Friday, May 18, 2007 at 2:02am
God's challenging revelation in history
Column: God Said What?
God works in mysterious ways.
Of course, that's a cliché these days. We've all heard it before hundreds of times. Yet for that very reason it's good to be reminded that this isn't just a nice saying but is the reality of our lives of faith.
God's ways are different from ours. They are wholly other. As the prophet Isaiah describes it in God's own voice, "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord. As high as the heavens are above the earth, so high are my ways above your ways and my thoughts above your thoughts" (Isaiah 55:8-9).
Through God's self-communication in human history that challenges our mindsets and lifestyles we are called to repent, or to rethink the way that we are currently living our lives and to return home to serving the God of Life.
When we receive God's self-communication, we realize that God doesn't work in the ways that we expect. But God's unexpected and surprising actions become a more powerful indictment of how easily we put our own interests above the purposes of God.
And the story of Our Lady of Guadalupe is a good example of God's unexpected action in the world.
As the tradition goes, in December 1531 la Virgen morena appeared on a hillside outside what is now Mexico City to Juan Diego, a poor indigenous man.
This was during the time in which the Spanish were violently conquering Mexico and were bringing mass death and disease in their wake. The Spanish colonizers had conquered Mexico and mostly destroyed the indigenous people by this point. The remnants of the native peoples were suffering and in despair.
Into this context the Virgin Mary appeared as a brown-skinned woman of the Americas not to a lofty, European bishop but to a lowly, indigenous peasant. She spoke to Juan Diego, a member of the Nahua people, in his own language, and the Blessed Mother was dressed in clothes that displayed a mixture of Christian and Nahua religious symbols. And she appeared to him on the hill of Tepeyac that was known to the Nahuas as the location where they worshiped their mother goddess, Tonantzin.
In this manner the Blessed Mother appeared to Juan Diego several times and, as theologian Roberto Goizueta puts it, "repeatedly assures him that, despite his own sense of worthlessness vis-à-vis the Spaniards, he is her most beloved, favored child."
She comforts him and asks him to go to the Spanish bishop in Mexico City to request that a church be built on this hill of Tepeyac. When Juan Diego first arrived at the palace of the bishop in Mexico City, the bishop would not even meet with him.
In response the Blessed Mother gave Juan Diego a sign to take with him as he tried again: a bouquet of flowers that could not be grown at that time of year. Juan Diego then returned to the bishop's palace and opened his cloak to reveal the flowers. Only as he does this a second sign appeared imprinted on his cloak: the image of the Blessed Mother. Humbled by these signs and by his own arrogance, the Spanish bishop conceded and agreed to the Blessed Mother's request.
As Goizueta further observes, the traditional roles of the historical period are reversed in this story. "The dark-skinned Lady and the indigenous man themselves become the messengers of God, evangelizers to the Spanish Catholic bishop, who is portrayed as the one in need of conversion." In modern terms the oppressed become God's privileged bearers of revelation, whereas the powerful, especially in the Church, are called to repentance.
This is an amazing story. It's a small story of hope in the larger story of unwarranted suffering that was inflicted upon the people of the Americas by the European Christian conquerors.
It doesn't offer any easy answers and historically didn't halt the violence. But this story does offer a seed of divine hope that there can be a different future and that God has not abandoned the poor and the oppressed. In the darkest situation of suffering God is already there and working among the people who have been violated. Moreover, God has not abandoned the powerful and the victimizers either and calls them to repent of their sins against the indigenous peoples and to honestly pursue reconciliation and new life.
This is the work of the God of Jesus Christ whom we Christians profess as our Lord and Savior. The God who intends to be intimately close, who will bear us in our suffering and whose heart burns for justice and reconciliation in situations of great evil.
Maybe we sophisticated ones think this is just a story. But I would argue that in Christian life there are few reflections of God that are "just" anything. So I would say that this story is a revelation of the heart of God for the world. And it's a judgment upon our attempts to limit God's activity for our own benefit.
For God does indeed work in mysterious ways. And God's actions in history, like God's self-revelation in the person of Jesus Christ, can deconstruct our previous understandings of God. Especially in the stories that we honor that carry these divine revelations.
Our Lady of Guadalupe reminds us that God will not be limited. As shown through the faith of Juan Diego, God will not be deterred in breaking into history for the benefit of the poor, the marginalized and the oppressed. And as shown by the conversion of the Spanish bishop, God will not rest until even the powerful are converted to serving the God of Life.
So maybe God does work in mysterious ways. And maybe we often aren't looking for God with the right intentions. Either way, we should be humbled by the revelation of Our Lady of Guadalupe and the faith of Juan Diego.
— — —
Kevin Considine is a graduate student at Catholic Theological Union in Chicago. Recently, he was married to a most wonderful woman who keeps him in line and reads his columns to see if they make sense. He and his wife live on the South Side of Chicago. He welcomes comments, feedback or fits of anger and can be reached at {email considkp@yahoo.com}considkp@yahoo.com{/email}. © copyright 2007 by Kevin Considine.
Of course, that's a cliché these days. We've all heard it before hundreds of times. Yet for that very reason it's good to be reminded that this isn't just a nice saying but is the reality of our lives of faith.
God's ways are different from ours. They are wholly other. As the prophet Isaiah describes it in God's own voice, "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord. As high as the heavens are above the earth, so high are my ways above your ways and my thoughts above your thoughts" (Isaiah 55:8-9).
Through God's self-communication in human history that challenges our mindsets and lifestyles we are called to repent, or to rethink the way that we are currently living our lives and to return home to serving the God of Life.
When we receive God's self-communication, we realize that God doesn't work in the ways that we expect. But God's unexpected and surprising actions become a more powerful indictment of how easily we put our own interests above the purposes of God.
And the story of Our Lady of Guadalupe is a good example of God's unexpected action in the world.
As the tradition goes, in December 1531 la Virgen morena appeared on a hillside outside what is now Mexico City to Juan Diego, a poor indigenous man.
This was during the time in which the Spanish were violently conquering Mexico and were bringing mass death and disease in their wake. The Spanish colonizers had conquered Mexico and mostly destroyed the indigenous people by this point. The remnants of the native peoples were suffering and in despair.
Into this context the Virgin Mary appeared as a brown-skinned woman of the Americas not to a lofty, European bishop but to a lowly, indigenous peasant. She spoke to Juan Diego, a member of the Nahua people, in his own language, and the Blessed Mother was dressed in clothes that displayed a mixture of Christian and Nahua religious symbols. And she appeared to him on the hill of Tepeyac that was known to the Nahuas as the location where they worshiped their mother goddess, Tonantzin.
In this manner the Blessed Mother appeared to Juan Diego several times and, as theologian Roberto Goizueta puts it, "repeatedly assures him that, despite his own sense of worthlessness vis-à-vis the Spaniards, he is her most beloved, favored child."
She comforts him and asks him to go to the Spanish bishop in Mexico City to request that a church be built on this hill of Tepeyac. When Juan Diego first arrived at the palace of the bishop in Mexico City, the bishop would not even meet with him.
In response the Blessed Mother gave Juan Diego a sign to take with him as he tried again: a bouquet of flowers that could not be grown at that time of year. Juan Diego then returned to the bishop's palace and opened his cloak to reveal the flowers. Only as he does this a second sign appeared imprinted on his cloak: the image of the Blessed Mother. Humbled by these signs and by his own arrogance, the Spanish bishop conceded and agreed to the Blessed Mother's request.
As Goizueta further observes, the traditional roles of the historical period are reversed in this story. "The dark-skinned Lady and the indigenous man themselves become the messengers of God, evangelizers to the Spanish Catholic bishop, who is portrayed as the one in need of conversion." In modern terms the oppressed become God's privileged bearers of revelation, whereas the powerful, especially in the Church, are called to repentance.
This is an amazing story. It's a small story of hope in the larger story of unwarranted suffering that was inflicted upon the people of the Americas by the European Christian conquerors.
It doesn't offer any easy answers and historically didn't halt the violence. But this story does offer a seed of divine hope that there can be a different future and that God has not abandoned the poor and the oppressed. In the darkest situation of suffering God is already there and working among the people who have been violated. Moreover, God has not abandoned the powerful and the victimizers either and calls them to repent of their sins against the indigenous peoples and to honestly pursue reconciliation and new life.
This is the work of the God of Jesus Christ whom we Christians profess as our Lord and Savior. The God who intends to be intimately close, who will bear us in our suffering and whose heart burns for justice and reconciliation in situations of great evil.
Maybe we sophisticated ones think this is just a story. But I would argue that in Christian life there are few reflections of God that are "just" anything. So I would say that this story is a revelation of the heart of God for the world. And it's a judgment upon our attempts to limit God's activity for our own benefit.
For God does indeed work in mysterious ways. And God's actions in history, like God's self-revelation in the person of Jesus Christ, can deconstruct our previous understandings of God. Especially in the stories that we honor that carry these divine revelations.
Our Lady of Guadalupe reminds us that God will not be limited. As shown through the faith of Juan Diego, God will not be deterred in breaking into history for the benefit of the poor, the marginalized and the oppressed. And as shown by the conversion of the Spanish bishop, God will not rest until even the powerful are converted to serving the God of Life.
So maybe God does work in mysterious ways. And maybe we often aren't looking for God with the right intentions. Either way, we should be humbled by the revelation of Our Lady of Guadalupe and the faith of Juan Diego.
— — —
Kevin Considine is a graduate student at Catholic Theological Union in Chicago. Recently, he was married to a most wonderful woman who keeps him in line and reads his columns to see if they make sense. He and his wife live on the South Side of Chicago. He welcomes comments, feedback or fits of anger and can be reached at {email considkp@yahoo.com}considkp@yahoo.com{/email}. © copyright 2007 by Kevin Considine.