During his homily at the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City, Pope Francis shared this reflection:
Simply looking at you, O Mother,
to have eyes only for you,
looking upon you without saying anything,
telling you everything, wordlessly and reverently.
Do not perturb the air before you;
only cradle my stolen solitude
with your loving Motherly eyes,
in the nest of your pure ground.
Hours tumble by, and with much commotion,
the wastage of life and death sinks its teeth into foolish men.
Having eyes for you, O Mother, simply contemplating you
with a heart quietened by your tenderness
that silence of yours, chaste as the lilies.
And in looking at her, we will hear anew what she says to us once more, “What, my most precious little one, saddens your heart?” Mary tells us that she has “the honor” of being our mother, assuring us that those who suffer do not weep in vain. These ones are a silent prayer rising to heaven, always finding a place in Mary’s mantle. In her and with her, God has made himself our brother and companion along the journey; he carries our crosses with us so as not to leave us overwhelmed by our sufferings.
Am I not your mother? Am I not here? Do not let trials and pains overwhelm you, she tells us. Today, she sends us out anew; today, she comes to tell us again: be my ambassador, the one I send to build many new shrines, accompany many lives, wipe away many tears. Simply be my ambassador by walking along the paths of your neighborhood, of your community, of your parish; we can build shrines by sharing the joy of knowing that we are not alone, that Mary accompanies us. Be my ambassador, she says to us, giving food to the hungry, drink to those who thirst, a refuge to those in need, clothe the naked and visit the sick. Come to the aid of your neighbor, forgive whoever has offended you, console the grieving, be patient with others, and above all beseech and pray to God. Am I not your mother? Am I not here with you? Mary says this to us again. Go and build my shrine, help me to lift up the lives of my sons and daughters, your brothers and sisters.
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