Brother Blue

If you don’t know the story of Our Lady of Guadalupe, please visit these sites for some quick background.
http://www.fact-index.com/o/ou/our_lady_of_guadalupe.html
http://www.wordiq.com/definition/Our_Lady_of_Guadalupe
http://www.queenofpeace.ca/The%20Story.htm
The Basilica itself is now in Mexico City (as the city has now grown around it). I don’t think there is any way to over state the importance of the apparition, the shrine, and Our Lady is to the Mexican people. It is part of what it means to be Mexican to have a devotion to Guadalupe, even for those that are nothing more than culturally Catholic. Families save for years and years so that the whole family can make the trip. Many church send pilgrims annually who walk all the way from their own church to the shrine (walks of many weeks long). There were a number of experiences that touched my heart the afternoon we spent at the basilica.
Misa (mass)
We knew that we were going to attend mass at the basilica, but other than that we really did have a plan. We figured that mass would be going on all day, and all we would have to do is show up. Little did we know that the Sunday we were there was some Aztec feast day. So not only did we get mass, but we got maaaaaass. All the smells bells. 15 bishops, a letter from the Pope, and a 45 minute homily about the history of the holiday and how now Our Lady figured in that. (that is all I understood in forty five minutes). The mass was in the newest of the four churches, finished in the early 70’s. I would be willing to bet the church seats about 3500. In addition to every seat being filled, every bit of standing room was filled as well. And I don’t just mean in the back, but everywhere. The aisles leading up to the front as well as all the space in fount of the pews was filled. Communion was impossible. If you didn’t happen to be near one of the ministers, you didn’t receive. They were trying to give communion through the end of the sending song, but still didn’t get to everyone who wanted to go.
Flowers
One of the traditions of the shrine is to bring flowers as an offering. Many, many families did this. Both sides of the alter were flanked by wall that ran to the edge of the room, and it seamed that every moment of mass someone was placing another bouquet on the wall. And they were huge. Every 15 minutes or some a member of the shrine staff would climb up on the wall and consolidate the flowers in a large pile. There was a small landing at the alter end of the wall. On this landing as the day passed more and more flowers were stacked. Imagine hundreds of full vases of flowers pilled high. The flowers where quickly organized as they were stack so that the pots and vases were not seen. It basically looked like a bouquet of flowers that was six feet high and more the fifteen feet in diameter. Beautiful!
Giving thanks
On the lowest part of the hill there are three churches. They line two sides of a large marble court yard. Long ways, I would guess it is about 70 yards long. Over the course of the hour that we spent there we saw numbers of men walking on there knees with new born babies in their arms. They were always flanked by their wives, who were walking along side of them, trying to herd the other children around. I would be willing to bet that it took more than 25 minutes to inch along from one end of the court year to the church at the other. They were doing this as an offering of thanks giving for their child, and the fact it had been bore healthy. It was a very touching scene.
Families
In the time we were there I would estimate that there were over 20,000 people there. That is just a guess and I wouldn’t be surprised if that was a conservative number. There were two things consistent about the crowds. One they were wholly Mexican (or at least Hispanic). The six of us were the only whites there the entire day. And we saw other tourist in Mexico, but none there. It showed once again how truly Mexican Guadalupe is. The other striking fact was about the crowd, almost everyone was there with their family. My mother made the comment, “There are more families here than at Disney World!” It was really cool. Families, with children of all ages, moving as a family unit. Obviously there is cost to travel, but being in that place, as family was obviously very important.
The tilma
I have always been one who has never really sought out miracles. It is not that I don’t believe in them. It is really quite the opposite, I expect them everywhere and when they come I am not very surprised. For better or worse I expect actual grace. It is just a (all be it wonderful) part of life. With that being said, it was amazing to be able to stand below Juan Diago’s tilma and see the results of a miracle. The tilma itself is made from the fibers of the maguey plant and does not last more than 25-40 years, yet after 469 years, the original tilma can still be found in perfect condition in the Basilica. Hundreds of years later, the Madonna is still emblazoned on the tilma. Just another moment that makes me take pause to realize how little I understand of the Super Natural and how He works in our world.
The Hill
There is a set of stone stairs that lead up the hill to a small church on the site where Mary appeared to Juan Diego. It is an odd trek for a pilgrim (as many modern pilgrimages must be). An odd mix of commerce, tourism and spiritual devotion. On the way up the hill there were groups of people laughing and taking photos (probably the best description of me), merchants with cheesy cardboard cut out of the Madonna, which you could get your picture taken with for about three dollars, and spiritual pilgrims (the group I probably should have been in). In some cases it was odd mix. There was a young woman (maybe 20) who was doing the stairs on her knees. She was with a group of friends who were walking beside her (one holding her hand). They were laughing and chatting away. We later saw her when she just stepped through the door of the church. She burst into tear and fell in to the arms of her friends in a group hug. Maybe in the end that was the best approach. A mix of friends and enjoying the day, while filling the time with super natural effort. I could see myself taking an experience like that too seriously, then the day didn’t meet my expectations, ending up frustrated.

I feel bad that I am just writing now. Writing in Mexico wasn’t an option. Well, I could have written everything long hand and retyped it. As much as that sounds like a good plan there is one flaw. No one can read my hand writing, not even me. It has gotten to the point that my hand writing is so bad that I can’t even duplicate it myself. At one point I was not able to cash a traveler’s check in Mexico because I could not match my own signature.
So now I am trying to recreate memories more than a week later. I know this is futile. There is no way that I am going to remember thing how they happened. Memory is much too malleable for that to happen. My hope is over the next few days is to share about the wonderful people and beautiful landscape that we encountered in our brief stay. As in all things, I know before I start, there is no way I am going to do Mexico (or it’s people) the justice it so richly deserves.
Today is nothing more than back ground information. The richness of our time will hopefully unfold over the next few days.
Mexico City
We all flew into Mexico City, is the largest city in the world. It has between 20 and 25 million people. Imagine more than 2 New York Cities spread out like LA. To fly in was just staggering. The city covers the equivalent of a 24 mile by 24 mile square. I would say that I had seen nothing like it, but that would be obvious because there is no other city like it. What was even more amazing than the city itself was driving in the city. It is like driving in LA, only it is much much bigger and drivers view traffic signals and traffic laws as nothing more than suggestions. More than once I saw drivers zip right through red lights, after only slowing down a little to insure they could beat the cross traffic. (Our own driver was not immune to trying such tactics.) During the day it would take more than three hours to drive north to south in the city.
Raúl
Our guide and driver was a man by the name of Raúl. He is in his 40’s and spoke wonderful English. When I say he speaks wonderful English, I mean he speaks English, in the way I wish I could speak Spanish. A few years ago, I would have called his English, poor at best. There were many times when his explanation only provided more confusion, not clarity, because of his language skills. But make no mistake, his English was way better than any of our Spanish, and our trip wouldn’t have gone nearly as smoothly if it wasn’t for the English he spoke. The more time I spent fighting to learn another language, the more impressed I get with those who are superior to me.
Raúl set the tone for the type and depth of hospitality we were going to receive. Over and over again he offered us everything he had, and did it with a smile and a laugh. As a job on the side he ahs been a clown for over twenty five years. You can’t do that not be a person briming with joy.
The six of us trickled in over the course of six hours. In that time Raúl made a few airport runs and began to acclimate us to the city. I could not image Mexico City with out him. (More will be written about him in the context of some of our adventures.)
Laveme
As we were walking to the car in the parking garage at the airport, we passes a Jeep with “Laveme” drawn in the dust of the back window. It means, “Wash me”. Something are the same no matter where you go.

Back home. Safe. Alive. Filled with stories. Many to come over the next week.

“We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.” Henry V (This would work, minus the fact our group is mostly female.)
Our small group is assembling at the Mexico City Airport tomorrow. I am looking forward to the fact that for the next week my job is to 1) play lots of tag and 2) have small Mexican children laugh at my poor Spanish. I don’t anticipate having access to the internet in the desert, so stories will have to wait until our return.
Please keep us and those we are blessed to serve in your prayers.

I saw the movie Before Sunset tonight. It stars Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy. It is 9 years later, after some movie which I did not see. It is a very well acted movie. After the first scene the whole movie is nothing more than the two of them walking around Paris talking, catching up on the past nine years and talking about life. It is one of those movies which you love, or would rather poke your eyes out with shrimp forks than watch. There is no middle ground on this one.
It is not reality (but that is not a movies job, to be reality). Off handedly and effortlessly they talk about the big questions of life. Much like the characters in a Douglas Coupland novel, they speak in a way I long to talk. (What is embarrassing, is the fact I am more envious of the cool way they construct language and argument than the actual point they make, which are very thoughtful.) One of the creative forces behind the movie is Richard Linklater. He is the mind behind the movie Waking Life, which explains a lot. It is a movie that I am going to have to own. I am almost tempted to sneak a tape recorded into the movie to record the dialog until it comes out on DVD. In less than an hour and a half they talk passionately and thoughtfully on topics big and small. There are very few relationship in my life in which I have talked on these topics with, much less than in one afternoon. (Again, it is movie, not reality.)
There are lots of things that stuck me in the movie. Most of which were replaced by something new that struck me a few moments later. I am almost afraid of explaining them. It is kinda like trying to explain a sunset or a dream. The word not only don’t do the experience justice, but some how the moment get cheapened by saying it out loud.
I loved her description of doing “good work”. She said once she realized that she needed to be an agent of change in the world (not her words) that she then needed to find something she could make better. It wasn’t a matter of saving the rain forest (something big), but instead finding something important that she could change. Be it local or global. Her job wasn’t to find the whole word (as the protagonist in the book How To Be Good tried to do), but to do what was possible in her plot of the world.
I loved his struggle with their first encounter. He understood (and she did as well, but it is his outward struggle in the movie) that it is possible that there are people that we meet and click with. Some how we find a home in them, with them. When we are young we think that many more of these relationships will come along. As time passes we understand more and more that those interactions, those people, exist in an extraordinary moment. As they are happening we understand they are extraordinary, but at the time really have no clue how extraordinary they really are. There is a wonderful struggle with how to reconcile current life with this moment in the past and what happens when the two collide.
Movie with 50 thoughtful points and those are the two that ring true. No coincidence I am sure.