Easter Reflections: A Visit to Ocotlán

It’s Easter time — a time to be reminded that God didn’t (and doesn’t) do things the way man expects. And that has made me remember and reflect on something that happened a few months ago.

We were part of a group on a pilgrimage to central Mexico at the end of the summer. The highlight of our trip had been a visit to the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe, some distance from the center of Mexico City. We visited the Basilica and climbed Tepeyac Hill, where San Juan Diego met with the appearance of Our Lady in 1531 — barely ten years after the Spanish had conquered Mexico’s Aztec kingdom.

Our group was taken out to Teotihuacan the next day. I remember being taught as a child that the pyramids there were built by the Aztecs, but that’s not so. Now we know that Teotihuacan started being built about the time of Christ, and it was in ruins when the Aztecs arrived, having been abandoned some eight centuries before.

Leaving the area of the pyramids, we ended up on a minor road heading for Tlaxcala and its nearby village of Ocotlán to see a beautiful and historic church there. It seemed to take an awful long time getting there, and some of us wondered why we were on a minor road when it seemed one of the major highways would have suited the trip better.

On the way, we were told a little about the Basilica of Our Lady of Ocotlán. This church is associated with an appearance of Our Lady to another Juan Diego, this one in 1541 — just ten years after her appearance at Tepeyac. Near the church is a miracle spring that figures in the story of this appearance. We were told we might be able to get some water from the spring while we were there — if we got there while the gates were still open.

We finally arrived in Ocotlán about 5 p.m. Mass was just starting as we came into the church. Naturally, we stayed and participated. It must have surprised the elderly priest to see such a group there for a midweek Mass. Hearing the group fully participating in the Spanish of the Mass might have surprised him a bit, too.

We noticed during the Mass that the priest never moved from where he was behind the right side of the altar at any time. The reason became evident as the Mass ended. He was in a wheelchair, and evidently not in very good shape. The priest and deacon with our group went up to talk to the older man while the rest of us were looking at (and admiring) this beautiful church and the figure of Our Lady featured there in accordance with her wishes.

And then things started to get unusual, in ways far beyond any coincidence.

It turned out the elderly priest was just returning from major surgery — an amputation. This was apparently one of his first days back in his church. Part of his leg had become infected, and he had been unable to fight the infection because of his diabetes. For that same reason, his recovery was being painfully slow.

He had been aware that we were from the United States, but only now did he learn we were from New Mexico. That was particularly striking for him because he had studied at the seminary in Montezuma, New Mexico, which was set up as a gift from the United States Council of Catholic Bishops during the time when many priests were killed and all the seminaries in Mexico were closed by the Mexican government. Our accompanying deacon attended the Montezuma seminary later, and was known to this priest by reputation. (!)

As the priest spoke with us, he became more animated; our visit was clearly giving him a lift. We all gathered around the priest and gave him a special blessing before we left. He was very moved, and we saw a tear in his eye.

After we were back on our bus, on the way out of the area, the meaning of what had just happened began to dawn on us. We began to realize how it must have been for him, at this time of personal trial, having us arrive — a pilgrim group from an area full of good memories for him — dropping in, blessing him, and almost magically disappearing again. We did a real good deed that day. That day we were angels.

And that explains why it had to take so long getting to Ocotlán — it was so we would get there at the right time.