed to visit church-members' homes to bless them with prayers and splashes of holy water flung about with a foot-long brush or handfuls of basil.

Droplets of blessed water end up on beds and bookshelves, TVs and toys, potted plants and paintings, along with everything else.

"It's a chance to start over," said Father John Karcher of St. Nicholas Orthodox Church in Portland, Oregon. "We clean out the cobwebs of sin. … Then we make mistakes and muck it all up again. But we do this every year because God doesn't give up on us."

These rites flow out of the Feast of Theophany, which many Orthodox churches in America celebrate on January 6, or on January 19th for those using the ancient Julian calendar year-round. In addition to house blessings and liturgies, Orthodox clergy bless bodies of water -- rivers, lakes and oceans. In some parts of the world this requires man-sized holes cut into ice.

The feast's central message, said Karcher, is that "when Christ was baptized, he went into the waters and the waters didn't cleanse him -- it was the other way around. He blessed the waters and through them all of creation. … It's a beautiful thing. God responds to our prayers that he sanctifies the waters -- again."

In one rite, priests pray that the blessed water will provide "a fountain of incorruption, a gift of sanctification, a loosing of sins, a healing of sicknesses, a destruction of demons" so that worshippers will experience "the cleansing of souls and bodies, for the healing of sufferings, for the sanctification of homes and for every useful purpose."

The mysterious nature of these rites hit home a decade ago when Karcher led St. Innocent Orthodox Church in the Bay Area in northern California.

Dick Cavett, Eric Metaxas talk miracles on Manhattan's Upper West Side

Long ago, back in Sunday school in Nebraska, something happened that changed how television talk legend Dick Cavett would think about faith forever.

When he was a boy, his mother got breast cancer. Then a "seemingly helpful old lady said, 'Dickey, if you pray your mother will get well,' and," he said with a long pause, "she didn't."

This anecdote was highly relevant, during a recent New York City forum, because Cavett was interviewing author Eric Metaxas about his new book, "Miracles: What They Are, Why They Happen, and How They Can Change Your Life."

In other words, young Cavett prayed for a miracle, it didn't happen and that certainly did shape his life.

"That didn't help either my attitude toward religion or helpful old ladies," he said, drawing sad laughter from the live audience during this "Socrates In The City" webcast. "I felt that I did it wrong, of course. I didn't do it right and I was partly responsible."

Metaxas, founder of the "Socrates" series, added: "Is this old lady still alive? Because I would like to give her a piece of my mind."