Today is the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, and yesterday at mass there was a short procession with a Guadalupe statue, children carrying candles, and the Blessed Sacrament under a canopy that looked kind of like the huppah at Jewish weddings. As I stood in the procession, my throat kept swelling up with emotion, and I was afraid of crying. Catholics have been doing this--having processions with statues on feast days--since at least the Middle Ages, and there I was, a part of this tradition that so many people have taken part in all over the world. I may have been in a modern parking lot in America, wearing modern clothes and no doubt holding a lot of modern ideas, but I was connected to Catholics from hundreds of years ago, as well as Catholics in other parts of the world today--especially in Mexico, where Our Lady of Guadalupe is most loved. I was connected to all of them, and it was good.
At least I think that's why I was so moved.
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