The Virgin Of Guadalupe: A Goddess Whose Reach Is Extending Northward

Here is the most famous story in Mexican history: On Dec. 12, 1531, in what would become Mexico City, the Virgin Mary appeared to an Indian named Juan Diego. Her skin was brown, she was pregnant and barefoot, and she addressed this humble man in his own language. At the fourth of her five apparitions, this Virgin caused fresh roses to bloom in the rocks. Juan Diego brought them to the local bishop, gathered in the only thing he owned: his cloak. When he dumped the flowers at the feet of the doubting cleric, the Virgin magically appeared on Juan Diego's tilma (cloak).

Every detail of this story is fraught with meaning. The Virgin of Guadalupe, as she is officially known, first appeared at Tepeyac, the site of an ancient Indian shrine to Tonantzin, a mother-goddess of indigenous cast. And she appeared at a time of crisis and despair, when the indigenous peoples' world lay in ruins. To some, the story was suspect. Was it merely a tool to turn the Indian peoples toward Catholicism?

If the Virgin was "invented," she has long ago surmounted it. Every aspect of Guadalupe continues to matter deeply, to Mexicans and many others who see resonance in her color, her words, her gestures and her solitude. But what she "means" remains ever-changing. A new book of essays called "Goddess of the Americas/La Diosa de las Americas" (Riverhead Press, $23.95) illustrates this beautifully.

Editor Ana Castillo calls the book "an unorthodox rosary." Its contributors range from Octavio Paz and Elena Poniatowska to Guillermo Gomez-Pena and Denise Chavez - and their visions of this Mother vary widely. Here is the Virgin of North American gang tattoos, of El Vez (the "Mexican Elvis" performing tonight), of wayward women and low-rider cars. For those who see her only on candles next to Duracell batteries, an exotic commodity in their local grocery, these essays will help explain her power.

Although practicing Catholics call her the Virgin Mary and Queen of Heaven, many of the writers in Castillo's book do not. To them, she is a symbol of female power, of their skin shade, of their ancient roots.

But, as broadcaster Ruben Martinez says, "It's OK that my Spanish isn't perfect, that I eat hamburgers and I love rock 'n' roll. All la Virgen asks of me is faith." He gives the Guadalupe another title, "The Undocumented Virgin": mother and protector of the poor.

Martinez is not alone here. Author Sandra Cisneros dubs her "The Sex Goddess," activist Margaret Randall "The Subversive Virgin," and poet Cherrie Moraga "Our Lady of the Cannery Workers."

As her influence moves ever northward, the book is a timely way to learn more. Here is part of an exciting re-envision: of a truly all-American icon.

Celebration

A celebration, "Guadalupe as Mary, Mother of the Americas" is set for Dec. 14 at St. James Cathedral. Ceremonies begin at 10:45 a.m. with matachines, rosary and blessing said by local tribes and procession of indigenous dancers from throughout the hemisphere. Mass and a reception will follow. The public is invited.