Our Lady of Guadalupe: Protector of the Oppressed
Letter from Annie Kibrick
“At numerous points in my life, when my faith has waned, the mysterious image of Our Lady of Guadalupe has restored it, enveloping me in awe of the apparition all over again. She consistently models for me women’s role as protector, particularly for the immigrant community. Her patronage of the unborn and Mexican people are just two of the groups for whom she intercedes. However, she deeply challenges me with her manner of protection.” Our Lady of Guadalupe, protector of the oppressed, model of feminine strength and the feminine genius, pray for us.
Dear friends,
I knelt in the last pew of the little adoration chapel, reflecting on my Wednesday workday and trying to motivate myself to pray the Rosary when a middle-aged Hispanic woman entered. She shuffled past me, dropped to her knees in front of the monstrance, and lifted her hands. Within seconds, I heard her violent sobs and breathy pleading to Jesus for mercy. Her fervent praying rocked me and I immediately recognized her as an immigrant client who met with me earlier that day. I could only imagine what anxieties and sufferings she was relaying to him. I looked at Jesus and told Him, “I hate this.”
When attempting to channel my outrage about the dehumanizing portrayals and mistreatment of immigrants, I have to remind myself that I knew very little about the immigrant experience until I was unexpectedly introduced to their world. I started working at a Catholic Charities immigration legal services office in 2016, around the time immigration policy reemerged as one of the most contentious ones in public discourse. Before this, I had no prior knowledge of the restrictiveness of the current immigration system nor immigration reform efforts.
Four years later, the majority of my clients still are first-generation Central American immigrants who often share their stories of immigration to and living in the United States with me. At legal clinics, teenage boys have recounted the gang violence they witnessed firsthand that motivated them to immigrate. I have sat with desperate mothers separated from their children at the U.S.-Mexico border. I have listened as families make major decisions regarding whether they should access essential social services and potentially jeopardize their future ability to legalize their status. While their lives collectively form an “issue,” I am grateful to know them as individuals with breathtaking stories of heartache and resilience.
Handwritten quote from the writer
At numerous points in my life, when my faith has waned, the mysterious image of Our Lady of Guadalupe has restored it, enveloping me in awe of the apparition all over again. She consistently models for me women’s role as protector, particularly for the immigrant community. Her patronage of the unborn and Mexican people are just two of the groups for whom she intercedes. However, she deeply challenges me with her manner of protection.
I distinctly recall storming into a nearby church on a day when an executive order was rescinded which offered protection from deportation for undocumented young people who entered the U.S. as children. I slid into a pew in front of the huge image of her next to the altar.
Fighting back angry tears, I asked, “How could you let this happen to them?” I had attended the Mass in her honor in the same church on her feast day the year before. Dozens of Our Lady of Guadalupe paintings and statues lined the altar steps. Hundreds of people cheered as her image processed past them, loudly singing her praises with songs they knew by heart. “Don’t you see how much they love you?”
She let me air my frustrations but then, as I stopped my inner tirade, I began to imagine her wrapping each one of her children up tightly in her garments and drawing them close to her, like she did with newborn Jesus when fleeing to Egypt. I suddenly realized no one understands the weight of a life lived in limbo like she does. Armed with this experience, she is their primary advocate, their fiercest defender. Her apparition in Mexico to Juan Diego testifies to her attentiveness to her immigrant children in distress. She demonstrates an acute awareness of the unique challenges of each time. She values their culture, by appearing as a young indigenous woman and speaking in Juan’s native dialect Nahuatl. She fights for them by crushing their enemies with her heel even if she doesn’t do it exactly on my time.
I often struggle with feelings of inadequacy when working with the immigrant community. I stumble over the Spanish language all day long. I still have so much to learn about their cultures. I battle laziness, pride and despair when overwhelmed. I have limited sway in policymaking. I can’t learn anything fast enough with regards to housing, benefits and immigration law. Sometimes I wonder if I occupy a position someone more competent deserves. Yet any time I spot her slightly-faded image, she reminds me she would never ask me to accompany any person without pleading on my behalf for His grace.
And how desperate I am for this grace! Because most days, I feel like Juan. I tell her I don’t want to be entrusted with anything or anyone. But Our Lady has encouraged me and helped me to define my role in accompanying others through turbulent times.
For me, the best way to support my immigrant clients through uncertain times is to offer my ongoing partnership and availability. I frequently tell them, “somos un equipo” (“we are a team”), expressing my desire to learn alongside them and connect them with every appropriate resource of which I am aware. Despite my limitations, I always have something to give even if that is just one application, one referral, one resource or one conversation in which I earnestly seek to understand. Most importantly, I try to ensure they know I am with them. Ultimately, many of their crises remain unresolved but Our Lady insists each person is loved and protected. All she requests is for me to accompany them.In this accompaniment, I rarely feel like a service provider but rather, a sister in Christ. Too often reduced to their economic contribution or legal status, these families inspire me with their humor, perspective, talents and strength on a daily basis. I am most grateful for how they have accompanied me on my own journey of faith. Just like the woman pouring out her heart in front of the Blessed Sacrament, they repeatedly show me what it looks like to run to our Mother and cling to the hope of her Son’s Resurrection. They challenge me to re-frame my idea of what Our Lady’s protection looks like.
She protects her children by offering her human solidarity, intercession and abiding presence. I struggle to understand why she doesn’t demand her Son to spare people from suffering like the mother I watched cry in the chapel or loved ones battling debilitating illnesses or clients at-risk of eviction. Yet the witness of so many of my immigrant clients’ faith compels me to contemplate how Our Lady protects through the valley of tears and not always from it. I could relay countless stories of clients noticing my Our Lady of Guadalupe medal then passionately relating incredible stories of how la virgencita has consoled them through their darkest moments. While I am preoccupied with all of the oppressive policies impacting their families, they quote the Psalms and remind me to trust in Our Lady’s intercession for she is always with us.
What a gift that Our Lady accompanies us just as she accompanied Jesus! She watched her Son suffer persecution, torture and death but understood His suffering would bring about the salvation of man. I often wonder the words Mary prayed as she watched her Son carry His Cross, how she pleaded with God, the questions she asked. Still, in the darkness of the Cross, she trusted in His promises although His suffering pierced her heart.
Her example reminds me of the sacred obligation we have to accompany our brothers and sisters on their respective journeys and to not wish away my or anyone else’s crosses. Our Lady walks with us as we carry them uphill because she knows Who we’ll meet at the top. She accompanies us, as she did with her Son all the way to the site of His Crucifixion where He asked her to be a mother to us all.
A few months ago, I entered that same chapel to find every pew packed with Rosary warriors praying in Spanish, singing between decades and petitioning in their signature way: with expectancy. The intensity with which they prayed revealed to me how convicted these adorers were in Mary’s intercession and hand in deliverance. Despite chronic stress, poverty or immigration status, these women knelt before their Savior and sang to their Mother as empowered people. Through their witness, Our Lady communicated to me that she has been sustaining and will continue to sustain them and all of her children as we face the trials before us.
From the Cross, Jesus told us to behold our Mother. As we grapple with the mystery of suffering, we can heed His words by resting in His Mother’s reassurance of her protection: “Hear me and understand well, my little son, that nothing should frighten or grieve you. Let not your heart be disturbed. Do not fear that sickness, nor any other sickness or anguish. Am I not here, who is your Mother? Are you not under my protection? Am I not your health? Are you not happily within my fold? What else do you wish? Do not grieve nor be disturbed by anything.”
Our Lady of Guadalupe, pray for us!
Love,
Annie
About the Writer: Annie Kibrick lives in New York and works for Catholic Charities Community Services. She is currently studying for a Masters of Social Work at Fordham University which enables her to spend time thinking about her favorite subjects: social justice, public policy, human relationships and how Jesus continues to heal today. She makes an average of thirty New Year's resolutions (yielding a very low completion rate), loves songwriting and considers March Madness her favorite season. She experiences God’s goodness in her life primarily through her big family, donuts and an abundance of Eucharistic Adoration chapels where she lives and works.
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For Your Reflection:
Pray about it: Our Lady of Guadalupe is a model of true feminine strength, tending to and protecting those who have been marginalized by society. Ask God how he is calling you to live your feminine genius out in this particular way, serving those who have been marginalized.
Write about it: What roles has Our Lady played in your life? How does she inspire you to live out your feminine genius?
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