Women's Journal -- The Essential Mary by John McGee

The Essential Mary

by
John McGee

Perhaps the nucleus of the Christian message is most aptly epitomized by the first Christian theologian: "God sent his Son, born of a woman. . ." (Galatians 4:4). While Paul does not name this woman, he establishes for all time the identification of the Savior of the human race. No matter how omnipotent one conceives the Creator, even God cannot create a human being out of nothing (ex nihilo), but only in genetic continuity and relational existence with the living human family. God cannot create a grown man or woman, but only a baby, as all human beings begin. The most important fact about Jesus is not that he did not have an earthly father ("The doctrine of Jesus' divinity would not be affected if Jesus had been a product of a normal marriage"*). Rather, what is essential is that Jesus undoubtedly did have earthly forefathers amd foremothers.
As we learn from later Scripture, Jesus was born of Mary. The process of Mary's giving birth to Jesus has been a matter of contention among Christians. Whether not it was miraculous or vaginal is of secondary significance. Every mother knows that her infant is a miracle and a child of God. Anything that would make Mary more (or less) than a human is a diversion of her role of guaranteeing Jesus' true humanness. The more Mary is seen as like, rather than unlike, all mothers, the more her role is understood, and the better Jesus is understood.
The product of this giving birth was not merely an abstract human "nature," not simply a human body and soul, but a concrete human life, a unique human history. Jesus did not come off God's assembly line, so to speak, a finished product. Like all true humans, he developed. Without human care he would not have survived. Without human love, affection, and interaction, he would have been a psychologically impaired person. Psychologically speaking, his emerging sensorium and psyche were indelibly imprinted in the ways of humans by his first teacher. Theologically speaking, God was not only born of Mary (theotokos), but also enculturated by Mary.
The first heresies contested precisely this humanness by viewing Jesus as solely divine. Mary's mothering, however, was the self-evident refutation. She helps Christianity keep its feet on the ground by discrediting any immaterializing Gnosticism. Unfortunately, an exaggerated piety sometimes tends to sweep Mary off her feet into the realm of fantasy in which she herself is divinized. While technically not a goddess, she often fills this role in unsophisticated consciousness. Any such implicit heresy can only defeat her warrant of Jesus' humanness.
Early Christian writings that were not accepted as part of the church's official Scripture (canon) show how prolific was Christian imagination in fantasizing legends to compensate for the very limited information about Mary in Scripture. Miracles surroundng Mary's birth, her parents, her early life in the temple as a dedicated virgin, and her daily conversations with angels who brought her food are all related to the "Infancy Gospel of James." Joseph is described as a widower whose children are the "brothers," i.e., stepbrothers, of Jesus in order to explain away any threat to the perpetual virginity of Mary.
In pursuit of their own agenda, some church fathers stressed the virginity of Mary to the extent that today it is almost impossible to uncouple the words "Mary" and "virgin." Without going into the current exegetical understanding of the so-called birth narratives, the central message of the first two chapters of Matthew and Luke is clearly the significance of Jesus and not the anatomical status of Mary. Some would queston why Scripture should be understood more literally concerning a gynecological virginity of Mary than a thoracic origin of Eve. Of course, Eve is mythological and anything can be postulated of her, but Mary is a real human being and the question of the extent and duration of her virginity is a factual matter. An interdenominational team of Scripture scholars and theologians agreed that that question cannot be determined by the Scriptures themselves, but must be decided according to one's own faith traditions. When Mary is promoted as a symbol or icon exalting virginity and celibacy, it limits the number of those who can identify with her.
After Constantine and the mutual contamination of church and state, the supreme emperor became an implicit metaphor applied to Jesus. He was cast in the role of absolute ruler, the "pantocreator," the stern divine judge who would punish all offenders. No longer able to approach Jesus in his humanness as their ultimate and irreplaceable link to God, believers gave Mary the supporting role of "approachable" mediator. She became the mediator to the Mediator, and later "Mediatrix" of all graces. In an ironic twist of logic, St. Anne, her mother, and St. Joseph, her husband, then became mediators to Mary in popular devotion.
In medieval Christianity, St. Bernard's epigram "About Mary there is never enough," (de Maria numquam satis) reflected and shaped the unbounded devotion to the Virgin in an age of troubadors and chivalry. Unfortunately, later theologians, in their pursuit of Mariology, have sometimes applied this saying with a lack of due critical perspective. Vatican Council II declined to call Mary "Co-Redemptrix," but recently Catholics of a fundamentalist ilk have launchd a campaign to have this title declared a dogma of faith. In our literal, no-nonsense age, exaggerated honorific titles applied to Mary in apparent competitive fervor are counterproductive.
The desire to honor and glorify Mary is understandable and appropriate, but sometimes the price of excess imagery and symbolism has been forgetting the historical Mary. Just as Hellenistic culture brought to Christianity not only an abstract philosophical mindset, but also vestiges of mythological lore, so too the conversion of the barbarian tribes was not without lingering traces of superstition infiltrating popular piety. In the progression of Marian devotion, many perceptions beyond the biblical became associated with the maid of Nazareth.
In varying historical contexts, Mary became an all-purpose, standby symbol, a screen on which to project unconscious needs. All the imagery of the church as mother was gradually personified in her. Mary became idealized as an abstract symbol of suppressed femininity in a rigidly patriarchal religion. She was placed on a pedestal and crowned with royal prerogatives, making her remote from our experience. The more mythological we make Mary, the more mythological Jesus becomes.
One of the key objectives of the Reformatiom was to rid Christianity of all that was unbiblical. The reformers felt that Marian piety had distorted the Christian message. The countless devotions and doctrines developed in tradition did not fit the criterion of "scripture alone," and the intercessory mediatorship of Mary was contrary to the principle of "Christ alone." However, for Luther especially, Mary was a comfirmation of the principle of "faith alone." Unfortunately, in the polemical atmosphere following the Reformation, devotion to Mary, even in its most exaggerated forms, became a litmus test for identity in popular Catholicism, while in popular Protestantism Mary was surrendered to the opposition. Today Catholicism could benefit greatly from a return to the biblical Mary, and Protestantism could learn much from its own rich theological tradition. The mother must not be thrown out with the bathos.
Some feminists find it hard to identify with Mary, maintaining that the constant emphasis on her humility and obedience supports a partriarchal subordination of women. The important lesson of Mary is not her humility, but her ordinariness. To enter into the community of humans, God did not choose a ruling family or the elite of society, but just very ordinary people, the lowly and the hungry. God's grace is not extraordinary, not only for the exceptional or esoteric -- it is for everyone. Mary is so significant because she is so ordinary, so representative, so much an integral member of the human family. We must be able to identify with her in this human family in order to share in brotherhood and sisterhood with her son. The less we identify with Mary, the less we can identify with her son.
Even more than her physical motherhood, Jesus praised Mary's discipleship, her constantly supportive love, her sharing in his mission to the lowly and oppressed. Implicit in honoring her birthing of Jesus is the need to emulate her bonding with Jesus.
Ecumerical and interreligious dialogue, feminist theology, and liberation theology, as well as personal Christian discipleship, can be notably advanced by retrieving the historical Mary from any false exaggeration or vain credulity.

John McGee studied at the University of Toronto; St. Basil's Seminary and the Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, also in Toronto; and at the University of Innsbruck, Austria. He lectures on theology locally.