Today the church honors Mary and signifies her as the “Mother of the Church.”
As I often reflect, growing up Catholic, I received a portrait of Mary (through images and homilies) that was safe, neat, passive and fully supportive of the values of our dominant culture (including our sexism and racism). She was always referred to with the word “virgin” attached and her name was often accompanied by words like “lowly.” And in true patriarchal form she was always defined by her relationship to a man. Furthermore, her reality felt far removed from any of the women in my life who had real struggles, joys and challenges.
I resonate with my friend, Kim Redigan from Detroit, who says, “For a very long time now, I have been on a mission to liberate the white porcelain hands of Mary from clerics and capitalists who have turned our tough sister into little more than a cooing dove. A saccharine symbol of passivity. A willing tool of the patriarchy. A voiceless virgin who is venerated but never listened to, much less followed.”
As we now know through historical research, Mary had a significant role in the early church – and not just because she gave birth to Jesus. There’s evidence to suggest that she was a leader (what would likely be a modern day priest) of emerging house churches, and she also may have served as a bishop/elder. Images as far back as the 6th century portray her in “priestly vestments” and continued to do so for some time. This practice was officially banned by the pope in 1916, however, who was concerned about the ‘confusion’ this portrayal might cause for the faithful!
But even if one takes issue with the idea that she was a priest or church leader, we can’t take issue with what the gospel writers depict as her revolutionary vision for the world.
In Luke 1, Mary delivers her “Magnificat” in which she speaks of God’s greatness. Her words echo the prayer of Hannah in 1 Samuel 2 (that story requires a whole separate discussion, for sure!). But she goes on to say that this great God is the one who hears the cries of and lifts the lowly ones, scatters the proud, brings down mighty rulers, sends the rich away empty, fills the bellies of the hungry and fulfills the promises of the ancestors!
Redigan continues her reflection on Mary saying that instead of a passive, polite and quiet woman, this “mother of the Church” is a “young dusty-footed refugee with dirt under her fingernails, a crying baby in her arms, and the government on her back.” [She is a] “tenacious and courageous Palestinian Jewish teenager who crossed borders” and is the “one who interrupts meetings at city hall, who is arrested for waging love..[and] who refuses to stand down and shut up.”
What does Redigan’s portrait of Mary evoke in you?
Over the weekend, Spiritus Christi celebrated our 25th anniversary as a faith community, and it was a wonderful celebration of this amazing community. I will say more on this in future blogs for sure, but for today I will say that Spiritus has tried hard to let the spirit of Redigan’s vision of Mary be our animating force and our guide. This is the Mary we seek to follow and become more like in our faith journey – a Mary who sides with and uplifts the lowly, a Mary who crosses borders, a Mary who challenges and resists the status quo and a Mary who has developed capacities to hold everything in her heart (Luke 2:19).
For today, perhaps call to mind some of the boldest, most out-spoken women change-makers in our world. Reflect on what they value and who they have aligned with. Reflect on what they ask of us as a community. And remember that this is the kind of Mary-energy that we need from everyone in this world. This is the mother of the church who is searching for a place in our hearts and in the world.
3 Comments
Kathy Kearney
Mike, I always saw Mary’s statue and Mary as, ” Magnificent!” In my mind she was always a ruler. The flowing robes she wore only made her magnificence that much more prevalent for me. In my mind, she was way past the clothes she wore. Her mothering heart always shines through. She was and is a mother to us all. No higher archy, no matter how hard they try, can ever take that away. Yes, she is Jesus’ mom, but she is also my mom too.
Thanks, Mike, for the great blog.
Peter Veitch
Thank you, Michael.
I think we need to separate Mary, the actual person in history from Mary, the creation of early Jesus movement storytellers and eventual writers. The boundaries get blurry when we refer to the Mary character constructed in the story of Luke and begin deconstructing the literary character as if she is interchangeable with the actual person in history.
The same is true when confronted with early images. They too were embellished, highly symbolized and need to be understood more as poetry than history.
If we’re getting down to who Mary may have actually been in history, the portrayal of her priesthood as painted on second and third century catacombs may be equally distant from reality as her porcelain handed gospel virginity.
Being neither priestess nor virgin might be incredibly liberating for the average person, male or female.
We have folkloric role models deeply steeped in symbolism we may or may not understand clearly, given the murkiness of our grasp of first century cultural context. While these archetypal constructs can be inspiring, they have little to do with reality.
What I think we are challenged with is understanding the poetry of our ancient Catholic imagination within its cultural context without feeling obligated to create equally artificial depictions based on our contemporary need to understand the story differently.
Peace,
Peter
George Dardess
Beautifully written, Mike. Even better being heard. And of course compelling.
I also believe Mary was a woman of great humor, I mean in the sense of being able to see various sides of an issue or challenge— as for instance when she had to confront Jesus’ “disobedience” in hanging out with the elders during the family trip to Jerusalem. (They appear to have been hanging out with HIM.) A woman of tremendous resilience, flexibility, subtlety.
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