Book Review: "Ordinary Work, Extraordinary Grace"

Scott Hahn is best known a former Presbyterian minister who converted to the Catholic Church. One of the major influences in his transition-conversion was the Catholic organization Opus Dei.  Founded in 1928 by St. Josemaria Escrivá and approved in 1950 by Pope Pius XII, the organization was made a personal prelature of Pope John Paul II in 1982 -- a meteoric rise that fueled speculation that Opus Dei had masterfully manipulated papal court politics. This notoriety was reinforced and publicized by the grotesque caricature of Opus Dei that appeared in the 2005 bestseller, "The Da Vinci Code."

For those seeking sensationalist details about the private lives of albino monks, this book is not the place to find them. On the other hand, for those seeking factual sensationalist details, I doubt you'll find them anywhere. Scott Hahn begins by depicting his initial encounter with members of the organization , but swiftly moves to present the doctrinal underpinnings of Opus Dei (a Latin phrase, meaning "The Work of God").

Opus Dei is a global organization (the term "personal prelature" simply means that Opus Dei isn't bound to a single geographic region) with a rather simple mission: to sanctify ordinary life. While there are numeraries who live in special centers, assisted by secular priests and non-clerical assistants, the vast majority of Opus Dei members are supernumeraries, Catholic laity with families and careers outside the organization.


The theology of Opus Dei is the theology of the Catholic Church, rooted in the foundational doctrine of divine filiation: that by the grace of God, we can take part in the life of Christ and can call ourselves truly sons and daughters of God. Hahn spends some chapters discussing this very idea, and tracing its implications throughout the ordinary life of Opus Dei members.

While this brief book isn't neither as explicitly theological nor as explicitly biographical as some of Hahn's other writings, I found some of the insights to be particularly valuable. I was inspired by reading how Opus Dei sought to apply the Christian call to sanctity to their ordinary lives and careers, and found myself remarking at the parallels with Protestant organizations seeking the same active walk of faith.


If you'd like to purchase this book, check it out at Amazon.com:
Ordinary Work, Extraordinary Grace: My Spiritual Journey in Opus Dei

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.

Commentary on Scripture: Romans 4

Do we then nullify the Law through faith? May it never be!  On the contrary, we establish the Law.

Romans 4:1-22 ~~ A long digression on the nature of Abraham's righteousness (with particular reference to Genesis 15:6), similar in content to Galatians 3:6-7, as well as Hebrews 11:8-19, though in sharp contrast with the text of James 2:21-24. Two brief thoughts on the passage as a whole. First, having established justification "by faith apart from the works of the Law," Paul is strongly interested in rooting this doctrine in the very soil of the Law itself.  Second, the contrast between Romans and James should remind us to avoid atomistic interpretations of Scripture. We are often tempted in exegesis to trim the infallible Tree, to prune away difficult passages and to graft more accessible doctrines onto those now-barren limbs. If anything, let us dive head-first into paradox, so we might understand the insight captured in these inspired texts.

Romans 4:2 ~~ "If Abraham was justified by works, he has something to boast about, but not before God." There can be no pride in our own salvation, for we were not the cause of it, and indeed could do nothing prior to the divine initiative of grace.

Romans 4:4-5 ~~ "Now to the one who works, his wage is not credited, as a favor, but as what is due." Salvation, taken as the initial moment of justification, is not 'due' in any sense to us. However, the passage does indicate that the wages of works are indeed credited as our "due," even as the rewards of faith are credited as righteousness.

Romans 4:6-8 ~~ Righteousness (blessedness) is for the forgiven sinner. This quote in particular serves as a Scriptural basis for Luther's maxim "simul iustus et peccator" (both justified and sinner), and does seem to point towards the later Protestant concept of 'imputed righteousness.'

Romans 4:9-12 ~~ Abraham was deemed righteous prior to his circumcision, in accordance with his faith. Therefore, Paul reasons, righteousness cannot be exclusive to circumcision, if only because such an understanding would disqualify Abraham.

Romans 4:11 ~~ "...the sign of circumcision, a seal of the righteousness of the faith which he had while uncircumcised...." Both circumcision and baptism, its typological counterpart in the New Covenant, may be seen as seals of righteousness from the moment of conversion. However, failure to affirm the covenant by obedience -- circumcision, the sacrifice of Isaac (cf. James 2:21), the Law, the sacrament of baptism -- would invalidate the original covenantal relationship.

Romans 4:14 ~~ "If those who are of the Law are heirs, faith is made void and the promise is nullified" (cf. Galatians 3:17). Those who receive the Law are neither exclusively nor assuredly heirs in the family of God (cf. Romans 2:13, Galatians 3:29).

Romans 4:15 ~~ "The Law brings about wrath, but where there is no law, there also is no violation." This may well be cited as one of the more notorious and difficult anti-legalistic passages in the Pauline epistles, as well as a startlingly strong confirmation of the principle of judgment according to knowledge (though again, balance with Romans 2:15) . Paul maintains that the Law (greater revelation) entails wrath and judgment, for it reveals our state of sinfulness, and may even exacerbate actual sin by acting as a proximate cause on our rebellious natures.

Romans 4:17-18 ~~ These verses are fairly difficult. My NASB translation reads: "God, who gives life to the dead and calls into being that which does not exist," but marks in footnotes that the original literal read goes: "God, who gives life to the dead and calls the things who do not exist as existing." In one sense, this is decidedly a reference to the risen Christ (as well as his typological forbear, Isaac). It also hearkens to the doctrine of creation ex nihilo, perhaps even in the Aristotelian sense of God as "unmoved mover" or "first cause" (as developed by Thomas Aquinas). We shouldn't forget that Paul, in addition to his apostolic office and divine inspiration, was also something of a genius.

Romans 4:19-21 ~~ The life of faith is one that contemplates the obstacles and doubts of this world (e.g., Abraham's frailty and Sarah's infertility) without growing weak or wavering in reliance upon God. Faith enables strength and thanksgiving. Paul correlates our faithful reliance on God with our hopeful assurance in His promises and His power to perform them).

Romans 4:25 ~~ Jesus "was delivered over because of our transgressions, and was raised because of our justification." This verse seems have been taken from an early Christian confessional or doxology. I find this verse particularly interesting, because it treats the Resurrection (not the crucifixion) as the primary salvific event for our justification. This seems to correlate more closely with a Catholic/Orthodox understanding of "infused" or "imparted" righteousness, as well their teachings regarding the sacrament of baptism, which may almost been treated as a vicarious 're-enactment' of Christ's death and resurrection.

I've recently done some reading on the Anglican bishop and theologian N.T. Wright, who is one of the major theological movers of the "New Perspectives on Paul." This lecture summarizes some of the "central issues" that are foundational to his exegetical framework. While I lack the education or exegetical experience to sit in judgment over his works, I find Wright's contributions to be quite impressive, both in balancing the excesses of certain doctrines and in drawing us into a fuller understanding of the Scriptural text. His summary of 'justification' (which concludes the lecture) has been especially valuable in reading Romans.  What's more, Wright's arguments strike me as largely unoriginal -- which, in my book, is an unmitigated good. If no one in the past two millennia had thought of this interpretive gloss, that would be much more cause for concern than if such a reading were rooted in arguments from the orthodox tradition.

Book Review: "The Ratzinger Report"

Since the publication of Luther's famous Ninety-Five Theses in the early fifteen century, the "war" between Protestantism and Catholicism has raged. It is interesting to note, however, that beneath this layer of open schism there are strata of internal disputes and borders disputes that complicate the matter considerably.
 

Joseph Ratzinger was a lecturer on church dogmatics when, in 1962, he was invited to participate in Vatican II as a theological consultant. He quickly won a reputation among the so-called "progressive" caucus, for his openness to adapt church practice and discipline to modern times. This bloc found itself in a particularly vexing dispute with the more "traditionalist" conference, who favored the older traditions, especially the Latin Mass. Ratzinger's reputation was secured when he became one of the founders of the progressive periodical "Concilium," that became one of the primary dogmatic disputants with the official Catholic organ of dogma: the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, formerly the Holy Office, formerly the Roman and Universal Inquisition.


However, some years later Ratzinger separated from this caucus and this periodical. He would maintain his openness to adaptation and "the modern times," but Ratzinger insisted that any progressive caucus must recognize the authority of Catholic Tradition (and not seek to reinvent everything anew) and the true spirit of Vatican II (without regard for some hypothetical Vatican III that would trump it). The Church must "remain true to Vatican II, to this today of the Church, without any longing for a yesterday irretrievably gone with the wind and without any impatient thrust toward a tomorrow that is not ours" (pg. 19).


In 1977, Ratzinger was appointed by Pope Paul VI to the rank of Cardinal and Archbishop of Munich. Four years later, in 1981, he was selected by Pope John Paul II to be the head and Cardinal Prefect of the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. In this position, Cardinal Ratzinger often found himself butting heads with his former progressive colleagues, as he sought to establish the post-Vatican II identity of the Catholic Church. Indeed, Ratzinger can be directly credited with moderating these divergent influences, and for reining in some of the more liberal doctrines that were promulgated (perhaps most notably by the liberation theology movement). By the time he was elected to the papal seat, succeeding Pope John Paul II and taking the name Pope Benedict XVI, Ratzinger was already the Dean of the College of Cardinals, and the most highly regarded theologian in the Catholic Church.

All of this should tell you just how important Cardinal Ratzinger was, even before his election as Pope. It should also give you some idea how significant it was when Ratzinger agreed to be interviewed by Vittorio Messori, an Italian journalist with a focus on religious issues. This interview was doubly significant because it would last for several days, and would wind up not just as an article but as an entire book, from the most important theologian in the Church besides the Pope himself, speaking from a privileged position about the state of the Church. The interview was trebly significant because of the historical secrecy associated with the Holy Office, and the Cardinal's own reticence about interviews.


The book is fantastic.  The introduction, written by Messori, is in my opinion an exemplar of journalistic integrity and honesty. However, the content is the far more impressive aspect of the work. The text, taken almost entirely from Ratzinger's words in the interview, ranges a whole gamut of issues, from the very notion of the Church to the doctrine of sexual ethics, to the conflicts within the Catholic Church and their presumed resolutions.  Though it was published in 1985, it remains entirely relevant today, even in the wake of the debilitating crisis wrought by the child abuse scandal among American Catholic clergy and the far different circumstances faced by the now-Pope Benedict XVI.  I would highly recommend this book to anyone interested in Catholicism. The clarity and mental dexterity displayed by Cardinal Ratzinger is a genuine delight.


If you'd like to purchase this book, check it out at Amazon.com
Ratzinger Report: An Exclusive Interview on the State of the Church

This was cross-posted at my book and film review blog, Worthy of Note.

Book Review: "Reasons to Believe"

Scott Hahn is a former Presbyterian minister who converted to the Catholic Church and is now Professor of Scripture and Theology at the Franciscan University of Stuebenville. He has written upwards of a dozen books, on topics ranging from his conversion ("Rome Sweet Home") and his experiences in Opus Dei ("Ordinary Work, Extraordinary Grace"), to his appreciation of the Eucharist ("The Lamb's Supper") and the Sacraments ("Swear to God"), of the liturgy ("Letter and Spirit"), of the family ("First Comes Love"), and of Marian dogma ("Hail, Holy Queen").

Hahn addresses much of his writing for a Protestant audience, so he is perhaps best known as an apologist, a reputation reinforced by the stellar short work, "Reasons to Believe." The book is divided into three part: the first part addressed to non-Christians, the second part addressed to Protestants and non-Catholic Christians, and the third addressed primarily to his fellow Catholics.

The first part is fairly unoriginal, though I can hardly fault it for being so, as it covers most of the historically recognized and developed arguments for the existence of God, the legitimacy of faith, and the foundations of Christian Scripture and revelation. Hahn's prose is thorough and clear without getting bogged down in a philosophical mire, which is a credit to his craftsmanship. However, while most of the arguments are ostensibly geared towards a non-Christian audience, I suspect it was actually written for Catholic audiences trying to understand the philosophical underpinnings of their faith.

The second part is easily the best aspect of the work. Coming from a Protestant background, Hahn instinctively knows the rhetoric of Protestantism, and is able to present Catholic dogma in a way that makes intuitive sense to his audience. His five chapters delve into issues of Scripture and tradition, the communion of the saints, the sacraments, and the papacy. While he covers similar material in greater depth in many of his other works, this is a brilliant summary of the major points of contention.

I found the third part of the book less compelling, if only in comparison to the second. He introduces his own area of expertise -- covenant theology, the subject of his doctoral dissertation -- and examines the Catholic doctrine of the church through that lens: as the kingdom of God. The conclusion, however, is another high point. Hahn directly addresses Catholics and exhorts them to re-examine the dogma promulgated by the Council of Trent, which directly responded to the claims of the Protestant Reformation. Rather than identify justification on legalistic grounds of imputed righteousness (as Luther asserted) or the merit of works (as many Catholic chose to respond), the Council of Trent advocated a more relational understanding, sometimes called "imparted righteousness" or "divine filiation."

By faith and by the grace of God, we become heirs of the kingdom and can call ourselves truly sons of God. It is this righteousness, ours through inheritance, that is the basis of our justification, as well as our sanctification and future glorification.  It's a doctrine that all Christians, both Catholic and Protestant, could stand to understand and put into practice.


If you'd like to purchase this book, check it out at Amazon.com
Reasons to Believe: How to Understand, Explain, and Defend the Catholic Faith

This was cross-posted at my book and film review blog, Worthy of Note.

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.