Our Lady of Cobre is considered the mother of Cuban people regardless of their race, political allegiance, or ideology. She is so entrenched in the Cuban national identity that she is virtually the only unifying force between those in exile and those who remained on the island. Though Cuba has been officially declared an atheist country by its government, it allowed four Catholic masses to be said at the major cathedrals in honor of Our Lady of Cobre to commemorate a papal visit in January 1998. The first masses that took place in the middle of the country drew a respectful but reticent response. By the time the fourth mass was said in Havana, the sight of millions of joyful, chanting devotees singing and dancing in the streets so shocked the ruling powers that they agreed to loosen the laws suppressing religious feasts and celebrations in all houses of worship. To many it was proof that the Virgin Mary is far more powerful than any government.
The story of Our Lady of Cobre took place in 1606. Two brothers of Indian lineage, Rodrigo and Juan de Hoyos, and a ten-year-old African slave named Juan Moreno took a canoe out off the coast of Santiago del Prado. This was an area newly rich in copper mines, the name of which has since been changed to Cobre, cobre being the Spanish word for “copper.” The boys were out to gather salt to preserve meat for the copper miners. Halfway across the Bay of Nipe they had to encamp on an islet because a violent storm had blown up. They waited through a harrowing night, the storm ending at daybreak. When the sea calmed the boys again set out on their task.
Almost immediately they saw a white bundle on a plank floating on the waves, approaching them. At first they thought it was a seabird, but as it neared them it appeared to be a little girl. Gradually they realized it was a statue of the Virgin Mary holding the Christ child. Much to their amazement the statue was completely dry. Inscribed on the plank were the words: “Yo soy la Virgen de la Caridad” (I am the Virgin of Charity).
The boys carried the statue back to the town, where its arrival was recognized as a message from the Virgin Mary. A shrine was constructed,and it immediately became a pilgrimage site. The statue is now in its own sanctuary known as Nuestra Senora del la Caridad de Cobre Basilica in Santiago de Cuba.
The statue of Our Lady of Cobre is about sixteen inches high. Artistic depictions of it vary. The statue in the basilica is a mixed-race Mary. Though her original robes were white, she now wears heavily brocaded golden robes with gold and silver embroidery containing Cuba’s national shield. The stiffness of this fabric gives the statue its triangular shape. Our Lady of Charity is a common figure found in Spanish hospitals, and it was thought that this statue could have originally come from a Spanish ship headed for Cuba. In later retellings of the story, the three men in the boat became the “three Juans,” one European, one Taino Indian, and the third one African, who, caught out in a storm, prayed to the Virgin to save them. Miraculously, the sea calmed and the little statue floated to them out of nowhere. In art they are shown rowing in a rough sea with Our Lady of Cobre hovering over them in a protective way. In this depiction of Mary she is holding up the Baby Jesus, and both He and Mary wear golden crowns. She is standing on a half-moon, but unlike the statues of Our Lady of Charity in Spain, the moon is pointing downward. This is thought to be a particular message to the Taino Indians. Their goddess Guabonito had the symbol of the rainbow to represent her. It is thought that in this statue Mary is standing on what could be interpreted as the moon by Europeans and Africans and as a rainbow by the Tainos, offering the same gift of healing that the rainbow symbolizes to them. In art, Mary is frequently depicted as light-skinned and wearing the colors of the Cuban flag. To the island’s practitioners of Santeria, Our Lady of Cobre holds an exalted position in their pantheon as the goddess Ochun. She is the goddess of love, money, and household happiness.
Throughout the nineteenth century, Our Lady of Cobre became a Cuban symbol of unity in their desire for independence from Spain. In 1916 she was named the official patroness of Cuba after soldiers who credited her intervention for their liberation from Spain petitioned the Vatican. She has always remained a symbol of the Cuban people. In 1954 when the writer Ernest Hemingway won the Nobel Prize for his novella The Old Man and the Sea, he wanted to give the medal to the Cuban people. The best way he could think to accomplish this was to bring the prize to the Sanctuary of Our Lady of Cobre and dedicate it to her. There it remains to this day. Wherever Cubans are in the world, her feast day is a major celebration for them. Our Lady of Cobre is fondly called by the nickname Cachita. She is a much loved member of Cuban families and her image is the one consistent thing found among exiles fleeing the island and those who live in Cuba. She is the symbol both of faith and of national identity.
Home altar in Havana,Cuba Photographs by Lisa Silvestri
Altar in family mausoleum in Havana, Cuba Photograph by Lisa Silvestri
Religious Statues from the flea market in Mexico City, Mexico.
The “Sweetheart Statue” was brought to the Ursaline Convent in New Orleans in 1785.
visions of Mary Our Lady of Guadalupe
A traveler visiting Mexico or the American Southwest meets Our Lady of Guadalupe hundreds of times a day. Her image adorns the walls of businesses, is prominently displayed in homes, is on the hubcaps of cars, and at the center of small sidewalk shrines. This image of Mary is the preeminent cultural icon for most Latin Americans, sacred to Catholics and highly honored by non-Catholics, and it is the only apparition of Mary sanctioned by the Church on the North American continent.
On December 9, 1531, an Aztec convert to Catholicism named Juan Diego was on his way to early morning Mass in the area that is now known as Mexico City when he heard the sound of birds singing. When they quieted down, the hill at Tepeyac seemed to respond to their song. From the top of the hill a woman gently called to Diego, “Ihuantzin. Ihuan Diegotzin.” She was speaking the Aztec language of Nahuatl. As he approached her, he saw that she was an Indian noblewoman. He was amazed at how her clothes glimmered like the sun and how the rocks and foliage around her had a heightened glow. The crag where her foot rested gave off rays of light and the earth sparkled like a rainbow.
She spoke to him courteously and with great charm, “Know my dearest, littlest, and youngest son, I am the forever whole and perfect maiden Saint Mary, honorable mother of the true God, honorable mother of the giver of life, honorable mother of the creator of men and women, honorable mother of the one who is far and close, honorable mother of the one who makes the heavens and the earth. My wish is for them to build my temple here where I will give people all my love, compassion, assistance, and protection. I am the compassionate mother of you and your people here in this land and all of the other people who love me, call to me, search for me, and confide in me. I will listen to their pain, suffering, and crying and heal them from their misery.”
She then sent him to see the bishop to make the request for the church. After a long wait he related his story to the bishop who told him that he must obtain a sign proving that this was truly an appearance of Mary. Juan Diego returned to the woman on the hill and begged her to get someone more prestigious to give her message to the bishop. She told him that she had many people who could deliver her request, “but it is of precise detail that you yourself solicit and assist and that through your mediation my wish be complied.”
On his next visit to the bishop he was once again greeted with suspicion. When he left, the bishop sent servants to spy on him and to see to whom he was really speaking. But as soon as Juan Diego crossed the wooden bridge to the hill at Tepeyac, they lost sight of him. The next day, a Monday, Juan Diego decided to take another route around the hill in order to avoid the woman. His uncle had taken ill, and he needed medical attention. Juan Diego did not want the woman to detain him, as he feared that his uncle would die waiting for help. Much to his dismay, she came down the hill to meet him from where she was watching. When she asked him why he was so upset and why he was in such a rush, he sadly told her about his uncle’s illness and how his requests for her to the bishop had fallen on deaf ears.
Her answer was, “Listen, put it into your heart, youngest and dearest son, nothing should scare or concern you. Don’t worry. Don’t be afraid of the sickness, or any other illness or hardship. Am I not right here who is your mother? Are you not under my shadow and protection? Am I not in the foundation of your being, your sustenance, your happiness, peace, and effortlessness? Are you not in the fold of my garment? Do you need anything else? Don’t allow anything to worry or disturb you anymore. Don’t worry about your uncle’s illness. He will not die. Be assured, he is already well.”
She then told Juan Diego to gather roses among the rocks. He was surprised to find them in full bloom since it was winter. She carefully arranged them in Juan Diego’s cloak and he brought them to the bishop. After another humiliating wait, he was finally granted an audience. As he unwrapped his cloak and the roses fell out, the bishop gasped. The flowers uncovered an elaborate portrait of the Virgin Mary imprinted on the cloak. The bishop fell to his knees in tears and begged Juan Diego’s forgiveness. The bishop then insisted on being taken to the hill where the lady from heaven wanted her temple. After he had done this, Juan Diego ran home to his sick uncle and was quite shocked to see him happy and healthy. His uncle told him that a heavenly lady had come to heal him, asking him to tell the bishop of his cure. She also wanted him to convey the proper name for her image: The Perfect Virgin Holy Mary of Guadalupe.
The bishop had the church built and the cloth put on public display where it immediately attracted crowds of pilgrims. Almost as suddenly, the Franciscans, who had been in Mexico for the past ten years and who had very little previous success, were receiving thousands of Aztecs who wanted to convert to Catholicism. This cloth and its image, which should have deteriorated in twenty years, is still on view at the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City. After almost five hundred years it remains in pristine condition. Attracting more than ten million pilgrims a year, Our Lady of Guadalupe is the most popular Marian shrine in the world.
At the time of this apparition of Mary, the Aztecs, the original inhabitants of Mexico City, had been suffering brutally under domination of the Spanish colonialists. Disease and depression were rampant. Hernán Cortés, the conquistador, had landed in 1519 and had succeeded in destroying much of the Aztec civilization by 1521. Why, then, were the Aztecs eventually such willing converts to Catholicism? The Aztecs had hundreds of gods in their pantheon. It was their spiritual habit to co-opt the gods of tribes that they conquered. They believed that their own god Huitzilopochtli depended on human sacrifices to be kept alive. They invaded neighboring tribes to obtain these victims. As they as a people became more aggressive against their neighbors, the gods of the Aztecs took on more monstrous forms. Portrayals of the female gods became the most frightening and grotesque. When the Spanish arrived in the Aztec city, they were amazed at its beauty and grace, and equally horrified at the blood-soaked temples with the racks of human skulls and demonic-looking statuary. All Aztec places of worship were considered satanic and systematically destroyed.
The hill where Mary appeared was once the site of the goddess Tonzantin. She was considered a household god, the goddess of corn and fertility. With Our Lady of Guadalupe, the feminine traits of love, compassion, and forgiveness were returned to spirituality and the sick-at-heart population had an entity to whom they could take their sorrow.
Statue of Blessed Juan Diego wearing the tilma with the imprint of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Following pages: Statues being sold at a flea market, an outdoor shrine with Our Lady of Guadalupe surrounded by lights so that she can be worshiped at night.
The portrait of Our Lady of Guadalupe conveyed a message interpreted differently by Aztecs and Europeans, yet triggered the same spiritual response. To the Aztecs, the basic announcement that Mary was making with this image was the dawning of the age of the Sixth Sun. Dividing up their history into solar ages, it was thought that the Fifth Sun, the Sun of Movement, ended with the Spanish conquest. Since the birth of a new sun always follows a time of darkness, it was believed that the appearance of Mary after ten years of destruction signaled the beginning of the Sun of Flowers. According to their lore, this was a time when humanity would come into its own and bloom. In this image, Mary wears a belt worn by pregnant women, thus announcing the birth of a new age. Gold-leaf Nahuatl glyphs symbolizing plenitude appear on her gown. They are arranged over her womb in a pattern that represented the four points of a compass, a basic symbol in the Aztec faith. The womblike light she is wrapped in, the rays of the sun and the crest of the moon, the folds of her robe and the subdued serpent all had hidden messages that were easy for the Aztecs to read. Her eyes do not stare ahead as depictions of the gods do; rather she is looking down at humanity, much as a mother looks at her child. Her hands are in a praying position that the Aztecs used to signify something coming from one’s heart. The fact that her robe is touching the angel signifies protection and love.
For the Christians the iconography of this image was directly related to the book of Revelation where John says, “A great sign appeared in the heavens, a woman clothed with the sun.” This image is associated with the Immaculate Conception. December 9, the first day of her appearance, was also the original day devoted to the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. The halo Mary is wrapped in is called a mandorla. Originally, this type of almond-shaped body halo represented the cloud in which Christ ascended; in time it came to signify the light that emanates from those divinely inspired. In Western art it is used to depict those with a complete bond to Christ. As the Mother of God, Mary is exalted above all angels, offering her protection and love to humanity.
By appearing as a mixed-race woman, Mary was announcing the new face of Catholicism. The brutal, fundamentalist way that Catholicism was practiced by the Spanish was softened. In her appearance Mary was reminding the Europeans that they had the same mother that the Aztecs did. She was the first Christian image that the Mesoamericans could relate to, and the messages embedded in her picture offered hope, love, and comfort to a people when these qualities had been driven out of their own religion.
Our Lady of Guadalupe is the patroness of Mexico, North and South America, and the Caribbean.
The Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe is December 12, the day the miraculous cloth was revealed.
Barbara and I wanted Visions of Mary to be a book about how the Virgin Mary affects people in their everyday lives. In the United States and countries around the world, images of Mary are displayed among family photographs. For this reason, we chose not to use the great art works and paintings that have been created in her honor. Rather, we sought photographs of “everyday Marys.”. The photographer Lisa Silvestri after a trip to Mexico, Cuba, and New Orleans returned with countless beautiful images. It helped set the visual tone for our book. We are grateful to Lisa.
We also worked with Dr. Joseph Sciorra of the Calandra Center in New York City. Sharing his research on the black Madonnas of Southern Italy, and introduced us to the work of two wonderful photographers, Larry Raccioppo of New York City and Dana Salvo of Gloucester, Massachusetts, who are included in this book.
Diane Block, photo archivist at The Museum of New Mexico, was a big help in finding photographs for this book.
We bring this book to you with the help of the people mentioned above. We hope you find something in this book to love and are inspired by, as you go through your life. We will post a chapter every month.
Barbara and Sandy
Hail Mary Full of Grace! the Lord is with you; Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.
Our Lady of Mount Carmel
Mount Carmel, in what is today northern Israel, has always been a place rich in mystical tradition. The word hakkarmel means “the garden” in Hebrew, and true to its title, there is a remarkable profusion of plants and wildflowers on this mountain. It is considered a natural paradise and a sacred place, and in biblical times it was forbidden to disturb any of the natural life on it. Those who wanted to ascend the mountain for meditation lived in caves so as not to intrude on the landscape with unnatural structures.
In about 860 b.c., the prophet Elijah (also known as Elias) arrived on this holy mountain to begin a life of contemplation and prayer. The First Book of Kings is filled with tales of wonders he performed and prophesies he gave. In his prophetic visions on Mount Carmel, Elijah became aware of the coming of the mother of the Messiah. He and his followers mystically dedicated themselves to her, setting an example as the first monks. The descendants of these ancient contemplatives were among the first to accept the teachings of Christ and to be baptized by His apostles. Upon meeting Mary after Christ’s Ascension, they were so overcome by her sanctity that they returned to the mountain to build a chapel in her honor. For the next thousand years Mount Carmel continued to be a place where hermits devoted themselves to prayer.
By the twelfth century, pilgrims from Europe who had followed the Crusades to the Holy Land settled with the ascetics on Carmel and started a religious holy order known as Brothers of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Mount Carmel. Their rule, which was given in 1209 by the Patriarch of Jerusalem, says that all converges toward the contemplation of God. The Rule of Mysticism exhorts those who fol-low it to live a life of continual prayer, obedience to a superior, perpetual abstinence and fasting, manual work, and total silence.
of their order to the laypeople; it served as a reminder that belief in Mary as the Mother of God extended back to the Old Testament with the prophet Elijah. After Pope John XXII (r. 1316–1334) had a vision of Mary where she promised those wearing the brown scapular, “I, the Mother of Grace, shall descend on the Saturday after their death and whomsoever I find in Purgatory, I shall free, so that I may lead them to the holy mountain of everlasting life,” the scapular became extremely popular among the common people. By the end of the sixteenth century it had become smaller in size and very similar to the one that is worn today. Admiration for the Carmelite Order spread as their adherence to the rules of solitude and prayer produced some of the greatest mystical saints in Catholicism, all of whom had visions of or openhearted communications with Mary. Among them are Saint Simon Stock, Saint Teresa, Saint John of the Cross, and Saint Thérèse of Lisieux.
Though the original scapular handed to Saint Simon Stock was brown wool cloth without a picture, the Carmelite scapular that is now worn and the one that is most favored now has an image of Our Lady of Mount Carmel holding the Baby Jesus while she offers the scapular. The other piece of cloth often has a picture of Jesus as a man. Neither image is prescribed. Wearing the scapular is a form of prayer and is considered a visible sign of consecrating oneself to Mary and to accepting her maternal protection. Devotion to Our Lady of Carmel can be found wherever the Carmelites founded a monastery or convent. Many small towns in Italy have churches named after this aspect of Mary. As the townspeople emigrated to other countries, they brought the devotion with them. In many cities in the United States these churches have great celebrations in honor of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. Artistic representations of Our Lady of Mount Carmel depict her either appearing in the sky over Mount Carmel itself or holding Jesus as a toddler. In both versions the figure of Mary is often depicted offering the scapular to the viewer. Tradition has it that the prophet Elijah saw Mary appear in the clouds over Mount Carmel eight hundred years before her birth. Sometimes this representation includes her handing the scapular to Saint Simon Stock. The other version of this aspect of Mary illustrates the Sabbatine privilege where Mary vows to take the souls of those who died wearing the brown scapular out of purgatory on the Saturday after their death. Purgatory is depicted in flames because it is a place where the soul goes to have its sins burned away.
Simon Stock, an English pilgrim, had joined the group on a visit to Jerusalem. At this time, Saracen invaders forced the monks out of their spiritual home on Mount Carmel. All those who would not leave were murdered. Simon Stock was instrumental in getting the order to move to Aylesford, England, where the Baron de Grey gave them a manor house. The Carmelite lifestyle of contemplation, poverty, and silent prayer was not easily accepted in Europe, particularly among the clergy who enjoyed almost the same status and privilege as royalty. Reading into the life of Mary, Simon Stock was inspired by her unquestioning acceptance of all that befell her: her virgin pregnancy; her raising and loving a child doomed to be executed; and her staying at the foot of the Cross while others ran away. It was through his insistence that the Carmelites evolved from a band of hermit ascetics who regretted the loss of their home on Mount Carmel into a traveling society of mendicant friars, opening schools and mission houses in the major capitals of Europe. Still, it was difficult for many monks to accept the alteration of the rule of the order to adapt to European conditions. Their presence was also shunned and not easily tolerated by other religious orders. The people thought these hermits strange and did not accept that they chose to live in such absolute poverty and isolation. In order to preserve what was left of their order, the Carmelites invoked their patroness, the Virgin Mary, for help in establishing their new life. The answer came in a vision to Saint Simon Stock on July 16, 1251, when he was alone in his cell. Mary appeared to him holding the scapular of his order. She told him, “Receive my beloved son, this habit of thy order: this shall be to thee and to all Carmelites a privilege, that whosoever dies clothed in this shall never suffer eternal fire. . . .It shall be a sign of salvation, a protection in danger, and a pledge of peace.”
The scapular, two pieces of brown wool joined at the shoulders and hanging down the back and breast, was not new to the Carmelite order. For hundreds of years before Saint Simon Stock’s vision, monks in Europe had worn scapulars. But it is thought that the brown scapular that Mary delivered was referencing Elijah’s camel-hair garment on Mount Carmel. Eventually, the brown scapular became reduced in size for laypeople to wear under their clothing. This is a special devotion to Mary worn as a sign to commemorate her faith in both God and humankind.
Our Lady of Mount Carmel is the patroness of the Carmelite Order, Chile, and Bolivia. Her feast day is July 16.
“So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.”
—John 13:14-15
The Yorck Project: 10.000 Meisterwerke der Malerei. DVD-ROM, 2002. ISBN 3936122202. Distributed by DIRECTMEDIA Publishing GmbH./Public Domain
Preparation
As you begin this time of quiet prayer, I invite you to find a comfortable place to sit with your back straight and your legs planted on the ground. Take a few moments to breathe in and breathe out.
Spend this time centering yourself to listen to what God may be saying to you during this time of prayer, to listen to what rises up in your heart. Close your eyes for a few moments. As you sit with your eyes closed, use these or similar words: “Here I am, Lord. Here I am.” When you are ready, open your eyes and pray.
Washing Feet
The dining table is scattered with the remains of a meal enjoyed by all there. Imagine you are sitting at this table. Your hands are on your belly, and you’re feeling full and satisfied. The food and wine were savory and sweet. It brought back such memories of meals you shared with friends and family through the years—meals where love was shown, forgiveness offered, and hurts healed. A smile comes across your face as you recall the hours your mother spent in the kitchen getting ready to feed those she loved. Humming softly, she would carefully knead and fold the dough that would become her delicious, crusty bread.
There is much chatter around this table. You look over at these people you have traveled with through many towns and villages, bringing the message of hope and love. A peace comes over you, a peace that tells you what a good job you’ve done. Across the table you see Jesus. He is looking around the table, but his face is serious. He stands up, puts a towel around his waist, and comes toward you. You don’t understand what’s happening. Jesus stands before you, wrapped in a towel and carrying a basin of water. He looks at you and asks you a question. What does Jesus ask you? How do you respond?
Jesus kneels in front of you. You move back in your chair. “No, Jesus. Please get up,” you say. He looks in your eyes. His eyes seem to look right into your soul. He smiles and offers his hand to take your foot. You hesitate. How can this be? you think. Jesus gently cups your foot in his hand. With his other hand, he pours the warm, perfumed water on your foot. He looks at you and smiles. It feels like there are just the two of you there. Jesus speaks to you. What does he say? What do you respond?
You look down and notice how dirty your feet are from walking on the dusty paths. Jesus simply and gently washes them and then dries them with the towel around his waist. Your eyes fill with tears. Here is Jesus, whom you left your home to follow, washing your feet like a servant. You lower your face and quietly weep. Jesus reaches up and puts his hands on your face. He gently whispers to you, “You are loved. You are loved.” He stands and hands you the jug of water and basin. Taking a towel, you wrap it around your waist and…
Do I let Jesus accept me for who I am, “dirty feet” and all? Who are the people in my life whose “feet” need to be washed? On this Holy Thursday, how can I accept Jesus’ call to follow his example of service?
Concluding Prayer
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.
by Larry Racioppo This post contains the outline of JESUS IN THE CITY: THREE GOOD FRIDAYS, a book Larry Racioppo is hoping to publish. The book will contain approximately 100 photographs taken from 1974 through 2015, my personal notes, and an essay by a contemporary scholar
Larry Racioppo was born and raised in South Brooklyn and has photographed New York City since 1971. He was a VISTA Volunteer and a participating artist in the Cultural Council Foundation’s CETA Artist Project. A Guggenheim Fellow and former staff photographer for NYC’s Department of Housing Preservation and Development, his work is held by the Museum of the City of New York, the Brooklyn Museum, El Museo del Barrio, the Center for Brooklyn History and the National September 11th Memorial and Museum. Recent books include Memorial’76, Here Down on Dark Earth: Loss and Remembrance in NewYork City, Coney Island Baby and Brooklyn Before: Photographs 1971-1983. www.larryracioppo.com
In the 1970’s a group of mostly Puerto Rican parishioners, connected to the growing Catholic Cursillo movement, introduced a livelier more personal liturgy to their Italian-American and Irish-American fellow congregants at St. John the Evangelist Roman Catholic Church on 21st Street, Brooklyn. The highlight of this group’s active devotion was their annual reenactment of the passion and death of Jesus Christ on Good Friday. Dressed as Jesus, Mary, Herod, and other New Testament figures, members of this group, informally known as de Colores, staged the traditional Stations of the Cross on the streets of the parish. Jesus was whipped, fell and met his Mother as hundreds watched. I photographed the first procession which took place in 1974 up until the last in 1981.
In 1994 my wife, while working in NYC’s Housing Preservation and Development (HPD) Bushwick field office, learned that a local church held an annual Good Friday procession. I was curious to see another one, and wondered if it would be as moving as the processions I had seen in the 1970’s. I hoped so, and on April 1st of that year brought two cameras with me to St. Barbara’s Roman Catholic Church on Central Avenue and Bleecker Street, Brooklyn
Completed in 1910 in the Spanish Baroque Revival style, St. Barbara’s is an incredibly beautiful church. It began as a “national parish” for German Catholics in the Bushwick-Ridgewood area but eventually became home to Italians, and in the 1960’s to Hispanic worshippers.
What I saw that day exceeded my wildest hopes. I couldn’t believe my luck and realized that this was going to be another long-term photography project for me, not a one-day shoot.
Based on the Bible’s traditional 14 Stations of the Cross, El Grupo Dramatico de Santa Barbara (El Grupo) produced an elaborate and emotional reenactment of the passion and death of Jesus Christ. It began and ended on the large marble altar of St. Barbara’s Church, but most of the action took place along Evergreen, Central, and Wilson Avenues and their cross streets.
It was no accident that the staging of the Stations of the Cross was so powerful. In the months leading up to Easter, El Grupo members devoted countless weekend and evening hours to rehearsing in St. Barbara’s school basement, and to making period costumes and props. Participation is an act of worship whether playing a major role such as Jesus Christ or a small one, like one of the serving girls at Herod’s court. There are parts for everyone: if there are more children one year, there will be more handmaidens and angels. If participants are scarce, members will play more than one part.
El Grupo starts every meeting by holding hands in a prayer circle.
On Good Friday participants spend hours putting on costumes, makeup and wigs in the Church rectory. They say a final prayer in the sacristy before starting the VIA CRUCIS (The Way of the Cross). It begins with the condemnation of Jesus on the main altar before a standing-room-only audience. Jesus is crowned with thorns, takes up his cross and leaves the Church. The procession continues down Bushwick’s streets where Jesus, followed by a huge crowd, enacts several Stations of the Cross including his three falls. In front of a building where Jesus has fallen, the late pastor Father John Powis would raise his voice to connect Jesus’ suffering with the pain caused by “the drug sales in this building” pointing to the building as he spoke. I was surprised when he did this.
The Procession gradually wound its way back to St. Barbara’s for the last several Stations. The day’s highlight was the crucifixion of Jesus and the two thieves. I returned each year to a crucifixion scene that topped the year before: smoke, flashing lights and thunder enhanced the experience.
Mario Trochez, the group’s former director who now lives in Pennsylvania, has been returning to Bushwick each year to direct, act, and help in any way he can. He has promised that soon he will organize a Good Friday procession in his Puerto Rican hometown.
The Via Crucis ends when Jesus is removed from the cross and taken to his tomb (the 14th and last traditional Station of the Cross). The dramatists slowly leave the altar, and return a few minutes later to cheers from the audience. Afterwards they pose for photographs with family and friends in the sacristy. Kenia Vargas, dressed as Mary Magdalene in a turquoise robe and white head scarf.
Eventually El Grupo added Palm Sunday reenactments in the school auditorium as well. In 2004, I found this flyer on a bulletin board at work andI contacted the church’s pastor for permission to photograph the “musical drama.” The musicians and singers were excellent, and the entire evening transcendent. I returned to the Greater Zion Shiloh Baptist Church in Brooklyn to continue this project.
The vocation of the Basilica is to offer continuous Eucharistic adoration, day and night. Every evening, after the doors close at 11 p.m., the prayer relay continues in the Basilica, led by those who have signed up for the night of adoration (and are staying at the Basilica’s guesthouse).
Adoration at the Sacred Heart
Welcome, everyone, to this beautiful experience of nighttime adoration.
You will be accommodated at the Basilica guesthouse, in a dormitory or a single room, depending on your choice and availability. Bed linen is provided in both rooms and dormitories. Towels are only provided in rooms.
Registration at least 24 hours in advance:
by phone at +33 1 53 41 89 00 between 9 a.m. and 6 p.m.
or by email (especially for groups of more than 8 people) via the contact form.
You should receive confirmation of your registration by email or phone. Please note that without this confirmation, your request has not been validated. If we are unable to accommodate you on your chosen date, we will notify you and suggest an alternative date.
Useful information
There are many requests on weekends, and we have to turn down registrations almost every Friday and Saturday evening, but please note that we often have a shortage of worshipers on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday evenings.
Keep this in mind!
After registering, if you are unable to attend, please notify us by email as soon as possible so that others can register.
Schedules
ARRIVAL
DEPARTURE
8:30 p.m. to 9:30 p.m.
until 9 a.m.
Contributions to expenses
ROOMS
ROOM WITH SINK AND SHOWER
ROOM WITH SINK, SHOWER, AND TOILET
Single room
40 €
45 €
Shared room
35 €
40 €
Children’s room (ages 3 to 17)
20 €
20 €
Price per person
DORMITORY
Dormitory box
15 €
Price per person
Upon arrival at reception, payment can be made in cash, by check, or by credit card.
We are grateful to those who support the mission of our hospitality through their donations and participation beyond the indicated offerings.
Food service
2023 Staff Christmas Dinner
BREAKFAST
Between 7:00 a.m. and 8:30 a.m.
Offered to anyone who participated in the night of adoration
DINNER
Reservations must be made 10 days in advance (15 days for groups).
Please ensure you arrive before 7:30 p.m., when dinner service begins.
DINNER OPTIONS
SCHEDULE
PARTICIPATION
Adult dinner
7:30 p.m.
15 €
Children’s dinner
7:30 p.m.
10 €
Upon arrival at reception, payment can be made in cash, by check, or by credit card.
Night of adoration Program
Reception: between 8:15 p.m. and 9:30 p.m. Groups must check in at reception before 9 p.m.
When you arrive, you will be shown to your dormitory or room. Upon arrival, you will choose the time at which you wish to pray during the night between 11:00 p.m. and 6:00 a.m. (ensuring, along with us, that the prayer relay is respected). We will then give you your “pass.”
Important: Each time you come to participate in night adoration, you must pick up this personalized bracelet at the reception desk between 8:30 p.m. and 9:30 p.m. For organizational and security reasons, the reception desk closes at 9:30 p.m. and no exceptions can be made.
PARTICIPATING IN SPIRITUAL LIFE AND LITURGY
9:00 p.m.
Spiritual introduction to the night of adoration (except Mondays)
9:30 p.m.
Compline sung in the basilica (except Mondays)
10 p.m.
Mass
From 11 p.m. to 7 a.m.
Silent adoration by guests staying at the guesthouse. Each person keeps vigil for an hour—or more—in the basilica before the Blessed Sacrament, so that the prayer relay is never interrupted.
6:30 a.m.
Opening of the basilica doors (departure possible)
7 a.m.
Mass in the basilica
8 a.m.
Morning services in the basilica (except Mondays)
We are delighted to welcome you to the night of adoration at the basilica… since August 1, 1885!
It is up to you to be the morning watchmen who announce the arrival of the sun, which is the risen Christ. The light that Jesus speaks of in the Gospel is the light of faith, a free gift from God, which illuminates the heart and enlightens the mind. A personal encounter with Christ illuminates our lives with new light, sets us on the right path, and commits us to be his witnesses. The new way of looking at the world and at people, a way that comes from him, allows us to penetrate more deeply into the mystery of faith, which is an experience to be assimilated, a truth to be lived, the salt and light of all reality.SAINT JOHN PAUL IIPope
This fall, Florence will celebrate the work of Fra Angelico with a major retrospective—the city’s first in seventy years—at both the Palazzo Strozzi and the Museo di San Marco, opening on September 26. For the occasion, Ben Street writes about the resonance of Fra Angelico’s work in modern and contemporary art.
In September 1968, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, staged its exhibition The Great Age of Fresco: Giotto to Pontormo. An Exhibition of Mural Paintings and Monumental Drawings. Two years before it opened, devastating floodwaters had surged through many Italian cities, causing extensive damage to historical sites and killing over 100 people. The wall paintings on show at the Met had been salvaged from ancient buildings whose structures were sodden with rising water. What this delicate process of removal and remounting had revealed were the underdrawings, or sinopias, that had been until then hidden beneath layers of plaster and pigment, ostensibly forever. The revelation of these huge drawings, and their display in New York, obliged a reappraisal of what Renaissance painting was—and what contemporary art could be. In a 2009 essay for October, “Why Would Anyone Want to Draw on the Wall?,” conceptual artist Mel Bochner looked back at his encounter with these works at the Met and answered his own question by declaring that large-scale wall work could “negate the gap between lived time and pictorial time.” The problem of painting in the late ’60s—its apparent inability to speak beyond itself, to rub up against the issues of its moment—found an unlikely solution in centuries-old works of art, for which that gap barely existed.
It was easy enough to pass by Fra Angelico’s work in the 1968 exhibition. Compared to the huge sinopias of his fellow Florentines Andrea del Castagno and Paolo Uccello, his contribution was small: three or four sinopias, saved from sites in and around Florence just after the floods. One of these, a Virgin and Child in rust-red pigment (the term “sinopia” refers to that material, almost always used in underdrawings), charms for its repeated attempts to nail the crook of the baby’s elbow. It has a tentativeness absent from the artist’s completed works. Yet Bochner’s claim that Renaissance wall painting could suggest “a new site, a new scale, a new sense of time” for contemporary art resounds in those of Angelico’s frescoes that remain in their original locations more strongly than in the work of any of his peers. You can see this for yourself: Step off the street in Florence and into the whitewashed cloister of the Dominican monastery of San Marco. Ascend the steep stairs to the top floor, where long corridors are punctuated by arched doorways. Within each of these is a monk’s cell containing a single fresco by Angelico. Each is an argument in paint for the interdependence of life and art. Each says: What gap?
Take this one. An angel with rainbow wings stands before a woman who, like her, is pale, thin, and haloed. Her arms folded in front of her, with right hand up and left hand down, the angel is silently communicating something, announcing something. The woman (a girl, really) echoes that arms-folded gesture, her right fingers holding open the book she’s been reading up to this moment. Those up-and-down gestures condense the subject of the painting: It’s a meeting of worlds, the up and the down, immortal and mortal, heaven and earth. Held still in front of the bellies of the two figures, the gesture also anticipates what’s coming next, namely the birth of a child, who’ll be held in a similar gesture, as babies tend to be. The painting’s subject is the annunciation of the birth of Jesus to Mary by the Archangel Gabriel, but none of Angelico’s presumed viewers would need that story spelled out. It’s entry-level Christian narrative, familiar to even a novice Dominican. Instead, Angelico leans into the implications of the story. That cloister you passed through on the way here, designed by the architect Michelozzo in the late 1430s—contemporary, that is, with Angelico’s fresco—is clearly the model for the painting’s plain architectural interior. The cool Tuscan light that picks out the folds of Gabriel’s garment is the same light illuminating you. And a robed figure behind Gabriel—a man with an alarming gash in his head, the blood dribbling down—is a modern figure, inserted into the ancient narrative: Saint Peter Martyr, a Dominican saint murdered a century before the painting was made. The complex temporality of the work makes demands on its viewers even now. What it means is that the painting is both about the interaction of heaven and earth and is that. Literally embedded in the walls of the monastery, the painting collapses real and painted space, lived and pictorial time: It extends art into life, and vice versa.
Even the name of Fra Angelico has something of the divine about it, yet it wasn’t a name he knew. He was born Guido di Pietro in the Mugello valley north of Florence, sometime toward the end of the fourteenth century. His first recorded paintings coincide with the beginning of his life as a monk; it’s impossible, then, to separate his artistic production from his spiritual life, as the posthumous name “Fra Angelico” (meaning “Angelic friar,” a name that emerged within a decade or so of his death) reflects. By the middle of the nineteenth century, critics such as John Ruskin were asserting (without evidence) that his “purity of life . . . and natural sweetness of disposition” accounted for the spiritual sincerity of his art. In 1982, he was beatified by Pope John Paul II—the only artist thus far to have received that honor, making him the default patron saint of artists. That status provided a framework, perhaps misleading, for understanding his art as a direct expression of spiritual purity. It also set him apart from his contemporaries, many of whom, such as Donatello and Piero di Cosimo, were quite happy to produce images of Roman gods and goddesses for private patrons, something it’s impossible to imagine Angelico doing.
This and other qualities make him an anachronistic figure, whose work never quite shook off the decorative Gothic elements and serene abstraction of his earliest work, from the 1420s. Well into his career he was making ethereal paintings with backgrounds of pure gold leaf while his peers had moved on to more naturalistic settings and anatomies. The 2025 exhibition at the Palazzo Strozzi and the Museo di San Marco, the first in Florence in seventy years, reiterates the case for Angelico’s place within the constellation of Renaissance household names, showing newly restored paintings and reuniting altarpieces dismantled in the nineteenth century. Yet Angelico resists such company. His work troubles the clean break between medieval and modern worlds. And that generative anachronism accounts for his reappraisal in the work of artists centuries after his death in Rome in 1455.
Gathered round the gentle person of Our Lady of Pompei, let us resolve to call on her every day for our needs and the needs of the world.
We are surrounded by a society that needs more than ever the light of the Gospel. Our world is seeking peace. There are so many sufferings that cry out for help. There is such a great longing for justice and charity!
We wish to entrust our hopes to Mary’s motherly intercession. With the repetition of the prayers of the Rosary, we will turn to Mary with the insistent, trusting prayer of a child to his mother. —Cardinal Angelo Sodano
Prayer to Our Lady of Pompeii Remember, O most gracious Virgin of the Rosary of Pompei, that never was it known that anyone who fled to your protection, implored your help, or sought your intercession through the Rosary was left unaided. Inspired with this confidence, I fly unto you, O Mother of Mercy, Virgin of virgins, powerful queen of Victories. To you I come, before you I stand: I implore compassion, I seek grace. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but through your most holy Rosary, graciously hear and answer me.
A Self-Guided Tour of Our Lady of Pompeii Church
25 Carmine Street
NYC Our Lady of Pompeii began in 1892 as the chapel of St. Raphael Society for the Protection of Italian Immigrants, which was located in a townhouse that is still standing at 113 Waverly Place. In 1895, Pompeii rented the former Bethel Methodist Colored Church at 214 Sullivan St., no longer standing. In 1898 it purchased a church that stood at 210 Bleecker Street, across from the southern end of Minietta Street nearby on the eastern side of Sixth Avenue. The church, which looked like a Greek Temple, was erected in 1836 for the Unitarian Universalists. In 1888 the Unitarians sold the church to the African American Roman Catholic congregation of St. Benedict the Moor. When the city condemned the church to extend Sixth Avenue, Pompeii erected this building, formally opening it October 7, 1928.The church’s architect was Mathew Del Gaudio, an Italian American graduate of Cooper Union active in his profession from 1905 to his death in 1960. Del Gaudio created a Romanesque building that would have reminded the earliest parishioners of Italy, with its shallow front steps and flat façade close to the street, its domed sanctuary, and its campanile, or bell tower. The figure on the roof is St. Charles Borromeo, patron saint of the order of priests that founded and staff Pompeii.Step in, look up, and you’ll see paintings celebrating the Rosary, the work of Professore Antonio D’Ambrosio, who was born in Italy and trained as an artist there. He opened his ecclesiastical arts company in 1928, specializing in creating artwork for churches, trained his children in the field, and passed the business along to them. D’Ambrosio’s descendants have returned to do restoration work on Pompeii’s art several times.The right wall’s images depict the Joyful Mysteries: the Annunciation, Visitation, Nativity, Presentation, and Finding Jesus in the Temple. Those on the left wall depict the Sorrowful Mysteries: Jesus’ Agony in the Garden, His Scourging, His Crowing with Thorn, His Carrying of the Cross, and His Crucifixion. On the ceiling are the Glorious Mysteries: the Resurrection, Ascension, Pentecost, Assumption, and the Crowning of the Blessed Virgin in Heaven.Above the altar is a complex construction. On the left and right of the mural, respectively, are images of the Church Suffering, the souls in Purgatory awaiting redemption, and the Church Triumphant, the saints in Heaven. The centerpiece is dedicated to the Church Militant, or the Church on Earth. Above the center is an image of Our Lady of the Rosary of Pompeii, with Jesus on her lap, both of them handing rosaries to St. Dominic and St. Catherine of Siena, early promoters of the rosary. Angels fly about them. Across the bottom are images associated with Pompeii parish, such as the building’s campanile. The figure in red on the right is St. Charles Borromeo. The bishop in white is Blessed John Baptist Scalabrini, founder of the priests who serve at Pompeii. The figure with the basket of roses is St. Martin de Porres, a tribute to the African American community whose church Pompeii purchased. To the left is a Franciscan friar, acknowledging that the Franciscans were the first ministers to New York’s Italians, at St. Anthony of Padua parish on Sullivan Street, a few blocks south of Pompeii. On the right is a galleon, a reminder that the Spanish credited their victory in the 1571 Battle of Lepanto to praying the rosary. The Latin phrase at the mural’s base translates as “Not Arms, Not Leaders, but the Virgin Mary of the Rosary Made us Victors.” Professore D’Ambrosio worked on this commission from 1934 to 1937, finishing with the painting of Jesus revealing His Sacred Heart to Saint Margaret Mary that is to the left as you come further into the church.Just behind you, near the entrance on the left, are statues indicative of the diversity of Pompei’s congregation. The centerpiece is a shrine to Mother Frances Cabrini, patroness of immigrants. Before her is a statue of Jesus Nazareno, an image revered among the Filipino immigrants who also worship at Pompeii. The statue of San Gaetano is a long ago gift from his devotees that cannot be dated. The statue of Saint Jude is a 1955 bequest from parishioner Catherine Brignole; Jude, patron of hopeless causes, was a popular saint in the mid twentieth century. The bust of Bishop Scalabrini also dates from 1955, and Scalabrini’s coat of arms on the column near the bust, from soon thereafter, but these represent the beginnings of devotion to someone who may yet be declared a saint.At the beginning of the wall on the left, or southwest, side of the church, are statues of two saints popular among Italians, St. Rose of Lima and St. Lucy. Then come the stained glass windows, work on which commenced in 1928, with the Stations of the Cross between them. (The Stations and windows actually “begin” at end of the wall nearer the altar if you want to skip ahead and walk back.) The stained glass window at the back of the church is important not only for its illustrations of four of the Beatitudes but for the donors associated with it. Carolina Perazzo, whose name appears on the window, was the daughter of funeral home director Carlo Baciagalupo. She married Giovanni Battista Perazzo, who learned the undertaking business from his wife and father-in-law, and opened his own funeral home at 199 Bleecker St. in Greenwich Village. The business is no longer in the family, but is still at 199 Bleecker St.Most of the topics of the stained glass windows are easily recognizable, but some require some insider knowledge of Pompeii. For example, see the window on the southwest wall given in honor of A. Agostino Gazzolo. The bishop in the window is Scalabrini, the two clergy are a Scalabrinian priest and brother, and the two nuns represent two orders Blessed Scalabrini encouraged: Mother Cabrini’s Missionaries of the Sacred Heart and the Apostles of the Sacred Heart, whose members taught in Pompeii’s school. The Gospel quotation references the Scalabrinians’ mission to help migrants preserve their faith in their new homes.Before turning to the altar, step into the room to the left, where there is a striking stained glass window and several more statues. St. Gerard’s statue came from the maternity ward on the 5thfloor of the Seton Building of St. Vincent de Paul; Greenwich Village’s hospital from 1849 to 2010; it is a gift from the hospital’s founders, the Sisters of Charity.The altar wall of the church consists of three parts. The mosaics of Assumption and of Jesus in Purgatory date from the tenure of Father Mario Albanese, pastor from 1952 to 1964. While you are at the Assumption altar, look at the wall to the left to see the fine mosaic of the Holy Family. In front of the image of the Assumption is one of Pompeii’s newest statues, that of Padre Pio, a Franciscan priest who was declared a saint in 2002. There is also an image of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Normally, that would indicate the presence of Mexican devotees, but during Pompeii’s earliest years, women from Chiavari, south of Genoa, practiced the devotion.Embedded in the marble pre-Vatican II altar is a painting of Our Lady of the Rosary that is an exact replica of the one at the shrine to Our Lady of the Rosary in Pompeii, Italy. The painting was an 1895 gift of heiress Annie Leary. Shortly after its installation, this parish received permission from the Italian shrine’s founder, Bartolomeo Longo, to promote itself as the American shrine. The painting first hung over the altar at the 210 Bleecker Street church mentioned earlier; it was cut to its present shape to fit the altar here.Pompei’s oldest statues cluster around the Purgatory image. Those of the Blessed Mother and St. John the Evangelist date from the 1880s and are part of a set that, together with the crucifix in the donor’s shrine near the church entrance, were fixtures at St. Benedict the Moor. The statues of the Sacred Heart and St. Joseph appear in a 1909 photograph of Pompeii.The stained glass windows to the right of the altar, Pompeii’s northeast wall, also reflect parish history. Note the windows depicting marriage vows and Pope Leo sending Mother Cabrini to the Americas, all given by relatives of Italian-American lawyer Edward Bergonzi, who, along with pioneer Italian immigrant Luigi Fugazy, was on Pompeii’s first board of trustees. The image of the priest in the window depicting marriage is that of Father Antonio Demo, who served at Pompeii from 1898 to 1936, most of the time as pastor; he led Pompeii in building this church. Perhaps after you have completed your visit here you can see the park named for him, diagonally across the street from the church.At the end of the row of Stations and windows is the donor’s shrine, and a plaque noting that Pompeii’s campanile was restored in honor of Vincent Gigante by his parents. He is better known as “Chin” Gigante, and was a leader in one of New York City’s organized crime families. His own family, though, included many other members who were part of the parish; before this plaque went up, another plaque, at the beginning of the Stations of the Cross, notes the Stations were refurbished in honor of Pietro Gigante.On your way out, look up. Above Pompeii’s doors are three stained glass windows. The one of Columbus giving thanks for having reached land in the Americas is a tribute to Pompeii’s Italian roots. The depiction of Ellis Island is a reminder of Pompeii’s commitment to immigrants. In the center is an image of the Holy Family on the Flight into Egypt, a reminder that Jesus, Mary and Joseph were once counted among the world’s migrants and refugees. Dr. Mary Elizabeth Brown, PhD.
“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my Savior for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant. From this day all generations will call me blessed: the Almighty has done great things for me and holy is his Name.” Luke 1:46–49
Assumption of the Virgin Mary, fresco painting in San Petronio Basilica in Bologna, Italy. | Credit: Zvonimir Atletic/Shutterstock
Today we celebrate one of seventeen different memorials, feasts and solemnities in honor of the Blessed Virgin Mary that are found on the Roman Liturgical Calendar. Today’s celebration is one of the four great Solemnities by which our Blessed Mother is honored. Obviously, no other person other than our Lord is honored and celebrated with as much solemnity as the Mother of God.
The Solemnity of the Assumption honors the fact that when the Blessed Virgin Mary completed her life on earth, she was taken body and soul into Heaven to be with her resurrected Son so as to adore the Most Holy Trinity forever. It’s an amazing fact to consider that she retains her body and soul, united as one in Heaven, in anticipation of that glorious day when the new Heavens and Earth will be created and when all the faithful will rise so as to live in a new bodily form forever with God.
Though this dogma of our faith had been held and believed by the faithful from the earliest times of our Church, especially since it was witnessed by those closest to our Blessed Mother at the time of her glorious Assumption, it wasn’t until November 1, 1950, that Pope Pius XII solemnly proclaimed it to be so, raising this teaching of our faith to the level of a dogma, meaning, it must be held and believed by all. In part, the Holy Father declared, “…we pronounce, declare, and define it to be a divinely revealed dogma: that the Immaculate Mother of God, the ever Virgin Mary, having completed the course of her earthly life, was assumed body and soul into heavenly glory.”
The Gospel passage quoted above comes from the beginning of Mary’s song of praise, her Magnificat, by which she not only gives the greatest glory to God but also reveals who she is. She is the one whom “all generations” will call “blessed.” She is the one for whom “the Almighty has done great things.” She is the one who will eternally proclaim “the greatness of the Lord” and whose spirit will forever rejoice in God her Savior. And she is that lowliest of servants whom God has raised up to the greatest glory.
Reflect, today, with the whole Church, upon the Most Glorious Ever-Virgin Mary who was conceived without sin, remained sinless throughout her life, and was taken body and soul into Heaven where she now adores the Most Holy Trinity and intercedes for you and for the whole Church. This is a Solemnity of great rejoicing! Share in this joy with the whole Church and with all the saints in Heaven!
Most glorious and Ever-Virgin Mary, I rejoice today with you and with the whole Church for the most glorious things that God has done for you. You are beauty beyond beauty, Immaculate in every way, and worthy of our deepest love. As you now share body and soul in the glories of Heaven, please pray for me and for all your dear children on earth. Cover us with your mantle of love and pour forth the mercy of God upon us always. Mother Mary, assumed into Heaven, pray for us who have recourse to thee. Jesus, I trust in You.
Prayer to Mary, Assumed into Heaven
O Immaculate Mary, Assumed into heaven, you who are most blessed in the vision of God: of God the Father who exalted you among all creatures, of God the Son who willed that you bear Him as your Son and that you should be His Mother, of God the Holy Spirit who accomplished the human conception of the Saviour in you. O Mary, most pure O Mary, most sweet and beautiful O Mary, strong and thoughtful woman O Mary, poor and sorrowful O Mary, virgin and mother woman very human like Eve, more than Eve. You are near to God by your grace and by your privileges in your mysteries in your mission, in your glory. O Mary, assumed into the glory of Christ in the complete and transfigured perfection of our human nature. O Mary, gate of heaven mirror of divine light ark of the Covenant between God and mankind, let our souls fly after you let them fly long your radiant path, transported by a hope that the world does not contain eternal beatitude. Comfort us from heaven, O merciful Mother, and guide us along your ways of purity and hope till the day of that blessed meeting with you and with your divine Son our Saviour, Jesus. Amen!
visions of Mary Our Lady of Guadalupe
novena.com 