Overview: On Mary

Of all the differences between Catholics and Protestants, the teachings concerning Mary are quite possibly the most contentious. They are also quite unfamiliar to someone like me, coming from a Protestant background. Yet I recognized that, while Marian devotions are often treated as de facto idolatry, it does not follow that they are intrinsically so, nor that we must reject them out of hand as spiritually deleterious.

Thus, after my notes on the Eucharist and on the Saints, a series concerning Marian dogma seemed to me a logical next step.

Mary, Mother of God introduced the topic by reference to the Marian dogma defined by the early Church: her role as Theokotos, "God-bearer." This dogma was asserted at Ephesus to counteract the Nestorian heresy that identified Jesus Christ as separately a human person and a divine person. On the contrary, Jesus of Nazareth was a single person of two natures; thus, the woman who bore him was not merely the bearer of the human Christ (Christotokos), but was the bearer of the full person, human and divine. Mary was the Mother of God.

This initial discussion clarifies several principles at the heart of Marian dogma.

1. Mary's role in salvation history consists entirely in relation to Him; therefore, all Marian dogma originate in the context of Christology. We seek to understand the Son through His Mother, and to understand the Mother through her Son. It is for this reason that, in traditional Catholic and Orthodox iconography, Mary is always seen pointing to her child. It is her role.
2. Marian dogma originated in the early Church and has been in a continual process of refinement ever since. It was not a late addition enforced by the authority of Rome.
3. Marian dogma can be largely interpolated throughout New Testament passages -- that is, they have significant Scriptural support. These passages do not entail such readings in themselves, but that is not their function.
4. Marian dogma developed largely in response to Old Testament typologies: that is, prefigurations of Christ and the New Covenant throughout Jewish history.
   

Mary, Ever Virgin outlined briefly the history of the dogma of the Perpetual Virginity. Its pedigree is from the earliest liturgies and writings of the Church, and by the fourth century it was so firmly grounded in Christian orthodoxy that it would not be denied until well after the Protestant Reformation. The dogma arose in response to a particular typology: the identification of Mary with the Ark of the Covenant. The old Ark contained three elements (the Decalogue, the jar of manna, and Aaron's staff) that were clear antecedents to Christ. From there it was simplicity itself to link the Ark itself (overshadowed by cherubim and bearing the figures of Christ) to Mary Theokotos.

Mary, Full of Grace speaks primarily to the dogma of the Immaculate Conception. This dogma was defined late in church history (initially in the fifteenth century, officially in 1854), but was grounded in the early Church. The Immaculate Conception is grounded in the typological reading of Christ as the second Adam and Mary as the second Eve. On this basis the Church inferred that Mary must have been in a state of innocence at the Annunciation, that she would be perfectly free to choose obedience, and that she would not be bound by a prior nature to sin.

Mary, Queen of Heaven primarily treats the dogma of the Assumption of Mary. The earliest marker lies in the nativity of Revelations 11:19-12:5, which speaks of Mary both as the Ark of the Covenant and as the Mother of God. But the imagery hearkens at yet another typology, from its regal imagery.  From the first verse of Matthew 1:1, Jesus Christ is identified as the Son of David and the rightful heir to the crown. Yet Solomon, who prefigured Christ, afforded great honors to his mother Bathsheba, and the Davidic line preserved the institution of Queen Mother for generations to follow. From this typology -- the relation of Mary to her royal Son -- the Church derived the dogma of her Assumption and her Coronation as Queen of Heaven.

Mary, Mother of the Church primarily concerns Mary's relation to believers today. This final note briefly touches on the typological connections between Mary, Israel, and the Church as the long-suffering servants and stewards of God (from which we derive the idea of Mary as 'co-redemptrix'). Indeed, the typology connecting Mary to the Church extends far beyond the idea of ongoing redemptive suffering. But Mary is not just a typology for the Church, for she is the Mother for another typology: Christ Himself. When Christ commanded the apostle John to take Mary into his own household and treat her as his mother, He addressed this command to all the faithful, all the disciples whom Jesus loved. Thus, Mary is entrusted to us as our own Mother, and receives our love and devotion in that regard. For we are the sons of God as we are brothers in Christ, and we are the children of Mary as we are the Body of Christ.

Having overcome my objections to Marian dogma, my next series of notes would treat the teachings on the Church, and the Catholic emphasis on ecclesiology.

Overview: On the Saints

Protestants don't know how to handle the saints.

It's not that we dislike them. Growing up, I read quite a bit about Eric Liddel and Gladys Alyward and other historical "Jesus Freaks" (DC Talk for the win). Admittedly, some of the biographies I read were so hellaciously boring (I'm looking at you, William Carey) that at times I was ready to cast such books into the fires of eternal perdition. But on the whole I looked pretty favorably on the saints.

Yet another instinct runs much deeper. Protestants churches embody a pervasive attitude of solus Christus and sola gloria Deo: Christ alone, and glory to God alone. I never even heard these phrases growing up, but I never needed to. At a unconscious level, these have defined the central Protestant instinct.  Protestants are terrified of idolatry. The line of demarcation couldn't be clearer: God is God, and we are not.  We fear giving to any creature any glory or honor or respect that properly belongs to its Creator.

Thus, it was quite a journey to arrive at a Catholic theology of the saints from this instinctive Protestant distancing.  The first point on my journey was through the Eucharist. We partake of the same Body of Christ, the same marriage supper of the Lamb, as every other Christian, both living and dead.  This is the foundation of the Communion of the Saints.

The next step in my journey was recognizing the Intercession of the Saints. When I have a problem, I don't hesitate to ask for prayer from one of the many little old ladies sitting faithfully in the back pews of the church. They are holier than me, they are older and more mature than me, and it is natural to ask them for prayer. Now, why does that not apply to the saints who are much older, much wiser, and much holier than me? That is, why doesn't it apply to the saints who now live in the unmitigated Presence of God? Why should I deprive myself of such stalwart company in the faith?

At this point, Protestants get a bit queasy: prayers to the saints?  Indeed, this teaching so disconcerted some of the early Protestant reformers that they actively denied that the saints are alive in Christ. Rather, they advocated a doctrine of Christian mortalism or 'soul sleep.' Yet even John Calvin opposed his fellow Reformers in this regard, and the doctrine could not withstand the combined testimony of all of historical Christendom. To this day, 'soul sleep' is only held by Anglicans and Adventists, and the Life of the Saints is upheld by Catholics, Orthodox, and almost all modern Protestant denomination.

One final point remains. Even if we can accept their intercession, and even if we can submit our prayers requests to the heavenly legions, many would still take issue with honoring them. The Veneration of the Saints is the most direct offense against sola gloria Deo. The instinct is undoubtedly good and God-honoring, yet it misses an important fact. All glory belongs to God; but God chose to honor us. He dignified us by creating us, sustaining us, and most important by becoming Man Himself and including us in the Family of God. He didn't hesitate to honor those faithful to Him, so why should we?  So long as we recognize that all glory is due to Him and springs forth from Him, there is no error and no evil in seeing that glory reflected in others.

Having dispensed with my objections to the saints, the next phase of my journey would be considerably more challenging. For however strongly Protestants wrestle with the saints, we object much more strongly to the teachings On Mary. That was the next necessary obstacle to overcome.

Overview: On the Eucharist

Ironically, it was an atheist who first pushed me to Catholicism.

Several years ago, PZ Myers (a fairly notorious "New Atheist") decided, just for kicks, to desecrate the Eucharist. There was quite an uproar after he posted the pictures online. When I first heard about this incident, I was sickened, disgusted, appalled... words don't do justice to it.

A few months later, I overheard something that affected me deeply. I describe it in my note The Eucharist. In brief: a mother described communion to her young daughter as mere "pretending." Obviously this wasn't an accurate presentation of Protestant views of communion. But this incident, along with the earlier one, forced me to a realization. For the first time in my life, I recognized that there was something unequivocally sacred about the Eucharist.

I also recognized that this instinctual understanding was not derived from my Protestantism. Consciously, my theology was informed solely by memorialism. Communion was a remembrance of the Last Supper: a symbol of the faith and an ordinance to the faithful.

But this was not sufficient. That was the moment I realized my Eucharist theology was entirely and wholeheartedly Catholic. I already believed in The Real Presence; I just didn't have the vocabulary to describe it.

This discovery brought me to another. If Christ is truly present in the Eucharist, shouldn't that be the focus of our attention? Shouldn't it be the centerpiece of our worship? Isn't the Eucharist precisely the foundation to the Communion of the Saints?  Indeed, isn't the Eucharist central to our identity as a Church, as the Body of Christ?

The Eucharist opened the door to Catholicism. My next series of posts, On the Saints, would dismantle the first major obstacle that had kept me out in the first place.