Angelus News | April 19-26, 2019 | Vol. 4 No. 15

The Cathedral of Mexico City is one of the greatest
Christian churches in the world, probably
the most outstanding in our hemisphere. Three
centuries in the construction and decoration, it
is an anthology of art and devotion.
You could make a retreat just focusing on the 16 side
chapels, the sacristy, which would put some modern
churches to shame, and the high baroque altars, the main
one called “Altar de los Reyes” (“Altar of the Kings”) and
the “Altar de Perdón” (“Altar of Pardon”), at the entrance
of the cathedral.
The “Altar de Perdón” was indulgenced especially for
prayers for the dead. In front of that altar is a crucifix
called “El Señor del Veneno” (“The Poisoned Lord”).
Sculpture inspires legends
This crucifix was made by indigenous artisans in the
18th century. It is unusual for its deep, black color and
for the way the corpus of Christ hangs in a y shape. Jesus
seems to be bending his knees, and that has inspired
legends about the sculpture and some very theological
reflection.
There are several different versions of those legends, but
two of them speak a great deal to me.
The first emphasizes the location of the crucifix in the
chapel of the Dominican seminary called “Porta Caeli”
(“Heaven’s Gate”). The story has it that a priest heard the
confession of a man there who had stolen a treasure and
in the process murdered someone.
The priest said he could not give absolution unless the
man returned the treasure and submitted to justice for the
homicide. The man was repentant but not that remorseful,
apparently.
He regretted having confessed his crime and then,
ignorantly, supposed the priest would report him to the
authorities. A priest cannot break the seal of confession
even when he refuses absolution.
Because he felt threatened with exposure, the man
decided to kill his confessor. The priest had the pious custom
of praying before and then kissing the crucifix before
retiring each night from the chapel.
The murderer knew of the practice and so smeared the
feet of the corpus of Jesus on the cross with poison. Supposedly,
the criminal hid in the shadows of the darkened
church in order to watch the deadly kiss.
As the priest leaned down to kiss the image, the murderer
was shocked to see the body of the Christ shift on the
cross and swing his feet away from the priest’s face. The
legs supposedly then remained in that position, saving the
priest. Some say the murderer repented and others that he
ran away frightened.
For me, this story has many lessons: about the seal of
confession, the necessity of true repentance, and reparation
from sin and the value of pious veneration of images of the
Lord.
The other story says the image was not always so dark
but that it absorbed the poison painted on the feet and
changed color all the way to the head. Those with devotion
to this crucifix see the image as absorbing the poison
of their lives, all the moral darkness of sin and suffering.
On my visits to the cathedral I have always seen people
praying before the crucifix with great reverence and
concentration. “I beg you, Lord,” says a prayer connected
with the image, “to purify me so that the vicious poison
of sin not penetrate my heart.”
Last year, the sculpture made of a kind of paste from
sugar cane was given a protective restoration treatment.
Many faithful were very concerned about the absence of
the crucifix, and the cathedral’s art director had to make
a statement about preserving the image for the veneration
of generations to come.
He also said that the contributions of those who are
devoted to the Black Christ are the most important
source of economic support for the great cathedral. “ ‘El
Señor del Veneno’ sustains the cathedral financially,” he
said. (Body and soul, brick and mortar and spirit — as a
pastor, I can empathize).
In Latin American countries you can see many diverse
people praying privately in the churches, not just in
liturgies.
In Mexico there are centuries-old, very beautiful
churches, with people old and young, men and women,
kneeling in prayer, often with an absorption in their
dialogue with God that would put many of us to shame.
Even some of our most beautiful cathedrals and basilicas
are not free of a touristy ambience sometimes.
Sacred space made beautiful
In the Cathedral of Mexico City one experiences sacred
space made beautiful not only by centuries of art but also
by the hallowing of the prayer of countless generations of
poor and humble people.
The Black Christ, the Lord poisoned by our sin, has
inspired so much prayer and consolation. As is evident
in this example, it is a prayer more filled with sentiment
than we are accustomed to in Anglo culture, a prayer
that is the poetry of the soul.
I know that for you nothing is impossible
My beloved Lord who was poisoned
I ask you from the deepest part of me,
With the deepest confidence in your power
Help me in my anguish and lack of peace,
I ask you with all my faith and hope
That you help me in my great difficulties.
Let me climb your cross and get next to you
To receive your mercy and blot out my past errors,
To live free of fears and avoid the death of sin.
Give me your blessing and favor, my beloved crucified
Lord.
Amen.
Msgr. Richard Antall is pastor of Holy Name Church in
the Diocese of Cleveland, a contributor to Angelus and
author of the book “Jesus Has A Question for You” (Our
Sunday Visitor, $11.95).
April 19-26, 2019 • ANGELUS • 27