Mary--Queen of Heaven, Refuge from the Rain

The Oratory in Oxford. The man in the photo is
counting the steps to the altar. He is getting
married soon.

I ducked into to the Oratory Church of St Aloysius Gonzaga in Oxford for two reasons. First, it was pouring rain. When I left the library, the sky was blue, but this is England, not San Diego. Weather changes quickly.

Second, J.R.R Tolkien, author of Lord of the Rings faithfully attended this church and had a well-known devotion to the Virgin Mary. He once wrote to a friend that his, "own small perception of beauty both in majesty and simplicity " were found in "Our Lady."  I hadn't known the location of the church, but in the rain, it was the place with an open door. 

The building is a soaring French Gothic structure. Inside, a couple was marking off the length of the center aisle. A priest appeared and they began discussing an upcoming wedding ceremony. Another priest entered from a side door with a rainbow-colored feather duster and began to dust the statue of St. Philip Neri, founder of the Congregation of the Oratory, the priests that serve this church. A family entered, sheltering as I was, and asked me questions about the church. I knew nothing. I needed to get out of the entryway. 

I headed up the right aisle and found the Lady Chapel. Somehow, even on a rainy afternoon, a celestial light was streaming down on the statue of the Queen of Heaven and the Holy Child. There was a small stool in the alcove. I sat down and just gazed at the beauty and serenity. I had once served a church with marvelous stained-glass windows. I retreated there when stressed or perplexed to let the virgin blue, prophetic reds, and royal purples just surround me with light and beauty. Today, I could hear the rain, and I knew I was taking refuge on so many levels.

    

To study women in Christianity, is to circle round the figure of Mary of Nazareth. There is no other female figure considered more holy or held up as model of virtue and faith. She is often idealized as the perfected vision of womanhood and motherhood. I see her as a model of discipleship. She submitted to the Spirit and God guided her life according to a larger plan of redemption and renewal.

The Gospel of Luke, introduces Mary as a thoughtful, prophetic witness to God’s care for the lowly and oppressed. Luke locates her in an extended priestly family awaiting the coming of the messiah. One of my summer school professors, Fr. Nicolas King, S.J. calls the Gospel of Luke, “the gospel of the Holy Spirit” because it is abundantly clear from the very beginning that the Spirit of God is in charge of the story* Fr. King, a humble, witty Jesuit, told us to look for the Spirit’s fingerprints by looking for language that points to something or someone “being filled”—an act of saturating something that is empty, parched or open  or "fulfilled"—a word that points to something promised that has now been delivered. I loved hunting the gospel these fingerprints of the Spirit.

Fr. Nicholas King, S.J.
Photo from Kevin Mayhew Ltd.

From the first sentence, the gospel writer claims to be writing a “narrative of the things that have been fulfilled among us.” (1:1). The “things” Luke will describes as being fulfilled are the hopes and visions of Israel as foretold in the Old Testament. Even the names of the observant Jews from the priestly family introduced in chapter one push this aim.  Zechariah means “the Lord has remembered”; Elisabeth means, “My God has sworn an oath,” Mary--a Greek form of Miriam, means “beloved” or “wished for child.”  John means “God has been gracious.”  The names point to the specific holy role each must enact. They are actively expecting God to intervene in their troubled word filled with political intrigue and religious oppression and fulfill the promise for a new king and a renewed kingdom.

The Spirit actively is filling those who are a part of God’s action. Gabriel, the angel who visits Zechariah to announce John the Baptism’s birth says, “there will be joy and exultation…and he shall be filled with the Holy Spirit right from his mother’s womb.” (1:15). Gabriel appears a second time to Mary and says, “The power of the Holy Spirit will come upon you and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore that which is conceived is holy and will be called Son of God” (1:35). Later in the chapter, Elisabeth hears Mary’s greeting and “Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit” (1:41) and she recognizes that Mary is carrying a special child. Soon Zechariah gets his voice back when he affirms his son will be called John and Zechariah is “filled with the Holy Spirit and prophesied” (1:64). Every one in the family from young to old is filled with God’s Spirit and a part of God’s plan.

Mary, we are told “kept these events in her heart” (2:51). Other translations use the words “ponder” or “treasured.”  The story continues throughout the gospel. Jesus full of the Holy Spirit (that descended on him like a dove) returned from the Jordan, and was led by the Spirit into the desert (4:1). He returns to Galilee in the power of the Spirit (4:14) where he reads the scroll in his hometown synagogue that declares, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, therefore he has anointed me to give good news to the destitute. He has sent me to proclaim freedom to prisoners and recovery-of-sight to the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord” (4:18-19).

Like mother, like son. Being aware of the Spirit-at-work to bring God’s promises to fulfillment, is the characteristic that sets Mary apart as a model of discipleship. Her steadfastness to say “yes” to the uncontrollable actions of the Spirit, even when that led to puzzlement, social rejection, and great personal suffering is why she remains known to Orthodox Christians, the “theotokos,” the God-bearer, to Catholics as “mediator,” one who intercedes for those who suffer or are in great need, and to Protestants as an exemplar of discipleship that walks in the way of the Spirit.

After a few minutes, I stood and surveyed the front of the sanctuary. Two rows of ornamental statues stood behind the altar. A list identifying them was posted on a nearby column. It named the figures on the reredos (so that is what they are called)!  Many of my favorite women in Christian history were there: St. Frideswide, St. Hilda, St. Helen, St. Winifred, St. Edith, St. Bertha, St. Gertrude, St. Julia, St. Mary Magdalene, St. Cecilia, St. Monica, St. Teresa.

I serve and worship in a post-reformation, holiness church, where no ancient saints are depicted. I know the word saint means one who seeks to live a holy life. These statues honor ordinary people who lived their faith with courage and humility. Others noticed and were helped. As an ordained women, I have some differences with the Catholic church, but honoring women and men-- mentors in the faith who have followed Jesus-- is not one of them.

When the rain slowed, I walked back to the entrance of the church. I turned and surveyed the sanctuary. Jesus was right in the center surrounded by statues reminding all who enter the church that many of his followers point the way to active faith energized by the Spirit. As I neared the exit, there was one more statue, I paused to see who it was: Joseph. Everybody in the family, present and accounted for.

* Quotations from: The New Testament: Freshly translated with a cutting-edge commentary. Nicholas King, S.J. (Kevin Mayhew Ltd: London, 2004, 2012).