Fr Patrick Ponders...: On the Feast of the Blessed Virgin Mary

15 August 2021

Isaiah 61.10-11; Galatians 4.4-7; Luke 1.46-55

Reflection

Today, in the Church of England (and in many churches which keep a church calendar which includes saints’ days) today is the Feast of Mary, the Mother of Jesus, Mother Mary, the Blessed Virgin Mary.

It happens that in the life of the Church over the centuries Mary has sadly been the cause of controversy, disagreement, full-on argument. It may even go right back to the beginning. We know enough to suspect that Mary caused a fuss from the start, as (something like) an unmarried mother. Then, in the early Church, the question was what title Mary might be given, along with her name, Mary. Is she the mother of the human being Jesus? She is that, but is she also the Mother of the Word of God, the Mother of God the Word, the Mother of God the Son? And does this in turn mean that she can and maybe must be called the Mother of God? Not Mother of God in the sense of older than God (that makes no sense) but the Mother of God in the sense that she is the one (the one and only) who bore God, carried and gave birth to God? Overall, the Church decided, yes, she is the one and only who bore God, who carried and gave birth to God.

In the Reformation period, the argument took a different form. It was more about how to honour Mary as the one who carried and gave birth to God. Actually, nobody – or at least no Church – taught that Mary should be worshipped and adored. Worship and adoration are for God alone, God Holy Trinity, God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. But can Mary be honoured, be revered, be venerated? Can Mary be prayed to – not instead of praying to God, but alongside praying to God, as when we ask our friends next to us to pray for us? The wounds of the Reformation are largely healed. But not quite. So this question hasn’t been finally answered in the worldwide Church.

I’d add that alongside these formal, articulated arguments, there is another problem - or at least an “issue” - with Mary. In very many cultures, Mary is thought of as a young girl who is demur, who is, well, shy, who never meets your eye, but gazes downwards, unassuming, silent. Perhaps you can imagine the image I am trying to paint here. You are likely to have seen some such paintings, or sculptures. Well, if we think of Mary as demur in this way, let it be said:

this is wrong.

Think of Mary in today’s Gospel, singing out her own song. It is a song of a world turned upside down. It is a song of God’s victories, God’s own shocking revolution. Mary sees it. Mary sings it. Mary owns it.

Think of when we first meet Mary, in Luke’s Gospel, when the Angel Gabriel addresses her and tells her she is going to give birth to Jesus. She says: “Be it unto me according to your word”. Maybe she said that gently. Maybe. But there are other possibilities. Some say that it was more like a huge shout:

“YEEEEES!”

This idea – a huge great shout – surely gets us closer to the heart of things. If Mary was fit to carry and give birth to God the Son, she must have been able to say Yes to God (to shout Yes to God) in a unique way. In a way – frankly – we cannot, or do not.

Let’s reflect on this.

Do you say Yes to God?

You are here [in Chapel, or reading this, by choice], and so it is quite likely your first answer will be Yes. Yes, I do say Yes to God. And, whatever has brought you here, that answer is right, is true. But, let’s put it another way:

· Is your Yes to God pure?

· Is your Yes to God so full and simple and loving that in certain ways it can carry God in your world and bring God into your world, into your interactions?

That’s a much, much harder question. For all of us. The answer is probably: Sometimes. Usually, our Yes to God is a bit of a mix, a bit of a muddle. It is mixed up with a certain kind of No to God, and the muddle comes out as a Maybe.

Maybe I’ll say Yes to God, providing it’s not too hard.

Maybe I’ll say Yes to God, but it will be easier tomorrow than today.

Maybe I’ll say Yes to God,

but not to do that really frightening thing,

that really embarrassing thing,

that really alien thing,

that really awkward thing,

that really risky thing.

I will limit my Yes to God to the ways I am used to saying Yes to God.

Behind my Yes to God, a certain kind of No, or at least Not Yet, is hiding.

If it’s easy for me to speak about this mix and this muddle, because, of course (you will know or guess) that it is only too typical of my own prayer life, my own life with God. I do think, for many or all of us, it is easy to fall into these “Maybes” these “Yes-but-Nos” without even recognising it.

The life of faith may even be about coming to see them, more and more, and being healed from them.

So for some of us at least, it makes good sense to think of Mary as a hero of the Christian faith. As the greatest hero of the Christian faith. It is like saying:

I cannot say a full-on Yes to God.

My motivations are always mixed.

What I can do is hold onto the coat-tails of this one,

of the one who is the purest Yes-sayer in the history of the world.

If we rely on our friends to get us through (and we do),

here too is one we can rely on.

I don’t know if that makes sense to you.

If it doesn’t, I am really not trying to persuade you.

What I will invite you to do is imagine yourself in Mary’s place,

hearing God’s address to you,

saying: “Carry me in the world”,

and you saying, simply “Be it unto me according to your word”

“Carry me in the world.”

“God, Yes.”

Amen.

Prayers