Mary, the Mother of God, a title which we as Catholics allow to easily roll off our tongues in prayer and affirmation of faith, is a title with a fascinating history. As the early Church fathers attempted to more clearly understand Jesus and to explain his human and divine natures, the question as what to make of Mary’s role in salvation history always followed. It is a testimony to her perceived and realized importance that the church never considered a dogmatic development as to the nature of Jesus without also defining Mary as his mother.
The Eastern Churches (Orthodox and Byzantine Catholic) use the powerful title of Theotokos (God-bearer) to understand her role. The Greek terminology, though foreign to our ears, is more succinct and pointed perhaps than the Latin equivalent of Mater Dei (Mother of God). Yet both titles are borne of the same dogmatic developments from the first ecumenical councils of the Church.
Mary as the Mother of God becomes then very closely identified with Eve, the mother of our humanity. While Genesis explains that she becomes the “mother of all the living” Mary becomes our mother in the idealized and spiritual way. She is what we aspire to be in our human struggles, yet she is what we can never be: the sinless one who stands next to the Son who reigns for eternity.
The powerful role of the Regent Mother known in Hebrew as gebirah was a formal and significant position throughout the history of the Davidic kingdom. The mother of the King (also known as the “Great Lady”) was the most important woman in the kingdom and stood as an advisor to the son. She literally assumed the throne next to him, positioned in such a way as to be the literal queen of the Davidic kingdom. The kings of Judah often had many wives who assumed various roles, but with only one mother, the role of the queen mother was to assume the throne next to the king.
It is this role that Mary takes in the Kingdom of God. That she carries this role is testified in Revelation (21).
So today we celebrate the Solemnity of Mary’s motherhood. It is an eternal motherhood, one for which she was prepared through her Immaculate Conception and the announcement of the Angel Gabriel that she would bear the Son.
We also know that at the foot of the cross Jesus gives to John – and hence to the entire Church – Mary as Mother. It is also made clear that she is not just the Mother of the man Jesus, she is Mother of God. She bore not the son of Joseph but the Son of God. She participated in our salvation (and her own) by bringing forth into the world the Second Person of the Trinity, the incarnate Logos, the divine one. While some church fathers in the fifth century argued that Mary is the mother of Jesus but not of the divine nature, the two are inseparable. The Edict of Union (433) affirmed Mary as the Mother of God and no further challenges to that title developed in a significant way until the Protestant Movement over a thousand years later. Much of the fifth century struggle was in defining the nature of Jesus more so than of Mary per se.
Today we know Mary as Mother of God in a singular and beautiful way, but in a way that often does not allow her humanity to shine forth as a living and real example. The Gospel passage on this solemnity reminds us that, “Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart.” Here she stands with us, as we continually contemplate the wonderful and awesome deeds that God does in each of our lives. It is through the power of the intercession of the Blessed Mother that we experience the merciful and loving face and power of Jesus Christ as she continually reminds him of our humanity, our weakness, and our desire to be with her for all eternity.
January 8 – Like the Magi, we are all on a pilgrim journey
Epiphany! God is with us.
When these strange figures called the magi embarked on their arduous journey to find the “newborn king of the Jews” they were unsure as to what they would find. While certainly familiar with the legends and history of the ancient Jewish people and their kings, they would have had little sense of their present political and religious reality. Undoubtedly they expected a royal birth in the line of the reigning king, Herod the Great, who was yet but a vassal to the Roman Senate. Herod was an old man and had many sons, so exactly what the magi thought the omen in the heavens meant we are unsure.
What we do know is that they were so taken by what they saw that they made a pilgrimage and brought forth rather symbolic and expensive gifts to present to the small child who would someday reign as king.
They did not find any semblance of a royal birth when they arrived in Jerusalem. Indeed they found a king who had no idea of a royal birth, but who seems savvy enough to realize the messianic implications of this announcement.
When they arrived in Bethlehem the magi and their entourage found merely the modest home of a sheep herding family. There were no royal trappings, no centurions standing guard at the gate, no attendants looking after the needs of the child and his family. They encountered a simple family, going about their family business on the family farm which they likely held for centuries.
This is a very meaningful message for those who seek the Lord but are not sure who are what it is that they are actually seeking. So often we want, as did the ancient peoples, the majestic and miraculous; what we often find is the quiet and the simple, the regular events, moments and places of daily life.
Yes, we can experience a deep sense of awe when we enter St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome or St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York, and while they are spectacular, Christ is no more present there than he is in our own parish church or adoration chapel. The realization of the presence of God comes to us in the midst of our daily life, our ordinary experiences, the signs and wonders that are often known only to us.
We do not know what the magi saw. A star, yes, but it was a star unique to their observation and experiences. The people of Judea were not in awe of a new star pointing to Bethlehem; the Romans were not sailing across the Mediterranean to follow a star. No, it was men devoted to star gazing and prognostication based on the stars who saw whatever it was that they saw. They even lost sight of it when they got to Judea and had to get directions to Bethlehem anyway!
We all have that star that guides us – and sometimes it guides only us – to the encounter with the living God who then says to us – “I am with you”. This is our own epiphany, the realization that God is with us – with me – on my journey. However you seek him, continue that search and look, consult the Scriptures and the teaching of the Church, until at last your star settles atop the place where you are called to encounter the living God.
Father Garry Koch is pastor of St. Benedict Parish, Holmdel.