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.

Mary, Mother of the Church

Over the last several posts I've examined Catholic teachings on Mary, from Old Testament typologies to New Testament references to the early church traditions and the four major Marian dogmas.

Yet these will seem insufficient for most Protestants to explain Mary's centrality in actual Catholic practice. It is easy to see the unprecedented distinction of the Annunciation and the magnificent faith in her Fiat. I can also readily concede her essential function in salvation history, for Mary was in a sense the gatekeeper of the Incarnation. But that only scratches the surface, only gets us as far as doctrine. Whence the rosaries, prayers, devotions, and apparitions?

The answer, naturally enough, lies in another set of typologies.

In my post on the Immaculate Conception, I wrote that Mary's "justly-celebrated fiat is one of the defining moments of Creation: the pinnacle of all the patriarchs, of all the prophets, and all the people of God." This is true on its own, but hints at a deeper truth.

On the one hand, the nation of Israel may be seen as a typology of Mary.

My Bible's study notes on Revelations 12:1 states that the image of the woman in labor, giving birth to the child Christ, is "probably a symbolic reference to the believing Messianic community." This is, on its face, a pretty clear attempt to avoid a Marian interpretation of the passage. However, that doesn't mean they aren't both true. Mary is the fulfillment of Israel -- she is prefigured not only by the Ark of the Covenant and by the Temple, but also to a certain extent by all the key women of Israel's history: Miriam, Rahab, Deborah, Hannah, and Bathsheba, among others. They are the threads in the tapestry of Mary's life.

The people of Israel were prepared from the days of Abraham precisely for the arrival of the Messiah. They were to be the nation through which all nations would be blessed. In the same way, Mary was prepared from before her birth to be the vessel of Christ's Incarnation, to be the woman through which all of humanity would be blessed.

There is another sense in which Israel prefigured Mary, for the history of the Jews is one of slavery and suffering, of a painful purification and ultimately redemptive suffering. Israel typifies Jesus, for He is the ultimate example of suffering unto goodness. But we cannot forget the words of Simeon when Mary brought the child Christ to the Temple:

Behold this child is appointed for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and for a sign to be opposed -- and a sword will pierce even your own soul -- to the end that thoughts from many hearts will be revealed (Luke 2:34-35).

This, incidentally, is what Catholics mean when they address Mary as "co-redemptrix." It is not a title to diminish Christ's sacrifice, nor to imply that Mary was in any way responsible for our atonement or salvation. It merely indicates that Mary shared in the suffering of her Son's agony. Can we begin to fathom the mother's anguish, as she watched them torture her Son, as she stood before Christ hanging on a cross (John 19:25) and watched Him take His final breaths?  Her soul was pierced by sword just as surely as his side was pierced by spear. 

Yet Mary does not suffer alone. She suffered just as all Christians are called to "take up their cross daily" (Luke 9:23), and for the same reason that Paul wrote, "in my flesh I do my share on behalf of His Body, which is the Church, in filling up what is lacking in Christ's afflictions" (Colossians 1:24).  Christ redeemed suffering, and conquered death. The stain of sin, the evil of fallen nature, has become in His hands a vehicle of perfect love. This is why the Church glorifies the martyrs, and why the lives of the saints are marked with suffering.

In this way, Mary is herself a typology of the Church.

This extends far beyond an understanding of redemptive suffering. Mary is truly the archetypal Christian. From her first appearance she expressed the Fiat, those undying words of faith: "Behold, the handmaid of the Lord; may it be done to me according to your word" (Luke 1:38). "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior," she cries in the remarkable Magnificat (Luke 1:46-47). Luke repeats several times during his early chapters that Mary "treasured all these things, pondering them in their heart" (Luke 2:19, 2:51, et al.), holding firmly on to the deposit of the faith.

Perhaps most notable is Mary's role at the beginning of the Gospel of John:

On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there; and both Jesus and his disciples were invited to the wedding. When the wine ran out, the mother of Jesus said to Him, "They have no wine." And Jesus said to her, "Woman, what to me and to you? My hour has not yet come." His mother said to the servants, "Whatever he says to you, do it (John 2:1-5).

Some Protestants have claimed that Jesus' words in this passage actually marginalize and diminish Mary. This strikes me as an error, if only because Christ could not have violated the commandment to "Honor thy father and mother." His address to Mary as "Woman" is actually considered evidence for the typological reading of Mary as a second Eve, and this passage is sometimes considered in that light. The question itself is sometimes translated as an almost bemused "What does that have to do with us?" (NASB) or the more notoriously dismissive "What have I to do with thee?" (as in the King James translation). In fact, the literal translation -- "What to me and to you?" -- is a well-worn Hebrew idiom that is basically an open-ended interrogative, meaning "Why are you here?" or "What is your question?" In this case, especially in light of Mary's response, the likeliest interpretation would seem to be a simple "What are you asking of me?"

Just before the Transfiguration, Jesus asks His disciples, "Who do the people say that I am?" (Luke 9:18) They respond with a litany of long-dead prophets. "But who do you say that I am?" The question is open-ended, and (importantly) precedes any statement by Jesus Himself that would provide an answer. This is the moment of the Petrine confession, the first point in the Gospels in which Jesus is revealed to be divine. "You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God" (Matthew 16:16). Peter's confession was a leap of faith.

In the same way, Jesus' question to Mary at Cana is not leading but open-ended, allowing room for Mary's response of faith.  In this moment Mary does not presume to direct her Son, but merely expresses her reliance on His will and her readiness to obey, by placing her servants at His disposal. As a result of this, Christ directs the servants to fill the massive jugs with water and pour them for the guests, turning the water into wine. It is once again Mary's expression of faith that propels the next movement of the Incarnation: His first miracle, that launches His public ministry.

Mary is a typology for the church. But she is also the mother to another Type: Christ Himself.

Is it really necessary to cite the many passages in which Christians are called to model ourselves after Christ, to live in Christ, to clothe ourselves with Christ? Let it suffice to say, that as His disciples we walk in His steps.

If indeed Christ lived without sin, and if indeed we take Him at His word that He came "not to abolish but to fulfill" the Law and the Prophet, then we see that Christ obeyed the precepts of the Law. Specifically, He obeyed the commandment to honor His father and mother. This, then, is why Catholics honor Mary, for they seek to imitate His life in that manner too.

John never names himself in his Gospel, but only identifies himself as "the disciple Jesus loved." I suspect this is partly out of an almost coy modesty, but it is at least partly done to invite other Christians to walk beside Christ for themselves, to see through his eyes and bear witness to the Gospel. This invitation should help us understand a passage from John's account of the Passion. Hanging on the cross before His death, "when Jesus then saw His mother and the disciple whom He loved standing nearby, He said to His mother, 'Woman behold, your son!" Then He said to the disciple, "Behold your mother!" From that hour the disciple took her into his own household" (John 19:26-27).

Christ is a type for the Church, for the life of a disciple, and He gave to the great disciple the command to take the Mother of God into his household and honor her accordingly. This is Catholics mean when they speak of Mary's "spiritual motherhood of the Church." If we live in Christ, we will live out His respect for her, and treat her with the love and devotion proper for a child to give his mother. Mary is the mother of the Church.

Mary, Queen of Heaven

In my earlier post on Mary's perpetual virginity, I mentioned how the Roman Catholic Church interprets the Ark of the Covenant as a typology, an Old Testament prefiguration of Mary in her role as Theokotos. There are two New Testament references to the Ark of the Covenant. The first, found in Hebrews 9:4, contains a description of the Ark and a brief explanation of its significance.  The second is found in the Apocalypse of St. John, better known as the book of Revelations. The seventh trumpet has sounded, and the twenty-four elders worship God "because You have taken Your great power and have begun to reign" (Rev. 11:17).

And the temple of God which is in heaven was opened; and the ark of His covenant appeared in His temple, and there were flashes of lightning and sounds and peals of thunder and an earthquake and a great hailstorm. A sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars; and she was with child; and she cried out, being in labor and in pain to give birth (Rev. 11:19-12:2).

The Ark of the Covenant was the single holiest object in the Jewish faith, which had disappeared after the destruction of Solomon's Temple. Its recovery was, next to the long-awaited Messiah, the most anticipated event of the Jewish people. Yet here, as the Ark is being unveiled, John swiftly transitions into describing a woman in the throes of labor pains, about to give birth "to a son, a male child, who is to rule all the nations with a rod of iron" (Rev. 12:5) -- a universally acknowledged reference to Christ. Is this a coincidence?  The Ark of the Covenant is revealed in the same breath as a woman giving birth to the son of God. Indeed, the entire chapter can be read as the story of the Nativity, seen in a cosmic light. Even the Holy Family's forced exodus to Egypt and Herod's slaughter of the innocents (recorded in Matthew 2:13-18) are obliquely referenced.

The most straightforward interpretation of this passage is that John is speaking of Mary. Both her prefiguration in the Ark of the Covenant and her status as Mother of God are directly referenced in this passage. In what exalted light do we now perceive Mary: clothed with the sun, the moon under her feet, with a crown of twelve stars? Indeed, this is the very imagery employed in the iconography of the early Church.

Veneration of Mary as the "Queen of Heaven" relies on an Old Testament typological reading of the Davidic monarchy. Even from the first verse of the New Testament, Jesus is identified as "the Son of David." This title is most frequently used in the Gospel of Matthew, which focused on Christ's role as King of the Jews. One of the common elements shared by monarchies in the Ancient Near East, including the Davidic line, was a respect and veneration for the "Queen Mother." This was partly out of practical necessity, what with the prevalence of polygamy, but it was also derived from the tremendous respect and value these cultures located in families and in elders. This is, after all, the very culture from which we learned the Commandment to "Honor thy father and mother."

There are a few passages which hint at the role of the Queen Mother in court politics; the one cited most often is 1 Kings 2:12-20. After the death of David, Solomon ascended to the throne, "and his kingdom was firmly established."

Bathsheba went to King Solomon to speak to him for Adonijah. And the king arose to meet her, bowed before her, and sat on his throne; then he had a throne set for the king's mother, and she sat on his right. Then she said, "I am making one small request of you; do not refuse me." And the king said to her, "Ask, my mother, for I will not refuse you" (1 Kings 2:19-20)

There are several noteworthy elements of this story. First, Bathsheba was interceding on behalf of Adonijah, the king's brother, and the text indicates that the Queen Mother was regarded as an advocate for others. Indeed, Adonijah himself said that if Solomon would not refuse him if  Bathsheba made the request (2:17). Second, when Bathsheba entered, Solomon stepped down from his throne and bowed to meet her, demonstrating a degree of respect for the Queen Mother that would be inconceivable if applied to anyone else. Third, Solomon gave his mother a throne and set her up at his right hand, confirming her elevated rank and his filial devotion to her. Fourth and finally, he encourages her request and reinforces her intercessory role.

In this particular case, Bathsheba was being used by Adonijah as an unwitting foil in preparation for a rebellion.  However, the principle remains, as did the power of the Queen Mother. The 'lamenting prophet' Jeremiah is commanded to "speak to the king and the queen mother" (Jer. 13:18). This verse is commonly interpreted as referring to Jehoiachin and his mother Nehushta, the same queen mother who is given primacy of rank when Nebuchadnezzar exiled them to Babylon in 2 Kings 24:15.

The Catholic Church teaches that Jesus, as the rightful heir to the Davidic kingdom, had a throne set for his mother Mary. This elevated station is confirmed by John's vision in Revelation, which reveals Mary in undeniably regal imagery. Her active role as the Queen Mother is seen and reinforced by a third Catholic dogma: the Assumption of Mary.

The assumption is the most recent of Marian dogmas to be defined, in the Apostolic Constitution of 1950, and it is the only one defined by the Pope speaking ex cathedra (that is, following the Vatican I formula of papal infallibility. In this work, titled Munificentissimus Deus, Pope Pius XII declared

By the authority of our Lord Jesus Christ, of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul, and by our own authority, we pronounce, declare, and define it to be a divinely revealed dogma: that the Immaculate Mother of God, the ever Virgin Mary, having completed the course of her earthly life, was assumed body and soul into heavenly glory.

I'll leave discussion of papal infallibility for a later post, but for now a few pointers.

The first thing to note is that this dogma does not affirm that Mary was taken up into heaven before her natural death. The Eastern Orthodox Church explicitly confirms the death of Mary in their parallel dogma ("the Dormition of Theokotos) and this understanding is actually shared by most Catholics.

The second point is that this doctrine affirms Mary's special relationship with her son Jesus, and also her son's steadfast devotion to the Law. Jesus sought to truly honor His mother, and her bodily assumption into heaven is a testament to that.

The third point, and this cannot be repeated enough, is that Christianity has always affirmed a bodily resurrection. The only special privilege allotted to Mary is that her bodily resurrection preceded the final resurrection shared by all believers. Indeed, as far as I can tell, this is the only reason for a separate dogmatic definition. The dogma of the Assumption affirms that Mary prefigures the whole body of believers, the entire family of God.

In this way, Mary is herself a typology for the Church.

Mary, Full of Grace

In my last post, on Mary's perpetual virginity, I discussed the typological significance of the Ark of the Covenant, which contained the law of Moses -- the written Word -- as a prefiguration of Mary, who would bear the Word made flesh.

Exodus 34:29 tells us that when God wrote the words of the Law on the stone tables and gave them to Moses, "the skin of his face shone because of his speaking with" God. Moses' face shone so greatly from His Presence that he was obliged to wear a veil, to avoid blinding his terrified countrymen who gathered at the base of the mountain. 2 Samuel 6:7 reminds us that when these words were placed in a vessel of acacia wood, the resultant Ark of the Covenant was so unimaginably Holy that to touch it meant instant death.

With such passages in mind, what should we then think of the Jewish girl in whose womb the immortal Word (from whom the words of the Law had been derived) was made present in the flesh? What words can possibly begin to express the holiness of this, the Mother of God, the Ark of the New Covenant?

Catholics understand two categories of honoring a person or thing.  Latria is the worship and adoration due solely to God, and dulia the respect and veneration proper to created things. Mary obviously falls under the latter category, and yet she outranks almost everything else. No prior consecration of the patriarchs, the judges, the kings, the prophets, or the nation of Israel itself can compare to the honor and distinction bestowed on Mary, the Mother of God. She is utterly unique in Scripture. It is for this reason that Catholics consider Marian devotion to be hyperdulia -- proper to a created being, but beyond what would be accorded to almost anything else.

Even the angels accorded her exceptional honors. When the archangel Gabriel appeared at the Annunciation, the closest literal translation of his greeting is: "Hail, full of grace, the Lord with you." This is why "she was very perplexed at this statement, and kept pondering what kind of salutation this was" (Luke 1:28-29). Mary may be the only individual who isn't immediately struck dumb at the sight of an angel, and for whom the immediate reassurance of "Do not be afraid" isn't actually necessary. She is certainly the only one to be greeted by a title rather than a name.

The title itself is a linguistic mouthful. The original text, in Greek, is kecharitomene, which is the perfect passive participle of charitoo (grace, blessing, favor). The perfect tense has a pretty specific meaning in Greek: it connotes a present state of completeness, contingent upon a past action. Thus the phrase "it is written" uses the perfect tense: it was written in the past, but brought to perfection in the present (in the person of Jesus Christ). For those who want to research further, I found this article to be particularly valuable. Essentially, the salutation kecharitomene indicates a state of unique and perfected grace which had already been bestowed upon Mary and which would now be brought into completeness.

Confused?  So was Mary.

To understand this unique grace which had been bestowed, and was about to be brought to fruition, it's necessary to understand another typology with which Mary is usually associated. Jesus Christ often referred to Himself as "the Son of Man" and is often compared to the first Man, Adam. Indeed, Romans 5:14 explicitly states that "Adam... is a type of Him who was to come" -- that is, that Adam is a typology of Christ. "For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ all will be made alive" (1 Cor. 15:22).

Just as Adam was a type for Jesus Christ, so the early Church treated Eve as a type for Mary

Consider again the significance of the Annunciation. God sought to come into flesh, to incarnate Himself and redeem humanity as Man. But this could not occur without the consent of Mary. By the very principle of free will that had caused Adam's fall in the first place, the divine plan of redemption was placed at the mercy of the young Jewish girl from Nazareth.

When Adam sinned, it was Eve who preceded him. Her sin led to his Fall. Thus, by that same typology, it would be the second Eve's faithfulness that would anticipate the second Adam's sacrifice. Her obedience at the Annunciation would enable His obedience in Gethsemane, even unto death.

Can we begin to fathom the cosmic pyrotechnics that accompanied her response to Gabriel? "Behold, the bond-servant of the Lord; may it be done to me according to your word." Her justly-celebrated fiat is one of the defining moments of Creation: the pinnacle of all the patriarchs, of all the prophets, and all the people of God. By the free will of the first Adam, man separated himself from the Presence of God. Now, by the free will of the second Eve, God was made Present to again walk among men. This is the meaning of St. Jerome's dictum: "Death came through Eve, but Life has come through Mary."

This typology should explain Gabriel's salutation of Mary. She was full of grace, given in anticipation of this very moment. Eve had chosen the apple of her own free will, in a state of innocence. In this moment, this second chance for humanity, Mary was endowed with the same grace and freedom.

This is the Catholic dogma of the Immaculate Conception. Protestants, take note: the Immaculate Conception refers to the conception of Mary, not the conception of Jesus (an event celebrated as the Annunciation or the Incarnation). I'm rather ashamed at how long it took me to recognize the distinction.

The history of this dogma is particularly interesting. Though it was defined in 1854, the teaching that Mary had by the grace of God lived a sinless life had been held long before that time, arising from the early Church and recognized by both Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Christians. The reason it took so long to define dogmatically is because, for most of its history, this teaching appeared exclusively in the liturgy of the Church, and wasn't discussed in academic settings.

When Eadmer, companion to St. Anselm, published a tract on the subject in the early eleventh century, the long-standing teaching moved from the realm of doxology to the field of theology. This was especially the case at the University of Paris, where the doctrine was subject to heated debates between the Dominicans (best represented by the Angelic Doctor, St. Thomas Aquinas) and the Franciscans (notably the Blessed John Duns Scotus).

The debate focused primarily on three questions.  First, in what way was Mary sinless? Was she preserved from "original sin" (sin nature in toto) or merely from "actual sin" (that is, sinful deeds)?  It is for this reason that the Eastern Orthodox Church recognizes Mary as "spotless" without agreeing to the Immaculate Conception as Catholics define it. Second, what were the consequences of this sinlessness? This discussion mostly focused on whether Mary was subject to the usual sufferings of humanity -- especially the labor pains of childbirth -- and whether she ever entertained sinful thoughts or temptations.

The third question, however, was the bigger point of contention: at what point did her sinlessness take effect? Virtually everyone agreed that this sanctifying grace was endowed to Mary before her birth, but there was a good deal of controversy whether it was given at the moment of physical conception, or some indeterminate time after conception but before birth. Ultimately, the scholarly consensus arrived at a middle position. Relying on the insights of medieval scholasticism, and in contrast to the sometimes dualistic approach of the post-Enlightenment West, Catholic theology defines man as a holistic union of body and soul.  For this reason, Catholic theology distinguishes between "conception" simpliciter, in the purely physical sense, and "conception" in the broader sense, the moment at which the body is fused with a rational soul. Mary's immaculate conception is therefore interpreted as applying to the latter (sometimes called "animation"), since original sin is transmitted by flesh but pertains to our souls.

Once this consensus was reached, the dogma was solemnly defined by the Council of Basel, held between 1431–1449, and was recognized by all Catholic theologians. However, some time later it was determined that the Council of Basel was not a proper ecumenical council according to canon law, and therefore unable to promulgate dogma, and so the question was left up in the air for some time.  It wasn't until the mid-nineteenth century that, with the nearly unanimous consent of the College of Cardinals and the bishops of the Catholic Church, Pope Pius IX defined the dogma in his apostolic constitution of 1854, Ineffabilis Deus:

We declare, pronounce and define that the doctrine which holds that the Blessed Virgin Mary, at the first instant of her conception, by a singular privilege and grace of the Omnipotent God, in virtue of the merits of Jesus Christ, the Saviour of mankind, was preserved immaculate from all stain of original sin, has been revealed by God, and therefore should firmly and constantly be believed by all the faithful.

By the atoning blood of Jesus Christ shed on the cross, Mary was conceived and born free of original sin. This was not accomplished out of her own power, for she was still in need of a Savior (Luke 1:47), but was accomplished by the timeless and eternal God, in anticipation of the momentous choice she would face.

The dogma of the Immaculate Conception is considered theologically necessary not only in light of her role as the New Eve, but also in light of her role as Theokotos, Mother of God. Christians profess that Jesus Christ was a single person with two natures, human and divine. His divine nature was inherited as the only begotten Son of God. His human nature was inherited from His conception in the womb of Mary. If Mary existed in a state of original sin, that stain would have been inherited through the flesh by her son Jesus.

We might hypothesize that Jesus was Himself the subject of the sanctifying grace, to be preserved from original sin, but that would be tautological: could Jesus' blood have preserved His own state of sinlessness in vitro? Moreover, such a teaching would greatly diminish His humanity, since He would only be human in a cleansed and rarefied manner.

Rather, the Church teaches that God preserved Mary from conception in a state of innocence -- though it should be noted that this preservation was not yet perfection. By allowing her the chance to recapitulate Eve's fateful decision, to triumph in the face of temptation, Mary's humanity was glorified, as human nature would have been but for the Fall. It was this amplified and renewed form of human nature -- fully endowed with the sanctifying grace of God and perfected in the cooperative merit of Mary's faithful fiat -- that was inherited by Jesus Christ.

Mary, Ever Virgin

The miracle of the Virgin Birth is a lynch-pin of orthodox Christian faith. If you deny that Christ was born of a virgin, you deny that He was conceived by the Holy Spirit, and thereby deny that He was born the Son of God.  You reject the miracle of the Incarnation, you reject the purpose of His life on earth, and you reject the meaning of His death on the cross. The Church stands united on this issue, overcoming all schismatic division: the Virgin Birth is one of the essential truths of the faith.

But many Christians are content to leave it at that. Most Protestants in my experience defend the virgin birth, but don't find anything particularly objectionable in the idea that Mary went on to marry Joseph and have other children (citing the brothers of Jesus, to which Scripture sometimes refers). As a Protestant I too wondered why Catholics insisted on her perpetual virginity.

There are some indicators of this doctrine even in the Scriptural account. At the Annunciation, the archangel Gabriel informs Mary: "Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name Him Jesus." Mary's response is perplexing: the literal translation reads "How will this be, since I know no man?" As St. Gregory of Nyssa (younger brother to Basil the Great) pointed out, we should wonder why Mary didn't make the connection to her impending marriage to Joseph. The archangel only told her that she would conceive, in the future, and her response is to wonder how that would be possible -- even in the future. The Roman Catholic and Orthodox understanding is that Mary had pledged herself as a lifelong virgin, and that her betrothal to Joseph was in fact his pledge of guardianship.

It should be noted that this doctrine does not conflict with other passages in Scripture. There are several oft-quoted proof-texts that cite the "brothers of Jesus" (Matthew 28:10, Mark 6:3, Luke 8:19, and John 20:17, among others) as clearly contradicting this doctrine. But this reading fails to recognize that the Hebrew word translated as "brother" (adelphoi) was in fact a catch-all word for male kinsmen, which would include half-brothers, stepbrothers, first cousins, and quite possibly third cousins once removed.

As a brief side note, I sometimes marvel at those who think any verse could be an authoritative rebuttal to the dogma of perpetual virginity (or any other dogma, for that matter). Given the brilliance of the Fathers and the exegetical rigor of the Doctors who gave us Catholic tradition, don't we imagine that the early church would have noticed any obvious contradictions and not made such claims in the first place? Isn't it rather absurd to imagine that it took nearly two millennia for Christians to notice such verses?

The dogma of perpetual virginity arose out of the tradition of the early Church. The earliest reference to the dogma appears, somewhat obliquely, in a letter from Ignatius of Antioch (circa 108 AD). The earliest defense to the dogma appears in the second century, in a pseudo-epigraphical text now referred to as "The Protoevangelium of James." While the work is not canonical, it is cited approvingly by Origen in the third century as confirmation that the perpetual virginity of Mary was an accepted doctrine in the early church. Before this point, the only recorded dissent was voiced in the second century by Tertullian, who denied that Mary's virginity was preserved in partu (during birth), in order to affirm the physical reality of the Incarnation against the Docetist heresy. However, even the fact that Tertullian had to actively deny Mary's perpetual virginity would seem to corroborate Origen's conclusion that it was a widely held belief. By the fourth century, the dogma was attested by most of the Church Fathers, including Athanasius, Ambrose, and Jerome, and it would not be questioned until well after the Protestant Reformation.

None of this, however, addresses the question of how the early church arrived at this dogma in the first place. The answer to that relies primarily on a particular mode of Scriptural exegesis called "typological." This hermeneutic is best understood by St. Augustine's well-known dictum: "The New Testament lies hidden in the Old and the Old Testament is unveiled in the New."

If there is a single defining characteristic of the Jewish faith during the time of Christ, it was the Temple.  The original Temple was built by Solomon, the archetypal son of David, as the center of religious observance for the nation of Israel. But the Temple was not considered holy in and of itself. Its holiness was rather derived from the object it was built to house: the Ark of the Covenant. The Ark was placed in the Holy of Holies, the inner sanctum of the Temple that only the High Priest could visit only once a year to offer a single sacrifice of blood and incense.

What then was this Ark of the Covenant? According to Hebrews 9:4, it was a vessel "covered on all sides with gold, in which there was a golden jar holding the manna, and Aaron's rod which budded, and the tables of the covenant." The Ark was constructed by Moses to hold the bread which gave life to Israel in the desert (Exodus 16:32), the rod of the the Priest who stood before God on behalf of the people (Numbers 17:10), and the stone tables on which the Word of God was written (Deuteronomy 10:1-5). Scripture and tradition confirm that the early church treated these three items as typologies of Jesus Christ. He is "the bread of life" (John 6:35), "the High Priest of our confession (Hebrews 3:1), and "the Word made flesh" (John 1:14). The Ark of the Covenant bore within itself the typologies of Jesus Christ.

If true, then by the same typological reading, the Ark of the Covenant would itself be a typology for the one who bore Jesus Christ come in flesh.  The Ark of the Covenant prefigures the Virgin Mary.

Do we begin to understand why the early church insisted on Mary's perpetual virginity? To borrow an analogy from Scott Hahn, a Presbyterian-turned-Catholic apologist, Catholics believe in the perpetual virginity of Mary for the same reason that most people wouldn't bring their fine china on a picnic. It's a matter of propriety.

For a period of nine months, the womb of Mary was quite literally the Ark of the New Covenant, the vessel which bore God in bodily form. Mary herself may be considered the Holy of Holies, as she was overshadowed by the power of the Most High (Luke 1:35). Yet, by the typology of the Temple, only one person was permitted to enter the Holy of Holies, and that was permitted only for a single purpose. That purpose was fulfilled when the Holy Spirit came upon her to conceive the Son of God.

It would have been inappropriate, then, for Joseph to perform the same duties as a husband, for this would have diminished the living Temple that was his virgin wife. The logic of this teaching does not imply, as some have said, that marriage is not a sacrament or that sex is not a blessing. It merely recognizes the specifically sacred function of this particular woman and this particular womb.

Mary, Mother of God

Of all the practices and principles in the Roman Catholic Church that are objected to by modern Protestants, the centrality of Marian devotion will almost always top the list. Not even the doctrine of papal infallibility can compete for that dubious honor. In the centuries following the Protestant Reformation, cries of "popery" and "Romanism" among anti-Catholic groups were often accompanied by accusations of "Mariolatry," and the charge is repeated to this day.

At the very least, a Christian organization that is distinguished primarily in public perception by devotion to a human woman cannot be as effective a witness for the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  Moreover, if the members of that Christian community mark their own faith principally by such devotions, I consider it a near-certainty that their faith would suffer as a result.

And yet... none of the above says anything against the truth of Catholic teachings on Mary nor against the moral quality of actual Catholic practice. Growing up in a Protestant community, I have often been concerned by the appearance of idolatry in certain Catholic dogma. But I had no way of knowing whether such teachings are informed by a genuinely Christ-centered attitude.

For the Ten Commandments direct to us to place no other god before the One God, and to not fashion idols for ourselves.  If idolatry is elevating a created thing above the Creator, then that definition would not apply to an offering of respect or devotion to a created thing as such, when offered to the extent it reflects the glory of its Creator.  Indeed, such respect may indeed be quite wholesome as spiritual practice: witness the Protestant devotion to the written Word of God.

The question thus remains: is this indeed the case with Catholic devotions to Mary?

One of the earliest title applied to the virgin girl from Nazareth was officially recognized by the Church at the First Council of Ephesus in 431 AD. Nestorius, the Archbishop of Constantinople, was on record supporting a recognition of Mary as Christotokos -- that is, as the "bearer" or "birth-giver of Christ." This was part of his broader theological platform, in which he argued that the human person of Jesus Christ was distinct from (but unified with) the divine person of the Son of God.

Nestorius' teachings were declared heresy and anathema by the Council at Ephesus, because it tried to separate the twin natures of Jesus Christ into two distinct persons, almost as a inversion of the Docetist heresy. Rather, the Council asserted, Christ is identified with the Son of God, the human and divine natures being unified in a single person.

Therefore, Mary's role cannot be limited to that of birth-mother of merely the human component, but must be treated in light of the entirety of her Son's being. In sum, Mary could not be merely Christotokos, but must be treated and recognized as Theotokos, the "bearer" or "birth-giver of God."

This conciliar decision defined a Marian dogma which was already in common circulation: the earliest known usage is in Origen's commentary on Romans in the third century, and the term appears throughout the works of the early Christian Fathers, including St. Athanasius and St. Augustine . It is an apostolic tradition in the sense most recognizable to a Protestant audience: it originated out of the common understanding of the early church, was defended by the highest bishops of the Church, and was declared to be dogma by conciliar degree.

This particular dogma should point those of us from the Protestant traditions to two particular realizations.  First, the doctrine that Mary was indeed the Mother of God should go a long way in elevating her in our eyes.  She was a young peasant girl from Nazareth who by God's grace was permitted to bear the immortal, inscrutable, transcendental Word Made Flesh. Her distinction is unique in Scripture, her role utterly unique in all of Creation, yet most Protestants don't seem to pay her that much attention.

Second, this dogma of Theotokos should help Protestants understand that every Catholic teaching on Mary arose out of a similar process, from consideration of her relationship to her Son, Jesus Christ.

Over the next several posts, I hope to considering Roman Catholic devotion to Mary from several perspectives.  Each post will explore a particular Marian dogma defined or set forth in the Catholic Church.  Each post will consider this dogma in light of a particular title accorded to Mary.  Each post will cover Mary's actual role in various New Testament passages, especially those considered important to the early Church. Finally, and crucially, each post will look at her typological role foreshadowed throughout the Old Testament. Most of these exegetical readings were unknown to me until recently, but they are the furthest thing from original, for they flow from the traditions of the early Church. I only hope I may do justice to them.