The Secret Thoughts of Many: Part 2
35 minutes
Part 2: Mary, Christ, and Christian Hope
Some Context
Before addressing the Marian questions, I would like to speak about the little-known, incredibly important theological virtue of hope. There’s so much to say here, and too little time to say it convincingly, so I’ll cut right to the chase: Hope is the virtue of seeing and of deciding to believe that God will do, and, indeed has already done, all the good that God can do. Hope does not fail, because when we hope, we put our deepest and noblest desires in the hands of a God who can do all things. I cannot justify this statement now, but I also know that all genuinely prayerful people recognize the mystery I’m talking about. Because when we hope we are like children raising our arms toward an all-powerful father, a father who cares about our hopes, who has, in fact, authored those very hopes within us, we also know that whatever authentic goods we perceive, He also perceives, and shall accomplish. (Has already accomplished?)
Speaking to this Christ says, “Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you receive it, and you will.” (Mark 11:24)
One could multiply quotes from the saints along these lines, but one of my favorites is Ambrose’ counsel to St. Monica regarding Augustine that “the child of such tears could not be lost.” This is the shocking, daring side of prayer – that we are to pray for good things with confidence (Hebrews 4:16.) True, in the path to Augustine’s conversion, God didn’t do each thing Monica wanted, even if she believed that He would, but He did do that good thing that her heart really desired, of which the proximate goods for which she prayed were but means – He saved Augustine. And this is an important point for those who, out of misguided but perhaps well-intentioned “humility,” are inclined to pray for good things in a very hypothetical, uncertain manner. They think that God wants them to approach Him as we would a stern Roman emperor, making our requests, but not being surprised if we’re disappointed; or else, that He wants us to regard the desires of our hearts as petty, merely human concerns that are not supernatural enough to be worthy of his time and power. Forgetting, perhaps, that man is made in God’s image and likeness, a part of them suspects that God looks on our noblest hopes and thoughts as sci-fi aliens from popular mythology do; that is, as if human dreams were but the confused jabberings of misguided inferiors.
On the contrary, Christ commands us to pray like children who hassle their fathers with a thousand hopeful requests for good things, and who don’t even seem to hear Him when He says “No” (see the Syrophoenician Woman; Mark 7:24-30.) He validates the nobility of our best thoughts and hopes by commanding us ask, and to just assume He’ll do the best thing. Our requests don’t have to be for “big” things either. Just big to us. Consider, for example, his interaction with Mary at Cana in John 2:
“Son, they have no wine.”
“Woman…[pick your favorite translation] My hour has not yet come.”
“Do whatever he tells you.”
This brief conversation tells us more about prayer than almost anything in Scripture. Mary sees a good that is very important – once could say essential – to the human heart, and brings it to Jesus’ attention. Imagine the humiliation for this young couple if the wedding wine ran out! She informs Christ, knowing that by the mere act of informing Him and placing the matter confidently in His hands, He will take care of it. Christ seems to refuse His mother, and then (strangely) alludes to his “hour” (a phrase that everywhere else refers to His suffering and death.) Unperturbed, Mary proceeds as if her request had already been granted. What cheek! But that is what praying with faith and hope looks like. It’s a bit unsettling.
Now multiply the desires of one Christian heart by a thousand. Ten thousand. A million. What noble goods have prayerful Christian hearts perceived over the centuries? What truths so beautiful, so compelling to a human heart stirred by grace, that they became quiet certainties, waiting for authoritative confirmation? What implications of true doctrine to which the sensus fidelium, the minds of the Christian masses under the influence of the Holy Spirit, were gradually moved, until they became private convictions? It is against this backdrop, and in light of solid Christology, that we can perceive the truth of the Marian teachings.
Mary’s Perpetual Virginity Revisited
I’ve already noted that the case for or against Mary’s perpetual virginity cannot be definitively made from Scripture alone, nor from the first and second century Church Fathers. Starting with the early third century (210 A.D. and after) I am not aware of anyone aside from Helvidius (writing 383 AD) who disputed her ongoing virginity, but that this opinion was “out there” can be inferred also from writings of Epiphanius, whom we’ll mention later. In any case, Helvidius is known to us only because Jerome was so outraged by Helvidius’ suggestions that he wrote a famous tract defending what he portrays as the common belief of Christians at the time; namely that Mary was ever-virgin. Jerome’s scriptural arguments are well-known. Rather than rehashing them here, let us simply note the common (even if not absolutely universal) character of belief in Mary’s perpetual virginity in Jerome’s time, and then we’ll show that Christian piety is indeed qualified to arrive at this as the correct answer, despite Scripture’s lack of total clarity on the matter.
First, consider who Christ is: Jesus is the eternal Word of God, made flesh. He is not half-God, or the greatest angel, or the highest demigod, but the very I AM, God from God, Light from Light, eternally-begotten of the Father. He is the whole substance of God in the Person of the Son, poured out from all eternity from the infinite depths of the Father, God looking back at God, and now united forever to a human soul and a human body in one fully divine, fully human Person, Jesus Christ. Now consider that Mary, being both the material of His own saving flesh, and the vessel which bore Him, bears a natural analogy to other, less crucial vessels, throughout salvation history. Consider – in both the Torah and the Prophets – the absolutely meticulous care with which vessels of God’s presence were made ready for Him, and consider out of what fine materials God constructed that which housed or presented His Person to Israel. Based on what we see in the Old and New Testaments, how does God view it when a vessel of his Presence on earth is put to common use? What happens to Uzzah, for example, when he accidentally touches the Ark (2 Samuel 6)? How does Christ respond when he sees the Temple of Jerusalem turned into a marketplace?
So that is one consideration: Vessels of God must always be made of what man himself considers to be the finest possible materials, and then set apart. John the Baptist, “filled with the Holy Spirit from his mother’s womb” (Luke 1:55) was one such vessel. Christ Himself is the ultimate example. Both were entirely celibate.
Mary’s body not only housed the Almighty, but it was the very material of which the Logos fashioned His own spotless, eternal body. And God Himself overshadowed Her (Luke 1:35.) Let this sink in a moment.
Second, consider what is implied about Mary’s relationship with the Blessed Trinity. She is truly and actually the Mother of Christ, Who, as we’ve already noted, is the whole substance of God. God is one what, one being. Jesus is not a third of that being, but all of Him, in the Person of the Son. This is why we do not say “in the names of,” but, rather, “in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” God is one substance, and He is Three Divine Persons. Mary, as Elizabeth proclaims under the prompting of the Holy Spirit, is the true Mother of God (Luke 1:43. But we are also told that God the Holy Spirit, not Joseph, will overshadow Mary, and that He will conceive a Son in her womb (Luke 1:35.) Mary is therefore the spiritual spouse of the Holy Spirit.
Does spouse seem too strong a phrase? Well, consider the alternative: God, Who regards spousal love and spousal generation as exclusive and sacred, used Mary, a very holy but otherwise completely normal woman, as a birthing vessel in order to accomplish His plans. True, He could have just created the body of the New Adam ex nihilo and then instantly joined it to the Logos, but He instead chose to use Mary. Afterwards, having gotten what He wanted from her, He did not maintain any special spousal relationship with this woman whose body He was happy to make use of. Does that sound like God to you?
Perhaps Zeus, but not God! Surely, a heart that loves and knows God cannot believe that His supernatural act of overshadowing Mary could be less real, and less binding than the act that inaugurates and maintains a normal human marriage, and which begets children. Finally, Mary, like all Christians, is a daughter of God. Indeed, it begins to look like she’s a living icon of the relationship between the Trinity and Man, a human prototype of the Church. (See Revelation 12.)
In summary, though the text of Scripture itself does not definitively decide the matter, Christian hope does. We know what sort of God we worship, and we therefore know that He cannot be the sort of God who would make Mary a birthing vessel of the Holy of Holies, then put that relationship aside, as men in Christ’s day put a woman aside with a writ of divorce. Even if we dismiss the text-based evidence that Mary was childless at the time of the crucifixion (John 19:26-27,) and that she never intended to have sexual relations with Joseph (Luke 1:34,) and even if we assume that, prior to the Annunciation, Joseph was just a pious man intending a normal Jewish marriage, can we imagine that afterwards he would dare to touch her whom God had overshadowed? Would you, my friend? Would you? That is why I say that whoever, having fully considered these matters, still maintains that Mary and Joseph went on to have sexual relations, is not thinking with Christ. His ignorance may be excusable; he may simply not have had occasion to put all these considerations together before him at once. Still, it is ignorance of God’s character and of God’s ways.
Mary’s Sinlessness
All Christian’s believe that Christ was Mary’s savior. For the great mass of Christians who have ever lived, salvation for Mary included an abundance of grace to preserve her from all personal sin, at minimum. For Catholics, who have a very worked-out account of original innocence and of the types of grace, and of the specifics of the Fall, the corporate act of reflecting on all these matters together, and then in relation to Mary, led to a growing conviction that she must also have been preserved from Original Sin. This conviction was eventually held so universally throughout the Church that it was recognized as the true Christian doctrine, and was defined as a dogma to be held by all the faithful. The process by which doctrines and truths, from proper Christology, to the very contents of Scripture, are gradually and more fully understood over time – their consequences and implications bumping into each other, and leading to a greater fleshing-out of the Gospel until the teaching Church, guided by the Holy Spirit, is prompted to define them – is called development of doctrine. Christ gives us two very good images of it in Scripture, and these I will illustrate later on in this essay. For now, let us turn to the seeds of these doctrines as found in Scripture, or as evidenced by the earliest Christian apologists and teachers, in order to help us see why Mary must be sinless.
Mary’s sinlessness and her perpetual virginity are related, but distinct truths. Now there is nothing remotely sinful about sex. Sex in its proper context is holy, and good, and delightful to the God who created it. God does not hesitate to describe his relationship with Israel in spousal terms. The Song of Songs is full of images of romantic pursuit, and of the exclusive yearnings of human love. These are also icons of God’s relationship with his people Israel; and, by extension, of Christ’s relationship with the Church as Bride (Ephesians 5:22-33.) The Triune God relates to man according to multiple dimensions, and one of those dimensions is “romantic.” But romantic love is also exclusive, and it requires an appropriate degree of both commonality and distinction between lover and beloved – otherwise it would be unimaginably wicked. As for commonality, we are already made in the image and likeness of God, and, by grace, Peter tells us that God makes us “partakers of the Divine Nature” (2 Peter 1:4,) a statement that would seem beyond belief were it not the very essence of salvation.
As for distinction; well, we are creatures, and He is God. However, I am here interested in what degree of “commonality” is necessary for God to be in intimate union with man without violating justice, or even the consistency of His own character. God’s holiness is never diminished. Creatures in perfect union with God, though always in a sense infinitely less than Him, must also posses His own eternal life in order to be made truly worthy of Him. For example, nothing unclean, nothing that has not been rendered both perfect and worthy of God, can enter Heaven. The great “challenge” that God set Himself when He decided to create us was, “How can the created be truly united to the Creator? How can justice be merciful, and mercy just?” This “challenge” became an apparently unsolvable problem when Adam and Eve fell. But in the infinite ingenuity of God’s love, He solved it.
Returning to Mary, consider first her spousal relationship with God. Throughout the Old Testament, when God comes to dwell in and overshadow a place, He first requires that that place, and the materials of which it is composed, be without blemish. These holy places, themselves elevated above what is common, nevertheless become gateways for God’s entry into the common world, the very same world that his Presence and intermingling with will then sanctify, elevate, and raise up to the heights of Heaven. Now of all the holy places and holy people through whom God has communicated Himself to the world down the ages, there was only one that would contain and nourish God Himself, and only one from whose body the body of His own spotless Son would be formed. Given all that we have said above, this plainly suggests that Mary would especially be prepared, formed, and rendered worthy for this singular office.
I will not get into the question of whether Mary, in a strict, technical sense, had to be sinless. Perhaps it would not actually contradict God’s nature to form Christ from the flesh of a fallen mortal, while simultaneously preserving Himself from any real contact or contamination from that mortal. The question is would He do this? Does that sound consistent with His character?
Certainly ours is a God who finds a way to bridge the unbridgeable distance between his infinite, perfect immensity and our finite, and yet further broken humanity. But how does He do it? Always by setting apart, and rendering as holy as possible, the vessels, places, or persons by whom He enters the world so that He can meet sinners where they are. In Christ, God entered concretely and definitively into human nature and history by actually becoming one of us, forever. But in doing so, would He have acted contrary to His demonstrated way of approaching us? Would He show us thousands of years of rendering holy the persons and things that would transmit or contain his holiness, only to do less when the Holy One Himself appeared on earth?
Or, rather, would He first make most holy she of whom the saving flesh of the Most Holy was made, and of whom He was born? Reflecting on these things, the earliest Christians to take the matter up in writing almost universally agreed that the vessel of the Spotless One was, by grace, rendered spotless. Indeed, almost all Protestants, when pressed with these considerations, will admit that Mary must have been very holy, because the contrary is unthinkable. But to admit that is already to admit that when we consider such questions as Mary’s holiness, we must – and cannot avoid – doing so in the light of God’s character and preferences as revealed throughout salvation history, and in light of our own noblest sentiments about the same. In other words, it will not do to say that being human we are in no position to speculate about what God might have done, or to have opinions about what would or would not have been consistent with His revealed character. Such minimalist reasoning puts us at odds with Christ, who, on repeated occasions, chided his listeners for daring to imagine that God would be less generous than their wildest imaginations of Him (see below.) He expected them to read His actions in the best possible light as determined both by His revealed actions, and by what standards would meet or exceed human concepts of goodness. But all of this is only by way of preparation, for there are very sound Scriptural reasons for thinking that Mary was without sin.
We start with the book of Genesis where God takes Adam, the first man, and forms him from the dust of the earth. Whatever else may have been going on with development of life on Earth, Eden was set apart as a spotless place. One supposes God could have made Adam from the slime of some snake-infested swamp outside the Garden, and, of course, the imagery in Genesis is literary, not literal. Yet symbolic or not, it is true. The truth God shows us here is that He makes the first man from fresh, unspoilt creation, just as He later insisted on pouring new wine only into new wine skins. Now we know that Christ is the New Adam, the firstborn of many children (i.e. all the elect.) It is highly appropriate that He be born of a fresh ground, set apart, and cordoned off in some way from the corruption of sin. So Mary, the material of which He was made, ought to be pure ground.
Yet Genesis contains more pointed evidence than that. After the Fall, we are given a prophecy about Mary, Christ, and their conquest of the Devil. God, speaking to the Enemy says:
“I will put enmity between you and the Woman, and between your offspring and hers. He will crush your head, while you lie in wait for his heel.” (Gen 3:15)
This first Gospel or protoevangelium announces the whole plan of salvation in one succinct sentence, and it includes Mary. Because the Devil has engineered the self-condemnation of Man through the Man and the Woman (as they’re called in Genesis 2,) God will save mankind through a Man and a Woman. Not only that, but He will turn the Fall on its head. The offspring of the Woman will be the very Adam who conquers Satan. But note the character of this Woman, and how her mission is being swept up in, and included in that of her offspring: “I will put enmity between you and the Woman.” Who is this woman locked by God in a state of war with the serpent? She is not Eve, at least not directly. Perhaps you will say she is Israel, or the Church, which seems closer to the truth (ignoring, for a moment, that Israel is also an unfaithful bride, and therefore falls quite short of “enmity” with the Devil.) Yet those latter possibilities only refer to the corporate or communal dimension of “Woman.” Surely, the main sense of the passage suggests a particular woman, one fixed in a state of war with the Devil, and whose child goes to war with the Serpent, and slays him. Her role is subordinate to that of her offspring, but far from peripheral. Does the New Testament give us any hints that Mary’s role is wrapped up in Christ’s in precisely that way? You bet it does:
And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the babe leaped in her womb; and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit, and she exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.” (Luke 1:41-42)
And again, later:
And Simeon blessed them, and said to his mother, “Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is spoken against, and a sword will pierce your own soul as well, that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.” (Luke 2:34-35)
That’s twice in just a few pages that Mary’s person and mission are described in terms that are parallel but subordinate to Christ’s person and mission. He is blessed; she is blessed. He will be spoken against (and pierced,) as will she. But what about language that contrasts Mary with her forerunners in salvation history, and with the rest of creation?
“Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.” (Luke 1:45)
Here Elizabeth, specifically under the impulse of the Holy Spirit, contrasts Mary to her forebear Sarah, a woman, and a universal mother, who was given a lesser promise of miraculous generation, and who doubted that promise. Elizabeth may also be drawing the same parallel that Luke, in his arrangement of material, draws when he contrasts Mary’s form of faithful questioning (“How shall this be since I know not man?”) with Zechariah’s Sarah-like doubting question (“How shall I know this, for I am an old man?”)
In John’s gospel, Mary is positioned at the beginning and at the end of Christ’s redemptive mission. In what cannot be a coincidence, she whose faithful surrender made possible the appearance of Christ on Earth is also there to request the very first miracle, and one – turning water into wine at a wedding – that also images the Church itself as Christ’s Bride. She is also there at the end, to witness his crucifixion, and to receive her mission as mother of the faithful (the Body of Christ,) just as she is actual biological mother of Christ (John 19:26) Shortly after this, the God who turned water into wine at her request, now pours forth water and blood, as his heart is pierced. Finally, though some may dismiss his addressing Mary as “woman” as mere polite formal speech, John shows us a woman with child in Revelation 12. It’s a complex image, to be sure. She seems to be the Church itself, but she’s also identified as the mother of Christ, and of Christians. Yet the text goes out of its way to identify the Dragon with the Serpent, which again takes us right back to Genesis, to Eve, and to that first promise of salvation through a woman and her offspring (Genesis 3:15.)
These parallels were not lost on the earliest Christian apologists, the very same men who transmitted the Scriptures to us, who defended the Faith against pagans and Gnostics heretics, and who held onto it, often at the cost of great suffering. Are we to trust the accuracy of their witness only when it comes to the transmission of the Scriptures, and not to the content of basic Christian theology? Here’s what some of them have to say about Mary and Eve:
He became man by the Virgin, in order that the disobedience which proceeded from the serpent might receive its destruction in the same manner in which it derived its origin. For Eve, who was a virgin and undefiled, having conceived the word of the serpent, brought forth disobedience and death. But the Virgin Mary received faith and joy, when the angel Gabriel announced the good tidings to her that the Spirit of the Lord would come upon her, and the power of the Highest would overshadow her: wherefore also the Holy Thing begotten of her is the Son of God;2333 and she replied, ‘Be it unto me according to thy word.’ ”2334 And by her has He been born, to whom we have proved so many Scriptures refer, and by whom God destroys both the serpent and those angels and men who are like him; but works deliverance from death to those who repent of their wickedness and believe upon Him. (Justin Martyr, Dialogue with Trypho, A.D. 155)
And again, in Irenaeus:
In accordance with this design, Mary the Virgin is found obedient, saying, “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.”3747 But Eve was disobedient; for she did not obey when as yet she was a virgin. And even as she, having indeed a husband, Adam, but being nevertheless as yet a virgin (for in Paradise “they were both naked, and were not ashamed,”3748 inasmuch as they, having been created a short time previously, had no understanding of the procreation of children: for it was necessary that they should first come to adult age,3749 and then multiply from that time onward), having become disobedient, was made the cause of death, both to herself and to the entire human race; so also did Mary, having a man betrothed [to her], and being nevertheless a virgin, by yielding obedience, become the cause of salvation, both to herself and the whole human race. And on this account does the law term a woman betrothed to a man, the wife of him who had betrothed her, although she was as yet a virgin; thus indicating the back-reference from Mary to Eve, because what is joined together could not otherwise be put asunder than by inversion of the process by which these bonds of union had arisen;3750 so that the former ties be cancelled by the latter, that the latter may set the former again at liberty. And it has, in fact, happened that the first compact looses from the second tie, but that the second tie takes the position of the first which has been cancelled.3751 For this reason did the Lord declare that the first should in truth be last, and the last first.3752 And the prophet, too, indicates the same, saying, “instead of fathers, children have been born unto thee.”3753 For the Lord, having been born “the First-begotten of the dead,”3754 and receiving into His bosom the ancient fathers, has regenerated them into the life of God, He having been made Himself the beginning of those that live, as Adam became the beginning of those who die.3755 Wherefore also Luke, commencing the genealogy with the Lord, carried it back to Adam, indicating that it was He who regenerated them into the Gospel of life, and not they Him. And thus also it was that the knot of Eve’s disobedience was loosed by the obedience of Mary. For what the virgin Eve had bound fast through unbelief, this did the virgin Mary set free through faith. (Against Heresies, A.D. 189)
It is possible to multiply such quotations, but these are quite early, and they make the point. The Gospels themselves, as well as the overall sweep of salvation history, and the Genesis 3/Revelation 12 connection in particular make a profound case for Mary as a kind of Second Eve, bearing the Messiah while imaging the Church, and as someone whose mission was particularly swept up into, and in some way parallel to Christ’s — though in a subordinate fashion. She is not the main event of Christianity, but she plays an absolutely crucial role. When we place all these considerations before us – Mary as the material of which Christ’s saving human nature was fashioned; Mary as the vessel of the Almighty One; Mary as that other pierced one; Mary as that other blessed one; Mary whose very voice made the greatest of all prophets jump for joy in the womb; Mary as the Sarah who believed the greater promise; Mary as the New Eve; Mary as image of Holy Israel, Mary as a proto-type of the Church, espoused to God and receiving and bearing the Good News – then the idea that God could have rendered her spotless, but did not, is simply unsustainable in the Christian mind, heart, and imagination.
Let me close this section then by quoting St. Ambrose, along with his spiritual mentee, St. Augustine, whom Protestants rightly admire:
“Come, then, and search out your sheep, not through your servants or hired men, but do it yourself. Lift me up bodily and in the flesh, which is fallen in Adam. Lift me up not in Sarah but from Mary, a virgin not only undefiled, but a virgin whom grace made inviolate, free from every stain of sin. (Ambrose, Commentary on Psalm 118 22:30, A.D. 387))
“We must except the holy Virgin Mary, concerning whom I wish to raise no question when it touches the subject of sins, out of honor to the Lord; for from him we know what an abundance of grace for overcoming sin in every particular was conferred upon her who had the merit to conceive and bear him who undoubtedly had no sin.” (Augustine, Nature and Grace 36:42, A.D. 415)
There you have it, the mind of the Church on whether Mary committed actual sin. But, you will notice that Augustine’s careful phrasing implies that the matter had not been fully settled, at that date. If so, this explains how it would be possible for the rare holdout like Chrysostom to critique her for ambition at the Wedding at Cana (completely missing the whole point of that passage, as we’ll see in Part 3.)
And if the question of mere sinlessness had not been dogmatically settled at that date, still less would the Church have settled the “mechanism” of how she could have been rendered sinless. After all, all men are descendants of Adam and Eve. To even begin to ask the question about how grace rendered her sinless, we must first have a thorough understanding of human nature before the Fall, its proper powers with and without sanctifying grace, as well as the actual nature of the Fall itself, what it means to have sinned in Adam, what grace is, and what it does, and whether or not there are different kinds of grace, and so on. Now each of these connected questions must be answered on its own, and then put back together again, if one is to begin to approach the question of Mary’s sinlessness. That’s why these things take time.
Most of the early Christian heresies were attacks on Christ. Some of these naturally impacted Mary, because Our Lord derived the physical dimension of His human nature by generation from her. Yet the conservatism of the Church that held onto and further explicated the essential truths about Christ also embraced, partly in consequence of this conservatism, a further explication of the holiness of Mary. This eventually permitted the Church to formally address and define the body of Mariology that had either been transmitted from the Apostles, or had developed in consequence of what was transmitted.
Without making this already overlong section even longer, we’ll simply note what the Church actually arrived at with respect to the manner of Mary’s sinlessness. The Immaculate Conception of Mary is the singular act by which God saved Mary from the Fall by intervening at the moment of her conception to apply in advance the fruits of her son’s sacrifice. She was also flooded with graces and infused virtues, making it possible for her to accept her mission, and to avoid all actual sin. Her act of self-surrender, her “Yes” to God, was both the fruit of God’s many gifts to her and a completely free and praiseworthy act. If this seems like a contradiction, consider the state of the blessed in Heaven. They are entirely free, and yet will never voluntarily sin again. They will never choose it, because like Mary (Luke 1:28) and because of Jesus (John 1:14) they are filled to the brim with grace and truth. Mary’s total surrender – and her perfect freedom – are a beautiful image of how grace saves and makes us truly free.
Mary’s Ongoing, Essential Intercessory Role in Our Salvation
Let’s start with this: Jesus is still true God, and He’s still true man. The Incarnation is a permanent fact about reality, one which alters everything that comes after it, and one which anticipates and fulfills everything that preceded it. Too often, we confuse the “once and for all”-ness of Christ’s redemptive work with the idea of a Gospel story that happened “once upon a time.” We tend toward a kind of Christian deism that makes Christ’s redemptive work a remote fact of the past, a switch that was tripped back then, and whose particulars we need not revisit, because the thing has already been done.
On the contrary, we ought to see the Gospel story as the eternal moment in which all other moments, before and after, are made to participate. This is why Jesus, who can longer suffer, asks Paul, “Why do you persecute me?” That is why Jesus, who is safe forever with the Father nevertheless says at judgment, “When I was hungry, you fed me. When I was naked, you clothed me,” for though He no longer suffers, He is present and suffering in all who suffer now. If this be paradoxical, make the most of it.
Now this is the form that the eternal moment takes: God ever comes to mankind through an act of faithful surrender. He is forever born in that quiet stable. He forever lives a quiet human life in our village, hiding in the persons and events all around us. He forever walks publicly among us, proclaiming the truth. He forever works miracles. He continues to call disciples, and sends off some of them as apostles. He forever takes us aside and teaches us deeper things. He is forever made present to us in the breaking of the bread, so that He can fulfill his promise to be Emmanuel until the end of time. And yes, though He died once, never to suffer again, He is still persecuted in the person of His Body, and in all victims of sin. And yes, though He rose once and for all from the dead, He rises again every time He takes a dead soul and makes it alive in Him. And yes, though His sacrifice was once-for-all, that same singular sacrifice is offered among the nations until the end of time. “For from the rising of the sun to its setting my name is great among the Gentiles, and in every place incense is offered to my name, and a pure offering.” (Mal 1:11)
Now it is true that once-upon-a -time God broke into our world through the faithful surrender of one particular holy virgin, that her mission and her suffering participated in some way in His, and that His victory over the Devil was shared with her, as with all Christians. But that moment, like all the others, spills backwards and forwards in time, from Genesis to the Apocalypse. Christ did not simply crash into the earth like a meteor, one that does its work, then settles after impact. The consequences and implications of that crash spill backwards to creation, and forward to Parousia. Note that in Revelation 12, Christ appears in Heaven as a baby born to a woman, and destined to rule the nations with an iron rod. The Gospel event happened once for all, but it also provides the exemplary form according to which that event is made present in time.
Now just as Mary, the prototype of all Christians, “pondered and treasured all these mysteries in the silence of her heart” (Luke 2:19,) the Church also ponders all her own mysteries in the silence of her heart. One of these mysteries is Mary herself, the Virgin whose role spans from Genesis to the Revelation. And in pondering her, the faithful recognized a critical dimension of salvation: that of human receptivity.
John the Baptist says, “No one can receive anything except what has been given him from Heaven.” (John 3:27) The Gospels also tell us that Christ was not able to work many miracles where people lacked faith (Matthew 13:58.) In another place, Christ heals a blind man, but it takes several steps, as the latter seems to gain confidence in His power only as he sees more and more (Mark 8:24). In other places, He chides men for their lack of faith, or asks them if they believe that He can heal them. It turns out then that interacting directly with Christ is not always as simple for us as we’d like. This is because the very capacity to receive grace is itself a grace, and it requires that we have a degree of trust and surrender whose very possession is itself a consequence of the trust and surrender that obtains grace. In other words, spiritual life is a lot like natural life. You must already be alive to do the things that increase life. How does God bridge this gap? How, when we are too crippled to approach Him as we ought, can we even stand up enough to go to Him?
The answer, first and foremost, is by the power of the Holy Spirit, who knows that we don’t know how to pray, and who therefore “intercedes for us with inexpressible groanings” (Romans 8:26.) But, just as we see Christ continually using created things to miraculously heal us (John 9:6), even if he doesn’t “need to,” we’re also shown clearly in Scripture that the Holy Spirit uses creatures as the instruments of His intercession. This is why we humans must pray for each other, and for ourselves. That is also why we’re shown the story, in all three synoptics, of a paralyzed man depending entirely on his friends’ faith and holy ingenuity for his own healing and salvation.
Now pondering all these things in the silence of her heart, the Church came to see that one creature in all of Scripture was the perfect material instrument of the Holy Spirit. The very same Virgin who said, “I am the handmaid of the Lord; be it done unto me according to your will,” remains, for all time, His eternal handmaid. We know that Jesus thirsts to pour out His blessings on sinners. We also know that the Holy Spirit uses created instruments as the material causes of that outpouring (Acts 1-2,) thus fulfilling God’s mission of drawing all of creation to Himself through Christ (John 12:32.) Mary, whom all generations will call blessed (Luke 1:48,) is that created instrument. This is appropriate because, as we’ve already noted, she’s both the mother of the faithful, and the mystical spouse of the Holy Spirit. Just as she was pierced with Christ, so she groans with the Holy Spirit as she labors to bring forth His brothers and sisters (Rev 12:2.) She is that perfect created trust, that helpful, creative friend, the created side of the Holy Spirit’s intercessory work, which allows us to much more quickly and easily approach the throne of grace with a spirit of boldness. But what do the Fathers of the Church have to say about it? Here’s more from that mightiest of second century Christian apologists, St. Irenaeus:
Or how shall man pass into God, unless God has [first] passed into man? And how shall he (man) escape from the generation subject to death, if not by means4271 of a new generation, given in a wonderful and unexpected manner (but as a sign of salvation) by God—[I mean] that regeneration which flows from the virgin through faith? …Again, there are those who say, “He is a man, and who shall know him?”4303 and, “I came unto the prophetess, and she bare a son, and His name is called Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God;”4304 and those [of them] who proclaimed Him as Immanuel, [born] of the Virgin, exhibited the union of the Word of God with His own workmanship, [declaring] that the Word should become flesh, and the Son of God the Son of man (the pure One opening purely that pure womb which regenerates men unto God, and which He Himself made pure); and having become this which we also are, He [nevertheless] is the Mighty God, and possesses a generation which cannot be declared. (Against Heresies, 4:33, portions of chapters 4 and 11, emphasis mine.)
And here is Clement of Alexandria (150-215 A.D.,) head of the first Christian academy in Alexandria:
But the Lord Christ, the fruit of the Virgin, did not pronounce the breasts of women blessed, nor selected them to give nourishment; but when the kind and loving Father had rained down the Word, Himself became spiritual nourishment to the good. O mystic marvel! The universal Father is one, and one the universal Word; and the Holy Spirit is one and the same everywhere, and one is the only virgin mother. I love to call her the Church. This mother, when alone, had not milk, because alone she was not a woman. But she is once virgin and mother—pure as a virgin, loving as a mother. And calling her children to her, she nurses them with holy milk, viz., with the Word for childhood. Therefore she had not milk; for the milk was this child fair and comely, the body of Christ, which nourishes by the Word the young brood, which the Lord Himself brought forth in throes of the flesh, which the Lord Himself swathed in His precious blood. O amazing birth! O holy swaddling bands! The Word is all to the child, both father and mother and tutor and nurse. “Eat ye my flesh,” He says, “and drink my blood.”1122 Such is the suitable food which the Lord ministers, and He offers His flesh and pours forth His blood, and nothing is wanting for the children’s growth. (The Instructor of Children, 1:6, emphasis mine.)
While it is true that Clement, like his student Origen, held a number of speculative theological positions that the Church later condemned, or else expressed caution towards, these teachings above – which illustrate much of what I’ve been saying about Mary, and her role in the dispensation of grace, her imaging of the Church, her intercession and maternal relationship toward the Christian, and even her participation in the miracle of the Eucharist – were never among those condemned. On the contrary, they were just basic Christian teaching for centuries, and were here contained in a manual of Christian theology at the world’s first Christian school.
There are many, many more examples of early Mariology, but the ancient liturgical hymn, the Sub tuum praesidium, is perhaps the most instructive:
Beneath your compassion,
We take refuge, O Theotokos [God-bearer]:
Do not despise our petitions in time of trouble:
But rescue us from dangers,
Only pure, only blessed one.
That it’s a liturgical hymn, and that versions of it exist in all the apostolic churches, puts it beyond doubt that prayer to, and veneration of Mary has been a feature of Christian belief from very early days. The law of prayer is the law of belief. In other words, what the Church prays together, in a formal manner, is not some theological speculation of a few avant garde theologians. This article goes into greater detail about the hymn’s origins, its dating, and its variations.
Before moving on to what may be the most challenging Marian doctrine – her bodily assumption into Heaven – let us summarize the argument so far:
Every ancient apostolic Church confesses Mary’s perpetual virginity, her preservation from personal sin (at minimum,) her supreme holiness as the Mother of God, her status as a second Eve, and her unique and ongoing role in the work of her Son, which includes some role in obtaining and dispensing grace.
The bald text of Scripture alone does not decide the first two matters, though it does provide evidence for them.
There is good textual evidence from Scripture for the others, but nothing in Scripture puts this evidence together in a formal manner.
Some very early Christian devotional works (The Infancy Gospel of James, the Odes of Solomon, The Ascension of Isaiah) witness to early Marian piety, and to belief in her virginity in partu (meaning that God preserved her from bodily damage in the act of giving birth) and/or ex partu (meaning that she had no relations with a man after Christ was born.)
The Apostolic Fathers, who were close in time to the Apostles, certainly believed that Mary was the New Eve, and that she played a role in the dispensation of grace (see Justin Martyr, Irenaeus and Clement above.)
A majority of Christians by the time of Ambrose believed she was free of all personal sin, and was ever-virgin, and these beliefs are also rooted in the her ongoing relationship to God the Son, and to her spiritual spouse, God the Holy Spirit, as well as in the sensum fidelium, the prayerful ponderings of the faithful about what was most fitting for God to have done.
Finally, note that much of this doctrine predates Nicaea, and that all of it predates the first local councils to consider the canon of the New Testament, not to mention predating most of the major ecumenical councils, which councils – when they considered any of these questions – either decided in their favor, or used language that simply assumed their truth. Given this history of belief and development, we should say something about development of doctrine, and the Deposit of the Faith, before moving on to Mary’s bodily assumption.
The Deposit of the Faith, and the Development of Doctrine
Being an American, I naturally think of the Deposit of the Faith as a sort of fixed quantity; something like a pile of artifacts, or a list of propositions. This fixed quantity is passed down from generation to generation, with the main job of the faithful being to understand it, and to preserve it intact without addition or subtraction. By this reasoning, the Deposit of the Faith consists of only those doctrines, inspired writings, and practices that were explicitly extant at the time of the death of the last Apostle, John the Evangelist. But this account of the Deposit of the Faith is incomplete.
For one thing, truth cannot work exactly like that; for another, this image contradicts Christ’s own statements about his Church. Regarding the first, consider just how much work the Church had to do from its earliest days in combatting heresies. The list of early heresies is as long as your arm, and most of these attack one or more aspects of Christ’s divinity, His humanity, or the Triune nature of the one God. In the course of combating heresies, expressions like “Trinity” and “hypostatic union” (or their equivalents) came into use, and it was also necessary for the Church to develop language and philosophy for discussing personhood, freedom, grace, the particular material signs Christ instituted to communicate grace, and a whole host of related things. Many of these words and concepts were not explicitly in the minds’ of the Apostles. They couldn’t be, because the occasions for articulating them had not arisen. So truth needs articulation and explication, and this articulation needs to be as authoritative as the truth it articulates, or else it can have no definitive purchase on the faithful. Yet truth has another important dimension: it is fecund.
Living things grow, and articulate themselves, according to the inner logic of their own being. To be alive is to have a whole host of properties, expressions, and even certain variations which reveal inner being. Nothing in existence is “just there.” Even a piece of obsidian has a certain luster, a certain capacity to be chipped and shaped, a certain way that it will respond to extreme heat or cold, and so on. To be is not only to statically exist, but also to express one’s being. When it comes to things that are alive, either literally, or figuratively, this fecundity is far more pronounced. Living things, such as seeds or stories, develop — and they interact with other living things. I am not speaking here of alchemy or Darwinism, of the transformation of one definite kind of being into another. I am talking about the unfolding of being that was always there, but not fully expressed. And among living things, persons are the most fecund, for they are capable of being centers of intelligent agency, and of doing genuinely new things – but not of truly bringing about things that are incompatible with their natures. (The attempt to do so is, of course, sin.)
Now the Church, being the Mystical Body of Christ on Earth, ensouled by the Holy Spirit, is in some sense a person. She must grow and act in history, and must be able to do new and wonderful things in order to nurture the world where She finds herself. Yet She must always remain true to what She is, without adding anything that is not part of the same fundamental source of her being, and without subtracting or undermining anything that makes her Herself. With this thought in mind, we turn our attention to that embryonic content, the Deposit of the Faith. How does Christ say it works?
Jesus uses a number of prophetic analogies for the working of the Church in history, but the parables of the mustard seed and of the householder are especially useful here. The mustard seed starts out as the smallest of seeds, but grows into a tree-sized plant, one large enough for birds to come and nest in its branches. Consider how a seed contains, in some sense, all of what that later tree will be, though not yet in mature expression. The substance, the essential “fixed” nature of the tree is there from the beginning, but neither all the branches, nor the fruit, nor the bark, nor the colors, nor many of the articulated particulars have been manifested. The pattern and history of a tree’s growth also tell us something about its local environment; about the quality of soil, and the prevailing winds, and so on. These aspects of a tree’s growth apply perfectly to the idea of a Deposit of the Faith that is “fixed” and yet develops over time. The young mustard shoot is not “better” or “purer” than the later stages; if anything, it is less fully realized, though formally speaking, it is the same. The shoot needs to grow, and express its particular nature, and it does so in the context of an environment that partly determines how and when certain of its interior qualities will be expressed.
And let us not forget that living things must articulate themselves. Doctrines, like life forms, cannot remain in dead isolation, like rocks in a pile. They must interact with each other. Embryologists tell us that as the first cell divides and multiplies, each cell begins to take on a specialized role, even though each cell has exactly the same “fixed” DNA. The amazing thing is that the process that drives this growth is both vertical and horizontal. On the one hand, there is some kind of idea of what it means to be this mustard plant, a form that seems to animate the whole process. Yet on the other hand, each cell is reacting to every other cell, as if the very act of multiplying and differentiating helped tell this cell that its job is to be an A cell, not a B cell. The natal Deposit of the Faith is the same. Each event, doctrine, and practice had its place in the natal Church, and public revelation of this content did end with the death of the last Apostle, and yet this deposit was also just the newborn shoot, the embryo that still had to grow and develop, revealing more and more of its true appearance until the end of time.
Meanwhile, living things must also act in history, at times very remote from those when they originated, which brings us to the Parable of the Householder. After giving the apostles numerous analogies about the Church, Christ asks,
“Have you understood all this?” They said to him, “Yes.” And he said to them, “Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of Heaven is like a householder who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.” (Matthew 13:51-52)
And this expresses perfectly the relationship between the “fixed” dimension of the Deposit of the Faith, and its development and articulation in the course of the life of the Church. The trained scribe has the authority to bring forth even new things from that fixed store of treasure. In doing so, he is not adding to the essential Deposit, but discovering what was already there, even if it was not really seen until that moment. Thus we have a view of a faith that, under the guidance of trained scribes, and finally bounded by an authoritative Church, can act and respond in history, and yet not in a way that either adds foreign content to public revelation, nor (and this one is important for certain “Catholic” thinkers to remember) in any way that subtracts from or alters that revelation. No one may therefore say, “Such and such cannot be part of the Faith, because I found a saint or Father who thought otherwise, before the matter was formally considered and decided by the Church.” And, likewise, no one, not even a scribe trained for the kingdom (i.e. a bishop or priest,) may dare say, “This aspect of faith or morals may now be discarded, because of new pastoral circumstances, and the development of doctrine of course.”
Finally, any kind of intellectual development requires a certain amount of mystery, and a certain amount of freedom to think and act within the confines of that mystery, until the truth is established. And that is how we can truly say that on the one hand, Marian teachings – now much more fully articulated – have always been components of the True Faith, while on the other hand, a great saint like John Chrysostom can formerly have been ignorant of one of them, without either his being retroactively regarded as a heretic, or his position as a proof against the continuity of doctrine. With these distinctions firmly established, we are finally in a position to discuss that most unexpected of Marian teachings, her bodily assumption into Heaven.
Mary’s Bodily Assumption into Heaven
No Catholic teaching seems so “out of nowhere” as the doctrine of Mary’s bodily assumption into Heaven. This is the doctrine that Mary, at the conclusion of her time on Earth, was taken up body and soul into Heaven. This same doctrine is confessed by all of the branches of Orthodoxy, the Coptic Church, the Ethiopian Orthodox, and the Catholic Church. Some Anglicans, who retain much of the external appearance and content of Catholicism — though their apostolic succession has unfortunately been broken — also believe in the Assumption. For perspective, in all of Christendom, only a stem on a twig of a branch within the umbrella of Christians baptized in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit does not also confess the Assumption of Mary. But the doctrine has no confirmed paper trail before the fourth century. So where did it come from?
As to where – whether as a tradition passed down from generation to generation among some pocket of Christians, or else as a mature reflection upon the consequences of other truths that were passed down, or as some combination of the two – I do not claim certainty. I freely confess to preferring the idea that there is a solid oral tradition about the Assumption, one which goes back to the Apostles. Early-ish apocryphal writings like those found in Transitus Mariae accounts, may provide some evidence of an oral tradition, but they are not nearly as useful as would-be a quote from the likes of Ignatius of Antioch, or Polycarp of Smyrna, or even of Irenaeus. But preferences aside, I know of no mention of the Assumption in the Church Fathers before Epiphanius of Salamis, circa 350 A.D. His vociferous defenses of many of the doctrines addressed above could easily be quoted at length, but here are the only two quotes I was able to find pertaining to Mary’s bodily assumption:
1,3 For I dare not say—though I have my suspicions, I keep silent. Perhaps, just as her death is not to be found, so I may have found some traces of the holy and blessed Virgin. (4) In one passage Simeon says of her, “And a sword shall pierce through thine own soul also, that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.” 35 And elsewhere the Revelation of John says, “And the dragon hastened after the woman who had born the man child, and she was given the wings of an eagle and was taken to the wilderness, that the dragon might not seize her.” 36 Perhaps this can be applied to her; I cannot decide for certain, and am not saying that she remained immortal. But neither am I affirming that she died. 11,5 For scripture went beyond man’s understanding and left it in suspense with regard to the precious and choice vessel, so that no one would suspect carnal behavior of her. (Panarion: Antidicomarians, 11:3-5)
And, more strikingly:
5,1 For what this sect has to say is complete nonsense and, as it were, an old wives’ tale. Which scripture has spoken of it? Which prophet permitted the worship of a man, let alone a woman? (2) The vessel is choice but a woman, and by nature no different [from others]. Like the bodies of the saints, however, she has been held in honor for her character and understanding. And if I should say anything more in her praise, [she is] like Elijah, who was virgin from his mother’s womb, always remained so, and was taken up and has not seen death. She is like John who leaned on the Lord’s breast, “the disciple whom Jesus loved.”12 She is like St. Thecla; and Mary is still more honored than she, because of the providence vouchsafed her. (3) But Elijah is not to be worshiped, even though he is alive. And John is not to be worshiped, even though by his own prayer— or rather, by receiving the grace from God—he made an awesome thing of his falling asleep.13 But neither is Thecla worshiped, nor any of the saints.(Panarion: Collyridians, 5:1-3)
What strikes me about the quotations above is what they reveal about the official state of doctrine concerning Mary and her Assumption at the time they were written (circa. 350 A.D.) On the one hand, Epiphanius, who in this work sets out to refute the heresies of his day, is as spirited a defender of Mary’s sinlessness and perpetual virginity as any modern Catholic. He also confesses the view – one he seems almost reluctant to speak out loud – that Mary was taken up bodily into Heaven, just like Elijah. And yet he does not quite insist on its certitude in the same way he does her perpetual virginity, etc. Moreover, the context of the second quote is Epiphanius' refutation of exactly the sort of Mary-worship that Protestants fear Catholics engage in. Even at that early date, Marian devotion was so widespread that there was an aberrant form of it; and yet this ancient Father still affirms a form of belief in her bodily assumption. Certainly he would be reluctant to do so, particularly in this context, if the belief in her Assumption were not already shared by some of his peers, for otherwise, by admitting this belief out loud, he would only be giving more ammunition to the Mary-worshippers he was trying to refute.
One last point that Catholic apologists often make is that, in the context of the early Church, there ought to have been relics of Mary’s body. After all, there are thousands of relics (or, the cynic may say, alleged relics) of the other Apostles, saints, martyrs, and biblical figures. It should be obvious that worshippers of an Incarnate God would want to have relics of the only physical connection left on Earth – aside from the Eucharist, in which they all believed – to that same Incarnate God. Why on Earth would there be no physical traces of Mary?
Now I do not have an exhaustive understanding of how and when relics were preserved, and cannot therefore fully check this claim by Catholic apologists. Yet I have to assume that critics of the Assumption, had they evidence for ancient claims to relics of Mary’s body, would long ago have happily brought forth such evidence in their writings. That they have not done so suggests that the Catholic apologists are correct on this point, and that there never were any relics of Mary’s body. And, just as curious, not even claims to have them (though there are claims to relics of Mary’s hair.) Still, I will take a minimalist approach in order to build a theological case for Mary’s assumption based on what we’ve established. First, let’s summarize the data so far:
From the second century, prominent Christian thinkers whose views should be taken as typical understood Mary as the Second-Eve, and the Mother of Christians.
As prophesied in Genesis, and as confirmed by Simeon and Elizabeth under the direct inspiration of the Holy Spirit, Mary played a unique, parallel role in our salvation.
As affirmed by a Christian sense of the Incarnation’s temporal and eternal implications, and as also as confirmed by the Apostolic Fathers, Mary’s divine maternity, and some role in the dispensation of grace, continues in the present moment for all Christians.
From the earliest days, at least a considerable portion of Christians believed in Mary’s perpetual virginity, and by the time of Nicaea, virtually everyone did.
It is unthinkable that Mary had normal spousal relations with Joseph after becoming supernaturally espoused to the Holy Spirit, and after having given birth to God’s child. It is equally unthinkable that Joseph would dare to have relations with her under those circumstances.
From very early on, and as a consequence of her status as the New Eve, and as the choice vessel of God, considerable numbers of Christians believed Mary to be without sin. By the time of Augustine (if not earlier,) nearly every authority took the same view.
At minimum, by the time of Epiphanius some authorities took at least the private view that Mary was bodily assumed, and that same view only increased in popularity among all branches of the Catholic Church, even being incorporated into public worship and the liturgical calendar, until it had the status of normal Christian doctrine by the time of the last Church Father, St. John of Damascus (c.675-749 A.D.)
It has been the general norm of Christian belief since then, from the East to the West.
Okay, now let’s look at the basic reasoning from Christian piety that historically led to the belief that she was assumed into Heaven:
Since Mary was without sin, she would not have suffered the penalties of sin, namely death and corruption. (If, like Christ, she died, this would only be in some manner or for some cause parallel to and subordinate to His own holy death, but not as a penalty for sin. Even if she died, she could not have undergone bodily corruption).
Since Mary did not sin or suffer the corruption of sin, she was ready at the end of her mission on Earth to experience the fullness of Christian glory, body and soul.
Since Mary’s salvific role was parallel but subordinate to Christ’s (Gen 3:15, Luke 1:41-42, 2:34-35, Revelation 12, Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, and others) it most appropriate that her ending be parallel but subordinate to Christ’s.
Since Mary, the Second Eve and the Spouse of the Holy Spirit images the Church, the Bride of Christ (being the Eve that flowed from His pierced side on the Cross,) her own ending ought to image the final destiny of the Church.
Though Mary was the most venerated of all early saints, and though the relics of venerated saints were highly coveted and carefully preserved, Mary left no bodily relics.
If it was possible, in justice, for Christ to take Mary body and soul to Himself, then He would have done so.
It was possible, because there was no obstacle, in justice, for Him to do it.
Therefore He did.
Now it is important to note that this is not a traditional “proof” so much as a series of converging considerations. I have also left out appeals to oral traditions about the Assumption because a layman like myself can form no opinion as to their actual antiquity or provenance, and it would be too easy for me to simply agree with those authorities who trace such accounts to the second century. But even aside from oral traditions we can see how the belief in the Assumption became universal among Christians, even to the point of being incorporated into Eastern and Western liturgical calendars. She is the Woman of Genesis, blessed with and by her son, and pierced in parallel with her son. As he was raised, glorified, and ascended into Heaven, so the faithful concluded, she would also have been raised up to Heaven, and glorified.
And this last point brings us full-circle. Who are we to dare say what God should or would have done? Even conceding that the virtue of hope is the supernatural confidence that God necessarily will do the best, most wonderful, and most beautiful thing, isn’t it presumptuous to assert that we know how He would do that?
In particular cases, yes, that may be so. It is possible for us, like St. Monica, to pray for X because we incorrectly think X will get us to Y, where Y is indisputably the will of God (e.g. that Augustine be saved.) However, in the case of Mary, we do know what the best possible thing is, because God has consistently revealed His own standards to us, standards from which He never falls short, but only exceeds. We know God’s plan for every Christian’s bodily glorification, and we know that separation from Him, and the corruption of death, are only the consequences of sin. Therefore, despite out fallibility, we can feel all but certain that if God had the option to either leave the New Eve behind on Earth, or take her to Himself as soon as possible, He would have done the latter, just as He will at the end of time with His Bride, the Church. And it is none other than Christ Himself who insists we interpret God’s behavior according to our own noblest ideas of what the best God would do:
And he said to them, “Which of you who has a friend will go to him at midnight and say to him, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves; 6 for a friend of mine has arrived on a journey, and I have nothing to set before him’; 7 and he will answer from within, ‘Do not bother me; the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything’? 8 I tell you, though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, yet because of his importunity he will rise and give him whatever he needs. 9 And I tell you, Ask, and it will be given you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. 10 For every one who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened. 11 What father among you, if his son asks for[b] a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent; 12 or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? 13 If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” (Luke 11: 5-11)
Nicode′mus said to him, “How can this be?” 10 Jesus answered him, “Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand this? (John 3: 9-10)
Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, “O man of little faith, why did you doubt?” (Matthew 14:31)
And it has often cast him into the fire and into the water, to destroy him; but if you can do anything, have pity on us and help us.” 23 And Jesus said to him, “If you can! All things are possible to him who believes.” 24 Immediately the father of the child cried out[e] and said, “I believe; help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:22-24)
“Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. 22 And even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you.” 23 Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.” 24 Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.” 25 Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life;[d] he who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, 26 and whoever lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” 27 She said to him, “Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, he who is coming into the world.”…When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled; 34 and he said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” 35 Jesus wept. (John 11: 21-26; 31-35)
Why does he weep? Jesus hates death. He hates that we suffer. But most of all, He weeps at our confusion, our suspicions of Him, and at the fact that we often attribute a coldness to Him that we’d hardly suspect of a perfect stranger. Over and over, He insists that we look at who He is, that we do so in light of our own best ideas about goodness, and that we conclude that He not only meets those hopes and dreams, but necessarily exceeds them. And are we to believe that this God would be offended at us prayerfully and slowly considering His mother in light of His own known character throughout the ages, and coming to a certain conclusion, based on that hope, that He did same thing for His unblemished mother that the worst Christian would do for his, had he but the power and justification for doing so?
In light of all the above, there can be no doubt that the Christian faithful, “pondering all these things in the silence of [their] heart[s]” were justified in coming to a quiet but always-spreading belief in the New Eve’s bodily assumption, whether or not there was a specific body of traditions going back to John. That the institutional Church’s own notorious doctrinal conservatism did not reject, but rather gradually embraced this view, is yet another sign of its authenticity, and of the fact that the Church did not regard the Assumption as some novel doctrine that no one had ever heard of. The greater question is this: Given the fact that the Word of God is alive, and has all the attributes of living things that grow and unfold over time, who in the Church possesses the authority to declare that the sense of the faithful on a certain matter represents the true sensus fidelium, that is, the authentic Christian conviction, formed in them by the Holy Spirit?
Another question remains: If these things about Mary are both true and important, why were they “secret thoughts” that had to be “revealed” rather than propositions stated plainly in Scripture? Finally, what are we to make of those passages that seem to humble and correct Mary? I will take up these questions, and close my essay, in Part 3.