Our Lady of Guadalupe

In the beginning, God had a dream.
Like all parents, God looked at his children, found them good and dreamed for them.
Human parents, undoubtedly have many dreams for their sons and daughters.
Dreams of success, of achievement, of happiness,
Dreams of becoming something more than they, the parents, had been.
A little girl is already walking down the aisle on her birthday
A little boy is already pitching his first no hitter before he can stand upright
Parents dream for their children
God dreamed too for Adam and Eve and, perhaps unlike human parents, God’s dream was simple and it was this: That they would say “yes”.
God dreamed that Adam and Eve would say yes to the paradise He offered them.
God dreamed that those first two would say “yes” to God’s love and companionship.
God dreamed that their “yes” would engender many ages of fulfillment, promise, wonder.
Human parents know, however, that seldom do their dreams for the children come true, at least not in the way they imagined. And so it was with God. Adam and Eve didn’t say “yes”.
They refused the Father’s love, denied the paradise he created for them and their resounding “no” to God has echoed down the corridors of time, bouncing off the walls of human folly, engendering itself into the very fiber of our existence.
That “no” to God became the inheritance of that first son. It became original to us. It taught us to squander promise, and deny hope. That “no” became the marker of a fallen race, a desperate people. Inheritors of the first sin, time and again we broke God’s offer of reconciliation, in the covenant of the rainbow, the covenant of blood, in the law and prophets, we heard God’s plea for a “yes” and with the stubbornness of a three year old who has just learned the word, we said “no”.

But still God’s dream could not be stilled. God dared to keep dreaming, even in the face of persistent and absolute disappointment.
Until one day, he saw an opportunity and in the frenzy of beating wings and the cacophony of light, God’s dream was uttered again, to a simple girl, one of the low of the earth, a slave of men’s expectations. And here is the miracle. Mary said. “yes”. And God sighed.
That “yes” uttered so long ago in a dark and sullen place of human existence, resounds today. That Word continues to give hope and promise to a people mired in their own self-seeking, their own sordidness. That Word continues to gain momentum in a world weighed down by a lack of promise, a deficiency of peace, a dearth of faith, a scarcity of hope.

And that “yes”, Mary’s “yes” has translated itself into countless languages, spoken by people of every color, every culture. It is spoken in the accents of the poor and the neglected of every society. That “yes” has become the universal symbol of hope, of purity, of the future. That “yes” is celebrated here, today on this altar, as a Word which cannot be silenced, a Word we inherit and consume and take to a tired world. It is the yes to conquer all no’s, out there and in here, in our hearts, our worn minds. And God’s dream is realized, in Mary and in us. In the beginning, God had a dream, and that beginning is today, is now, is here. Happy are those who are called to this altar.