Lc 2,16-21
“True sister of ours”[1]
The feast we celebrate today, Holy Mary, Mother of God, marks the beginning of the civil year and the octave of Christmas. Her title was defined as dogma in the Council of Ephesus in the year 431, in response to the heresy of Nestorius, consolidating the title of Theotokos, ‘bearer of God,’ against that of Christotokos ‘bearer of Christ.’ Pope Pius XI in 1931 instituted the liturgical feast in the Roman calendar, confirmed by Paul VI, integrating the ancient celebration of January 1st (6th century, in Rome). From 1968, the World Day of Peace is also celebrated.
The statement of the dogma: “Mary, Mother of God” gives us a clue to understand the reality of God. It expresses the need to comprehend God from our human reality. We are children of God and He is also a Son of a woman. God entering into human activity and development and the human being entering into the divine dynamic. Calling Mary Mother is to manifest the presence of God in Jesus.
It is worth remembering that this passage is preceded by the canticle of the Magnificat that Mary intones during her visit to Elizabeth (Lk 1,46-56) and the prophecy of Zechariah, the Benedictus (Lk 1,68-79).
The two Marian feasts celebrated in December during the time of Advent: the Immaculate Conception and Nª Sra. de Guadalupe, patroness of America, show that God’s promises are fulfilled, and often in surprising ways. God focuses on the small, the humble, the insignificant. And He does so by asking permission to work wonders, respecting human decision, asking for collaboration so that His saving plan can be carried out. Mary receives the ‘messenger’ Gabriel within her, welcomes that project, even without understanding, asks “how will this be?” and, finally, accepts: “fiat,” “let it be done to me according to your word.”
The Magnificat consists of two verses linked theologically by a deep sense of God’s compassion. One, which reflects a way of life in Jewish and Christian traditions: love of God and love of neighbor in evangelical terms, social spirituality and justice according to the prophets, contemplation and action in traditional spirituality, mysticism and resistance in contemporary theology.
The canticle of Mary is that of a poor woman. She proclaims the greatness of God because he has done great things for her. The term ‘humble condition,’ in Greek, describes poverty, suffering, persecution and oppression. It is not a metaphor. It is based on her real social position. Young, poor, a woman and a member of a people subjected to the economic exploitation of the Roman empire, by powerful and corrupt rulers. Yet, it is precisely to a young woman like this that the call has come to collaborate with God in the great work of redemption. What is revolutionary is the combination: that God has taken notice of her precisely as a humble woman.
The second stanza articulates the great biblical theme of change. The arrival of the Kingdom of God is going to disrupt the world order governed by the arrogant, the oppressor, the hard of heart. Thanks to God’s action, the social hierarchy of wealth and poverty, power and submission will be reversed. In all the Gospels, Jesus preaches and puts into practice this vital message of change.
María anticipates the good news, and does so as a Jewish woman with a deeply rooted awareness of the heritage and wisdom of strong women in Israel. The message of the Magnificat is, therefore, revolutionary, and its social, economic, and political dimensions cannot be overlooked. Divine love is especially on the side of those whose dignity must be recovered; building a community of brothers and sisters marked by human dignity and mutual respect.
The Spirit-Ruah that vivified Mary and authorized her prophetic voice is the same that inspires and vivifies women of all times. One of the most powerful and unusual lessons of traditional Mariology is the right to say ‘no’. Mary’s ‘yes’ at the Annunciation has been used abominably to encourage passive submission of women. She makes the divine ‘no’ her own against all that oppresses the humble, disregards some and others, remains firm, and sings that this will change. She becomes a woman not subjected but prophetic.
Catholic women are fighting against the interpretation of this song in favor of their subordinate position in the current church structure. If this applies to the struggle of women for full participation in the government and ministry of the church, the changes of the Magnificat have full meaning for ecclesial life. Women are doubly oppressed and marginalized[2] not only for being poor, but also for being women in a society in which machismo prevails.
She gave birth. The risk of death in ancient Israel was real. Sometimes a midwife was called upon, and other women helped. We do not have details of Mary’s labor, but the words ‘gave birth’ evoke that effort in which women bring forth a new life. Something that our grandmothers lived until a few years ago.
The virginity of Mary in childbirth will enter into the Church’s doctrine as an open dogma to multiple interpretations. It is not a destination; in any case, a starting point that must be reformulated.
Lucas knows nothing about this idea. For him, Maria delves into the common experience of women who give birth to a new creature from their bodies, even at the risk of dying. In this birth, real blood was shed, from a first-time mother, poor, from a rural society, far from her home and in a little welcoming stable.
Then, we are told that “Mary treasured all these memories and pondered them in her heart.” Twelve years later, she is described as frightened after having lost Jesus: “His mother kept all these things in her heart” (2:50). She does not fully understand the things she is experiencing, turns them over in her head, weighs them. She reflects in order to know how the Spirit is moving among them, how to discern its meaning and follow the right path. As any of us.
Following Luke’s image of Mary as an exemplary disciple, subsequent generations perceive a woman in prayer, actively contemplating the word of God and putting it into practice.
Of the scarce data of Mary that we have in the Gospels, from the 4th century onwards, an elevation of Mary is observed, identified with the woman of the Apocalypse (Rev 12:1), despite the fact that exegesis considers that it has nothing to do originally with Mary, but rather the influence of ancient goddesses is manifested. The veneration of Mary among the masses is fueled, above all, by the ancient cults of the Eastern Mediterranean. Subsequently, the Catholic liturgy exaggerates these attributes, and the Second Vatican Council warns of these excesses, highlighting Mary’s role in the history of salvation.
The infinity of images of Mary with a crown, luxurious cloaks, endowed with privileges, virgin, immaculate, mediator, co-redeemer, assumed into heaven…, have distanced her from the essential: Mary, a woman of faith who listens, keeps, and fulfills the *Word* of God.
Mary of Nazareth, neighbor, sister, friend, and companion on the journey, related to other women in Jesus’s environment, makes her an ally of women worldwide as they fight for the recognition of their full human dignity and that of their children. Here, in historical Pentecost and in the Acts, Mary is found alongside the women in the midst of the community, just like the men.
Although excluded from ordination and therefore officially marginalized[3], they speak with authority. The source of authority is the Holy Spirit, the only source of authority for the Church. Women enjoy the gifts of the Spirit through a threefold way: through their vocation as baptized persons, which makes them prophetesses, priests, and leaders as parts of the body of Christ; through their real experience of living each day their Christian life, which knows how to discern truth from love; through their negative experiences of pain and exclusion, which procure knowledge of what should not be in the Church.
Collaborators of the Spirit, appeal to the authority of a future in accordance with the Kingdom of God, when the fullness of life, *shalom*, is poured out on all, primarily on the smallest and the last.
Shalom!
Mª Luisa Paret
[1] Elizabeth A. Johnson, *True Sister of Ours. Theology of Mary in the communion of saints*, Herder Ed., Barcelona, 2005
[2] Puebla, n.1135, cited by Gutiérrez, *God of life*, 165
[3] Final Document of the Synod on Synodality n. 60
English version translated with AI