The Iverskaia Virgin, or Iberian Virgin

 You can read the original text in Portuguese here.

While researching old texts, we came across an article whose content caught our attention. The connections it draws to the Centennial of Fatima are so striking that we felt it would be of interest to share it with the readers of this blog. May the Iberian Virgin once again reign over the nation that profaned her!

One of the most important collections of icons—those distinctively Eastern religious paintings—in Europe, and perhaps in the world, can be found in the small city of Torrejón de Ardoz, not far from Madrid. There, in the old estate of the Jesuit College of Saint Isidore, the nobleman Sergei Otzoup established his Icon Museum.

The exact date of the estate’s construction is uncertain, but all indications suggest it was built in the early 17th century, when the Society of Jesus acquired a piece of land in Torrejón to supply the Imperial College, founded by Empress Maria, daughter of Charles V and widow of Maximilian I.

With the expulsion of the Jesuits from Spain in 1767, the estate was acquired by Don Juan de Aguirre. By 1805, the extensive property belonged to the House of Pignatelli of Aragon, Counts of Fuentes, who were closely associated with the spiritual sons of Saint Ignatius. During the restoration of the Society of Jesus under King Ferdinand VII, the Counts returned the property to the Jesuits.

Expelled once again in the 19th century, the Jesuits saw the estate revert to the Counts of Fuentes, who retained it until 1902. Finally, Don Rafael Onieva Ariza restored the property to its current magnificence and repurposed it for cultural use, naming it La Casa Grande.

Walking through the halls of La Casa Grande and entering the Icon Museum, one image stands out in particular: the Iverskaia Virgin, or Iberian Virgin.

In this icon, the Mother of God is portrayed with the Christ Child resting on her left arm, bearing the majesty of one seated on His rightful throne. It is in Mary that Jesus finds His delight. While she tenderly supports and protects the Divine Child, her right arm gestures toward Him, indicating to the faithful that He is the model of all perfection and the supreme Judge of every cause. As the Universal Mediatrix of all graces, her gentle gaze turns to each devotee who kneels before her, seeking her intercession and trusting in her care.

The harmony and sweetness radiating from the image—rendered in soft, blended tones of red and gold—are jarringly disrupted by several bullet holes visible in the painting. Clear marks of gunfire can be seen on both the Mother’s and the Child’s faces.

This startling desecration dates to a not-so-distant past. The date? May 13, 1917.

Yes—while Our Lady was appearing for the first time in Fatima, beginning a series of apparitions in which she foretold the spread of Russia’s errors throughout the world as a chastisement for humanity’s sins and promised the eventual triumph of her Immaculate Heart, this act of sacrilege was taking place in Moscow during the unrest that preceded the Bolshevik Revolution.

Sadly, as is well known, following the Eastern Schism, few of the faithful in the Russian Empire remained united to the See of Peter. A striking example of what remained of that union occurred during the jubilee of Saint Pius X, when a delegation of Russian Catholics presented the Holy Pontiff with an icon of the Mother of God—specifically under the title of Iverskaia Virgin. This suggests that devotion to Our Lady under this title predates Russia’s break with Rome and may even carry prophetic significance for the conversion of Russia, as foretold in the Message of Fatima.

Even within schism, the Blessed Virgin continued to be venerated—albeit outside the true Church of Christ—in countless sanctuaries and through many icons scattered across that vast land. Among them, the Iberian Virgin stood out as the patroness of Moscow. Her name traces back to the region of Iberia, in southern Russia near the Caucasus. According to museum brochures and postcards from Torrejón de Ardoz, this icon was painted in the 16th century and once stood in a small chapel at the entrance to the Kremlin.

After the Tsar was deposed, during the brief regency of Prince Lvov under Kerensky’s government, the chapel was so thoroughly destroyed on that fateful May 13th of the revolutionary year that not one stone remained. The Iverskaia Virgin icon was riddled with bullets—and it is said she wept when profaned. Believed lost during the months leading up to the Bolshevik Revolution, the icon was preserved—along with many others—thanks to Sergei Otzoup, who succeeded in removing them from Russia in December 1918.

Today, on display at the Icon Museum of La Casa Grande, the Iverskaia Virgin—desecrated in a hatred for religion—remains a sign of hope. A symbol above all for Russia, and also for the world, of the new era promised by Our Lady at Fatima and prophesied by Saint Louis-Marie Grignion de Montfort—the extraordinary French missionary of the 17th century—as the coming of the Reign of Mary.

 Source: Revista Catolicismo, May 1986