From Dogmatic Definition to Co-Redeemer?
Devotion to Mary and her cult in the Roman Catholic Church arises out of an eager imagination coupled with a pious sentiment that ever celebrates Mary herself as a more-than-worthy object of attention. This is a church-wide phenomenon that is socially and theologically validated in many ways and is therefore found among both the laity and bishops alike. From statues carved, painted, dressed, and then paraded through the streets of the faithful; to the novenas dedicated to the honor of Mary over the course of nine days; to the exuberant hymns sung at the Mass and on special occasions of veneration; and finally to the rosaries repeated both in church and at home—Roman Catholic Marian devotion appears at times to have a life all its own.
This same Marian pious sentiment is also evident, more formally, in careful theological expression in terms of some of the more popular doctrines and titles that have been attributed to Mary over time. These include the immaculate conception, the assumption, and Mary as intercessor, mediatrix, and even possibly as co-redemptrix. The careful reader will discern that these teachings at times appear to imply one another. Once a particular Marian doctrine is in place, it seems that another is already waiting in the wings for its articulate theological expression and for its more popular cult. It is to these doctrines that we now turn.
The recent forays of a few of the neo-atheists, such as Sam Harris, into the teachings of the Christian faith indicate just how poorly the doctrine of the immaculate conception is understood beyond the church. Thinking that he is actually engaged in a bit of serious criticism of the doctrinal heritage of the church, Harris takes up the well-worn argument that the language of Isaiah 7:14 does not specify a virgin but merely refers to a “young woman.”1 He then goes on to conclude in an observation that is stunning in both its confusion and ineptitude: “It seems all but certain that the Christian dogma of the Immaculate Conception, and much of the church’s anxiety about sex, was the result of a mistranslation from the Hebrew.”2 However, contrary to the judgment of Harris, the doctrine of the immaculate conception is not about how Jesus was born (of a virgin) but about how Mary was conceived (without original sin). It’s not a teaching about Christ but about Mary.
In contrast to the fumbling of Harris, the Catechism, taking up the language of Pope Pius IX in his encyclical Ineffabilis Deus, states the doctrine both clearly and succinctly: “The most Blessed Virgin Mary was, from the first moment of her conception, by a singular grace and privilege of almighty God and by virtue of the merits of Jesus Christ, Savior of the human race, preserved immune from all stain of original sin.”3 Since neither the Eastern Orthodox nor Protestants affirm the immaculate conception, certainly not in the way that Pope Pius did in 1854, the declaration of this particular teaching as dogma, that is, as one required to be believed by all the faithful, demonstrates once again that the grounding authority here in the nineteenth century is actually sola Roma, or Rome alone. Such a judgment does not deny that Rome tried to substantiate this teaching; it did so, and in several ways, not just one. However, the preeminent appeal here is to the present and ongoing teaching authority of the church itself, specifically in the form of the papacy, though the doctrine of papal infallibility was yet to be declared. Rome does, after all, appeal to earlier church tradition to buttress a doctrinal case that is actually made on other grounds. Thus, for example, the Roman Catholic Church has claimed that “it was customary for the Fathers to refer to the Mother of God as all holy and free from every stain of sin.” Yet Schaff had already reported in his own age that the ante-Nicene fathers, for instance, made no such affirmation. In fact, “far from teaching that Mary was free from hereditary sin,” he observes, “[they] do not even expressly exempt her from actual sin.”4 Origen may refer obliquely to the substance of this doctrine in his Homilies, but this is far from enough evidence to warrant the assertion that “it was customary for the Fathers” to refer to Mary in these terms.5 It may be helpful to ask whether the phrase “free from every stain of sin,” as employed by both Ambrose and Ephraem Syrus, for instance, is a general expression of holiness that can occur in later life or a pointed reference to the manner in which Mary was conceived.6 Moreover, if this special doctrine with respect to Mary’s conception is so evident in the church fathers, then why has Eastern Orthodoxy by and large rejected it?7 At any rate, as with so much else in church history, it often takes considerable time for weighty doctrines to develop and mature, and that is clearly the case here.
The teaching that Mary was conceived apart from original sin, meaning also that she was born without a carnal nature, came into its own in the Middle Ages, in the eleventh century in particular, when Anselm, the archbishop of Canterbury, became one of its more able proponents. By this point Mary had already been known in clerical life as well as in popular piety as the second Eve, theotokos, and ever virgin. Some of the faithful began to reflect further on these matters and to draw some conclusions that seemed obvious to them, though they were doubted by others. The teaching of Mary’s “special gift” became more popular in the following century, especially since the recitation of the “Hail Mary,” which affirmed that the mother of Christ was “full of grace,”8 was introduced at this time, as noted earlier.
Such developments were not without their opposition. Both Bernard of Clairvaux in the twelfth century and Thomas Aquinas in the thirteenth (though the latter may have finally assented to this doctrine) charged that if Mary “had been conceived without original sin, she did not need redemption—which would detract from ‘the dignity of Christ as the Universal Savior of all.’”9 To illustrate, in the Summa Theologica, Aquinas reasoned as follows: “And thus, in whatever manner the Blessed Virgin would have been sanctified before animation, she could never have incurred the stain of original sin: and thus she would not have needed redemption and salvation which is by Christ, of Whom it is written (Matt. 1:21): He shall save His people from their sins. But this is unfitting, through implying that Christ is not the Saviour of all men, as He is called (1 Tim. 4:10).”10
Aware of this criticism as well as the subtlety of what Aquinas had argued, Duns Scotus, for his part, contended that this special grace and honor of Mary could be understood in three different ways: “It was . . . possible for God (1) to preserve her from original sin or (2) to rescue her from it within an instant of her conception (as Thomas Aquinas taught), so that, though conceived in sin, she was born pure of sin, or (3) to purify her of it at the end of a period of time.”11 Developing a theological method known as “maximalism,” Scotus reasoned that it was better to falsely attribute an honor to Mary than to possibly take a real one away.12 However, for some in the church even back then, it was not a matter of “whether it was possible for her to be conceived without [original sin], but whether in fact she was conceived without it.”13
In the fifteenth century, in 1439, the Council of Basel declared that the immaculate conception was “a pious doctrine, in conformity with the worship of the church, the [Roman] Catholic faith, right reason, and Holy Scripture.”14 And although the theological faculty of Paris reaffirmed this teaching in 1497,15 Erasmus, the gifted Christian humanist, apparently had his doubts in the following century, as revealed in his satirical work Praise of Folly: “The apostles knew personally the mother of Jesus, but which of them proved how she had been kept immaculate from Adam’s sin with the logic our theologians display?”16
As the Reformation of the Western church got under way—and Protestants, by the way, did not have a unified view on this topic17—the Council of Trent finally took up the issue of Mary and original sin in a late session and decreed: “This same holy Synod doth nevertheless declare, that it is not its intention to include in this decree, where original sin is treated of, the blessed and immaculate Virgin Mary, the mother of God.”18 However, this teaching did not achieve formal dogmatic status, whereby it would have to be affirmed by all the faithful, until as late as the nineteenth century, when Pope Pius IX proclaimed it in his encyclical Ineffabilis Deus in 1854, as reported earlier.
Roman Catholic folk theology eventually expressed these doctrinal developments a few years later, in 1858, when Bernadette Soubirous, a fourteen-year-old French peasant girl, claimed that a lady had spoken to her and revealed herself as the immaculate conception. The Roman Catholic hierarchy at the time was naturally delighted about the prospects of such an apparition for the ongoing cult of Mary. Not surprisingly, then, Bernadette was not only held up as a worthy example of what popular piety should look like, but she was also elevated rather quickly (given the time it often takes to be declared a saint) to the status of sainthood by Pope Pius XI on December 8, 1933.
Nevertheless, some of the most recent attempts at a defense of Mary’s supposed special gift have floundered. Christian Smith, for example, the newly converted Roman Catholic, backed himself into a theological corner by attempting to defend this teaching along the following lines: “The underlying idea is that if Mary was a sinner, then Jesus would have inherited the sin of his human parent. The Incarnation therefore needed a mother preserved from the stain of original sin to bear the Son sinless.”19 However, in this line of reasoning, in order for Mary to be pure, she herself would need to have been born of parents who were themselves free from the stain of original sin, and in order for that to happen, then the parents of Anna and Joachim (the names traditionally given to Mary’s parents) would likewise need to have been pure themselves, and so on and on it goes in a pointless, feckless chain.
Contrary to these theological developments, both the weight of Scripture and tradition challenge the easy assumption that Mary was without original sin by pointing out possible incidences that display some of her faults and possibly even her actual sin (which would entail at some point a corrupted nature). Indeed, though we have listed above the many Scripture references that pertain to Mary, it is now appropriate to point out that not all of them are good. Take Mark 3:20–21, for example: “Then Jesus entered a house, and again a crowd gathered, so that he and his disciples were not even able to eat. When his family [which may have included Mary] heard about this, they went to take charge of him, for they said, ‘He is out of his mind.’” Did the family of Jesus, then, so mistake his person and character that they misjudged him to be insane? And what does such a judgment suggest about the spiritual state of those who made it, relatives who surely should have known better? And then there is the praise offered to Mary by a woman in a crowd who called out to Jesus, “Blessed is the mother who gave you birth and nursed you” (Luke 11:27). The reply of Jesus is remarkable in its frankness: “Blessed rather [Greek μενοῦν, menoun] are those who hear the word of God and obey it” (Luke 11:28). Why then, given Mary’s supposed immaculate conception, her lofty status, did Jesus not immediately agree with the woman and at least mention some of Mary’s greatness, a few of her accolades? Why did he pass up this opportunity in the face of such holiness and unique splendor? More important, why did he immediately change the very nature of the praise and refer instead not to Mary but to those who “hear the word of God and obey it”? In a similar vein, John Chrysostom in the fourth century found Mary’s behavior at Cana to be troubling. He attributed her conduct at this wedding feast “to undue haste, a sort of unholy ambition.”20 And as Tim Perry points out, “Tertullian does not shy away from including Mary among Jesus’ opponents prior to the resurrection and from indicting her as an example of unbelief.”21 These are hardly the makings of a woman who was immaculately conceived.
Just what is at stake here, theologically speaking? We take the criticism of both Bernard of Clairvaux and Thomas Aquinas very seriously, since we, too, believe that the elevation of Mary, declaring that she was conceived without a carnal nature, does indeed detract from the uniqueness and the dignity of Jesus Christ as the Savior of all humanity; nevertheless we also see something here that is far more basic and that therefore constitutes a direct affront to any sound Christology. That is, if Mary lacked original sin and therefore lacked a carnal nature, then she was like no other human being who has ever lived. In such a theological configuration, Mary is unlike Jesus because she was not divine, yet she is unlike the rest of humanity because she lacked original sin, a carnal nature. Thus she is not connected to Adam either as her federal head or as her origin. She is therefore unlike all the rest of humanity, in a class all her own.
What is being eclipsed here, in a roundabout sort of way, is the true humanity of Mary, and along with it nothing less than the true humanity of Christ as well.22 Once the latter is undermined, so is the unique status of Jesus as the God/Human. Since Mariological doctrines do indeed have christological consequences, the affirmation of the immaculate conception in effect denies that Jesus was truly human simply because he was not born of a woman who herself was really human, like the rest of humanity. Set apart in a category all her own, as theologians doing constructive theology have left her, Mary approaches perhaps a demigod, a distinct class of being in significant ontological power (see below) but not a genuine human being, certainly not any human being whom we have ever known. After the fall of Adam and Eve and with its universal consequences in place, the only way one could be free from original sin would entail nothing less than being divine. Though sin is not essential to human nature but represents its corruption, Mary is still a sinner, because, like the rest of humanity, she is related to Adam, but unlike Jesus, she is by no means divine. As fully divine, Jesus is not merely human, even though he is fully human.23 Mary, however, was merely human, and as such she was not spared the universal corruption spread by Adam. That’s precisely why the God/Human had to come in the first place. So then, Jesus was not born of a demigod or of some intermediate being between God and humanity, in a special class all by herself. Rather, Christ was born of a real woman who herself needed redemption, as the Gospel of Luke clearly attests (Luke 1:47). Jesus, then, was, is, and remains the Savior of all people, Mary included.
Bodily Assumption: Deny This and the Faith Will Fall?
When the doctrine of the immaculate conception was formally articulated by the pope in the nineteenth century, there was already significant support for another Marian teaching. However, the notion of the bodily assumption of Mary into heaven was not declared dogma by the pope, in this case the later Pius XII, until November 1, 1950, on All Saints’ Day. The words of his encyclical Munificentissimus Deus state the substance of what is now required to be affirmed by all the Roman Catholic faithful: “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.”24
What is so very odd about Pius XII’s dogmatic venture (esp. for church historians) is the censure or condemnation that comes immediately after this particular Marian declaration: “Hence if anyone, which God forbid, should dare willfully to deny or to call into doubt that which we have defined, let him know that he has fallen away completely from the divine and [Roman] Catholic Faith.”25 Part of the difficulty here, as will be demonstrated shortly, is that not only is such a teaching not evidenced in the NT or represented in the faith of the early church, but it also lacks significant support from the ongoing ecclesiastical tradition itself, until beyond the early centuries of the church. Moreover, though Pius XII no doubt believed his proclamation to be an exercise of his infallibility, something spoken ex cathedra, nevertheless, his centering of this teaching at the very heart of the Christian faith, such that those who for the sake of their conscience, for instance, cannot affirm its substance and as a consequence have “fallen away completely” from the faith—that is simply hyperbole, to say the least. If this teaching were so important for the very substance of the faith, then why did ante-Nicene Christianity know virtually nothing of it? Indeed, even later, during the fourth century, Ambrose and Epiphanius were evidently still ignorant of this doctrine in its substantive form.26 However, Epiphanius did indeed speculate about the possibility that Mary had never died, though he never came to a conclusion on this particular matter.27
If apocryphal narratives such as The Assumption of Mary28 or Liber Requiei Mariae29 (The book of Mary’s repose), as well as forgeries, are bracketed out of consideration, then an early expression of the essential elements taught regarding the assumption of Mary may be during the fifth century in material drawn from “Coptic Christianity under marked Gnostic influence.”30 In Western Christianity the doctrine does not appear until the sixth century, as defended by Gregory of Tours.31 By the eighth century a feast day in accordance with this teaching began to be celebrated throughout Europe on August 15.32 In the East during this same period, John Damascene had associated a number of triumphalist psalms with Mary, a fact picked up by Pope Pius XII in his own encyclical.33 Describing the honor that earlier theologians and preachers had accorded Mary on this theme, the pope wrote of the “Queen entering triumphantly into the royal halls of heaven and sitting at the right hand of the divine Redeemer,” a reference to, though not the exact language of, Psalm 44(45):10–14.34 Such an expression, drawn loosely from the OT, is similar to that employed by Sister Maria de Jesus de Ágreda in the seventeenth century in her Life of the Virgin Mary. In this work she tied these same psalms to a decidedly Christian perspective and exclaimed: “Mary was elevated to the right hand of her son and the true God, and situated at the same royal throne of the Most Blessed Trinity.”35 This same glorification of Mary by earlier and later writers resulted not only in the affirmation that she is “Queen over all things” but also in the claim that, to use the words of the Catechism, she enjoys “a singular participation in her Son’s resurrection and an anticipation of the resurrection of other Christians,”36 an honor that is nowhere found in Scripture and actually undermines some of its basic affirmations: Christ alone is the firstfruits of the resurrection (1 Cor. 15:20, 23), a first that is not shared by or parceled out to another. Second, there is no other salvific resurrection (beyond Christ’s resurrection) but the one that is to come, in which all the just, not simply Mary, will be raised to glory.
Intercessor or Mediator?
As the body of Christ goes through history, that holy and blessed communion is made up of both the church militant, those who are still struggling on the earth in the face of trials and persecution, and the church triumphant, those who are in the presence of Christ in glory (2 Cor. 5:6–8). As the early church so clearly recognized, the example of the holy lives left by Mary and the saints is not only an encouragement to the church militant but also something that should be emulated. Naturally Christians of the first three centuries revered Mary and the saints, and a genuine progression can be discerned in such veneration. To illustrate, up until around the year 300, commemorations at the tombs of the saints were marked by prayers for the repose of their souls.37 By the way, these festivities at the gravesite, especially when they involved food, marked the nearly utter gentile orientation of the church by this point, since this practice was viewed as distasteful to Jews, who for their part avoided contact with dead bodies (Num. 19:11) and therefore did not arrange for suppers to be held anywhere near them in graveyards.38 Alister McGrath suggests that honoring the Christian dead with such meals at the tombs was actually absorbed from “Traditional Roman [pagan] religion.”39 At any rate, by the late sixth century, prayer for the saints had become “prayer to God through the saints.”40 Beyond this, in the folk theology that had emerged by the twelfth century, both Mary and the saints became the distinct objects of prayer. The faithful now prayed directly to them, as intercessors of course, nevertheless to them.
Lest there be misunderstanding, we are not denying that either Mary or any of the saints in glory continue to offer their prayers and supplications to the Most High on behalf of the church militant. The church is one, whether on earth or in heaven. In fact, such a form of intercessory prayer appears to be supported by Scripture in the OT in terms of reference to a cloud of witnesses (as observed in Heb. 12:1) or in the NT as those who bore testimony in the past, presently cry out in a loud voice, and will soon receive a white robe (Rev. 6:9–10; 7:14–17).41 Moreover, both Ambrose and Augustine affirmed this basic truth that describes the nature of the church, which is active both on earth and in heaven. Augustine, for example, states: “For we cannot, they say, believe that the saints shall lose their bowels of compassion when they have attained the most perfect and complete holiness.”42 We strongly agree.
It is necessary, however, to make two further distinctions on this topic for the sake of clarity. First, it is one thing for the saints in heaven, Mary of course included, to exercise their freedom and to pray for the church militant. Contemporary views on this matter, found among some Protestant fundamentalists, for instance, will not eliminate this freedom of the saints in heaven; nor can the objectors possibly limit, despite their protests, this graciously offered intercessory prayer. However, it is quite a different thing for the church militant to pray to the church triumphant directly, as if those on earth knew with certainty precisely those who are in glory: “The righteousness that is by faith says: ‘Do not say in your heart, “Who will ascend into heaven?”’ (that is, to bring Christ down) ‘or “Who will descend into the deep?”’ (that is, to bring Christ up from the dead)” (Rom. 10:6–7). With the exception of Mary, of course, whose eternal sanctity for us is beyond question, the problem of hypocrisy and even deception is very real. In the end only God knows the human heart. Thus, lacking omniscience, a trait that pertains to God alone, the faithful on earth are likely to err in naming the saints. Oddly enough, one may even find oneself praying to the damned.43
But even with these caveats and the one exception in mind, it is best not to approach Mary directly as an intercessor, despite her undoubted sanctity, for the reason that John Calvin had recognized in his own age: “It is a common opinion among them, that we need intercessors, because in ourselves we are unworthy of appearing in the presence of God. By speaking in this manner, they deprive Christ of his honour.”44 So although we affirm the intercessory role of Mary and the saints as they pray for the church militant, we do not uphold an intercessory role in the sense of the church on earth approaching Mary and the saints (whoever they may be) who are in heaven. Christ alone should be the object of requests for intercession in this sense. Indeed, the temple curtain has been torn in two (Matt. 27:51), and the unworthiness of any sinner should not bar the way or displace Christ’s gracious and distinct mediatorial role. Only he is the perfect intercessor, a perfection that others lack quite simply because Christ alone is the God/Human. Again, he and he alone is a bridge in ways that all others cannot be.
Second, we obviously support intercession in the sense of standing alongside fellow believers. However, there is another movement, and though it has the appearance of the first, at least initially, it ends up making both Mary and the saints genuine mediators, those who are not really standing beside believers who are offering intercessory prayers so much as standing in between such believers and Christ and hence functioning as supposed intermediaries. The first role can be recognized and affirmed, underscoring the unity of the church militant and triumphant; the second, however, must be rejected as necessarily detracting from the unique office of the God/Human, Jesus Christ. It is both the humanity and the divinity of Christ, a divinity that Mary and the saints so obviously lack, that render the Messiah the one and only mediator between God and humanity.
So then, in a way that many others have not, we have distinguished between intercession and mediation, between standing alongside, which we affirm, and coming in between, which we do not. Such a differentiation is reflected, once again, in the work of John Calvin. In his Institutes, for example, he states: “Christ, therefore, is the only Mediator by whose intercession the Father is rendered propitious and exorable (1 Tim. 2:5). For though the saints are still permitted to use intercessions, by which they mutually beseech God in behalf of each other’s salvation, . . . yet these depend on that one intercession [in reality mediation], so far are they from derogating from it.”45
Mediatrix: Mary in the Middle
That Mary was not simply an intercessor but a genuine mediator between God and humanity apparently emerged first in Eastern theology.46 The term “Mediatrix” is not found in Scripture, and it did not even gain currency in the West until toward the end of the eighth century.47 A more developed use of the term can be seen in the writings of Bernard of Clairvaux, who during the twelfth century referred to Mary as “our Mediatrix, . . . the one through whom we have received thy mercy, O God.”48 Blurring the lines between intercession and mediation, the Roman Catholic Church today confounds these two very different roles (standing alongside/coming in between), as is evident in the language of the Catechism: “[Mary] . . . by her manifold intercession continues to bring us the gifts of eternal salvation. . . . Therefore the Blessed Virgin is invoked in the Church under the titles of Advocate, Helper, Benefactress, and Mediatrix.”49 This same language, by the way, was repeated at Vatican II.50 More recently, Pope John Paul II, for his part, quickly moved from intercession to mediation in his encyclical Redemptoris Mater: “Mary places herself between her Son and mankind in the reality of their wants, needs and sufferings. She puts herself ‘in the middle,’ that is to say she acts as a mediatrix not as an outsider, but in her position as mother.”51 Other titles along these lines ascribed to Mary include “Mother to us in the order of grace,”52 “Ark of the Covenant,”53 “the Window of Paradise,”54 and even “the Gate of Heaven.”55 Like the popes throughout much of the history of the church, Mary keeps on acquiring new titles over time, so deep is the fund of piety and religious imagination.
From the sixteenth century forward, Rome has been aware of Protestant criticism on this particular issue and has attempted to shunt aside such censure in its simple declaration that “Mary’s function as mother of men [that is, as mediatrix] in no way obscures or diminishes this unique mediation of Christ, but rather shows its power.”56 However, from the Protestant perspective, obscuring and diminishing Christ’s mediation are exactly what the title of mediatrix does. Rome’s declaration, then, does not obviate a discussion on this matter but actually requires it. Thus, what the Catechism and Vatican II so readily assume must in the end be called into question. In fact, Rome’s (again from a Protestant perspective) dismissive response here, which is supposed to shut down any possible objection, is in fact formulaic, given this theological tradition’s other pronouncements in areas that are similarly contested. To illustrate, the careful reader will recall that after John Paul II had ventured into the troubled waters of the ordination of women in his Letter to Women, composed in 1995, and after he had in effect declared that the matter is forever closed, he then offered a statement that was supposed to make all further criticism pointless, in a way remarkably similar to Rome’s earlier Marian response just recounted above: “This in no way detracts from the role of women.”57 Once again, that’s exactly what it does.
Jesus and Mary as Co-Redeemers?
With the language of “Mediatrix” well represented in the official documents of the Roman Catholic Church, it was but a small step (at least in the eyes of some) to move from that vaunted title to one of flat out co-redemption, that is, Mary as “Co-Redemptrix.” Indeed, Mary’s cause in terms of her supposed work as a co-redeemer or co-savior along with Jesus Christ has been championed since the 1920s with ups and downs along the way. During this early period, the Belgian leader Cardinal Désiré-Joseph Mercier got the ball rolling, so to speak, and he was aided in his efforts by Rev. Maximilian Kolbe.58 Since that time over eight hundred cardinals and bishops have beseeched numerous popes to make an infallible declaration (and hence dogma) of Mary’s special role as co-redemptrix in the economy of salvation.59 More recently, a large box of petitions to accord Mary this title (which numbered over forty thousand) appeared on the steps of the Vatican in 1997.60
Those who were eager to have the so-called fifth Marian doctrine declared (beyond theotokos, perpetual virginity, immaculate conception, and assumption) no doubt thought that their cause would be successful under the pontificate of John Paul II. Indeed, so devoted was this popular pope to Mary and her cult that he even had the letter “M” (which stood for Mary) emblazoned on his papal, personal coat of arms. Moreover, this was the same pope who, once again in his encyclical Redemptoris Mater, named the second part of this work “The Mother of God at the Center of the Pilgrim Church.”61 Indeed, Mary at the very center of the body of Christ was precisely the theme that Pope John Paul II took up when he addressed the faithful in Guayaquil, Ecuador: “Having suffered for the Church, Mary deserved to become the Mother of all the disciples of her Son, the Mother of their unity. . . . In fact Mary’s role as co-redemptrix did not cease with the glorification of her Son.”62
Furthermore, though John Paul II obviously did not balk at using this particular title for Mary, and though this language repeatedly appears in Roman Catholic literature (e.g., in the book Mariology: A Guide for Priests, Deacons, Seminarians, and Consecrated Persons,63 which, by the way, contains an imprimatur), there has yet to be any formal declaration of this teaching to give it the status of dogma. In fact, both the Catechism and the documents from Vatican II are careful to avoid the specific language of co-redemptrix, though some may argue that the idea is actually present in each. The Catechism, for example, states: “This union of the mother with the Son in the work of salvation is made manifest from the time of Christ’s virginal conception up to his death.”64 And Vatican II, for its part, declared: “In celebrating this annual cycle of the mysteries of Christ, Holy Church honors the Blessed Mary, Mother of God, with a special love. She is inseparably linked with her son’s saving work.”65
Despite this lack of official recognition, the doctrine of Mary as co-redemptrix, in the absence of sound biblical support, is already believed by many Roman Catholics, popes of the past included. From our perspective, it may be only a matter of time before official teaching will finally catch up with popular piety if Rome follows the same pattern of doctrinal “development” it has in the past. In fact, this trend is already beginning to happen. To illustrate, in 2009 cardinals and bishops from all around the world asked Pope Benedict XVI to declare officially that Mary is to be venerated as nothing less than “Co-Redemptrix, Mediatrix of all graces, and Advocate.”66 In January 2017, the International Marian Association, representing the voices of over one hundred bishops, priests, and theologians, published a document requesting that, during the 2017 centenary anniversary of the Marian Apparitions at Fatima, Portugal, Pope Francis “kindly grant public recognition and honor to the role of the Blessed Virgin Mary for her unique human cooperation with the one divine Redeemer in the work of Redemption as ‘Co-redemptrix with Jesus the Redeemer.’”67 Given the structure of authority in the Roman Catholic Church, with its pointed hierarchy, the champions of this cause only have to win once, so to speak, for once a teaching is declared as dogma, it is then for all practical purposes irrevocable (since a reversal would contradict the infallibility of the pope and undermine the authority of the papacy). And the Marian cause may just have one of its best friends in Pope Francis, devoted as he is to Mary “the Untier,” the one who loosens knots and sets the captives free! We will not be surprised, then, if this dogmatic declaration happens sometime in the twenty-first century, if not with Francis then perhaps with another pope. The Marian doctrinal accretions already in place almost require it.
Mary’s redemptive status was elevated through an unfortunate mistranslation of Genesis 3:15, and this error has contributed to the exaggerated claims that are sometimes made about Mary in Roman Catholic theology. That text appears in the fall narrative and is recognized as the first prophecy of the coming of Christ: “And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel.” The Roman Catholic Douay–Rheims version translates this text in such a way as to suggest that it is a prophecy about Mary. Instead of “he will crush,” it says “she shall crush,” and instead of “his heel,” it says “her heel.” This famous mistranslation, which has significantly affected artistic depictions of Mary, was based on the Vulgate, the fifth-century Latin translation of the Bible.68 Contemporary Roman apologists have acknowledged the mistranslation yet defend the Marian claim on other grounds. Indeed, the myth that Mary crushed the serpent’s head is perpetuated in a number of statues and paintings and it is enshrined in the famous statue of Mary that stands atop the fabled Golden Dome at the University of Notre Dame.
Should Mary Then Be Worshiped?
By the early fourth century there was as yet little of the considerable cult that surrounds Mary in the Roman Catholic Church today. For example, during this period Basil the Great’s writings lack any trace of such devotion.69 However, toward the end of this same century a distinct change does indeed occur in the writings of Ephraem Syrus, a Syrian theologian and sometime composer of hymns. Combining a desire to honor Mary with his own gift for expression (which shines through even in translation), the ordained deacon drafted the following hymn:
O pure and immaculate and likewise blessed Virgin, who art the sinless Mother of thy Son, the mighty Lord of the universe, thou who are inviolate and altogether holy, the hope of the hopeless and sinful, we sing thy praises. . . . Make us worthy of the glory of thy Son, O dearest and most clement Virgin Mother. Thou indeed are our only hope most sure and sacred in God’s sight to whom be honor and glory, majesty and dominion forever and ever world without end. Amen.70
Ephraem’s poetic license here led him into the theologically troubled and confused territory of making Mary the object of the sinner’s hope, something that she herself—during her own sojourn on the earth, steeped as she was in deep humility—never did for herself. Her gaze was directed toward her Son. And though the name of Mary was obviously invoked in the East during the fourth century and even earlier (though of less importance), the first Latin hymn addressing Mary did not appear until the fifth century.71
By the time of Augustine, who died a year before the Council of Ephesus met in 431, this bishop of Hippo recognized that the cult of Mary (and of the saints!) was growing so strongly that appropriate theological distinctions would have to be put into place. This effort was deemed necessary in order to keep veneration within the proper bounds lest it result in outright worship and therefore idolatry. In his City of God, for example, Augustine reasoned: “But that service which is due to men, and in reference to which the apostle writes that servants must be subject to their own masters, is usually designated by another word in Greek [δουλεία, douleia] whereas the service paid to God alone by worship is always, or almost always, called λατρεία [latreia] in the usage of those who wrote from the divine oracles.”72
During the High Middle Ages, in the thirteenth century, Marian devotion continued apace and became so considerable that Thomas Aquinas believed that the language of douleia and latreia was no longer adequate to describe the distinct honor and veneration owed to Mary. He observed: “Consequently the worship of latria is not due to any mere rational creature for its own sake. Since, therefore, the Blessed Virgin is a mere rational creature, the worship of latria is not due to her, but only that of dulia: but in a higher degree than to other creatures, inasmuch as she is the Mother of God. For this reason we say that not any kind of dulia is due to her, but hyperdulia.”73
Though theologians like Aquinas could revel in tight, fine theological differentiations that supposedly kept the forces of idolatry at bay, others were not so convinced. As a moderate Christian humanist who sought the moral reform of the Roman Catholic Church, Erasmus jabbed at the “aberrations of late medieval piety” surrounding the veneration of Mary.74 His aim, among other things, was to return Christ to his rightful place not only in the economy of salvation but also in that popular piety that had in some respects gone astray. Much more forcefully, John Calvin (employing admittedly intemperate language, typical of the controversies of his day—though he made a necessary theological point) fulminated against the scholastics with folk like Aquinas clearly in mind: “That I may omit to say that they babble through childish ignorance, how many of them do understand that rotten distinction [between douleia, latreia, and hyperdouleia]?”75 The Genevan Reformer then added his theological coup de grâce: “Neither do I speak only of the common sort, but of the chieftains. Therefore, all their worshippings must needs be infected and corrupt with wicked superstition, seeing they unadvisedly match creatures with God.”76 Despite Calvin’s rhetoric, surely Rome can recognize the substance of his point that these theological subtleties, which give such comfort to its theologians, are surely lost on many of the laity, who invariably fall into enslaving, superstitious idolatry. As shepherds of their flock, the members of the magisterium must surely take pastoral responsibility for some of the more aberrant forms of folk religion that have emerged in their midst.
Newman’s Arian Marian Piety
Given this history, Roman Catholics of late, even laity, have been especially sensitive in this area—and with good reason. In a manner that some would consider to be overly defensive, Christian Smith, for example, commands evangelicals (yes, he does indeed use the imperative!): “Correct your understanding of the veneration of Mary and the saints.”77 Smith, however, is apparently not appreciably aware of the interpretive dynamic surrounding Mary that has played out not simply in Protestant historically driven apologetics but also in Roman Catholic scholarship itself. Accordingly, our response in light of his demand will proceed by citing a Roman Catholic theologian, even one of its most celebrated authors from the nineteenth century. However, before concluding this chapter with the Marian observations of John Henry Newman, we observe that the great church historian Jaroslav Pelikan, in careful and evenhanded scholarship, has discerned a “methodology of amplification” that has played out in this burgeoning Mariology. Once Mary was deemed by her devotees to be “higher than the cherubim, more glorious than the seraphim,”78 she was fair game “to be regarded as not unworthy of any of the honors and privileges that had, according to the Scriptures of both the Old and New Testament, been conferred on others.”79 With this amplification in place, which represented a distinct attitude and determination of will, the entire Bible was then sifted for any title that could possibly be applied to Mary. Thus, in quoting the church fathers and others, Newman pointed out in one of his own works, and with appreciation, that Mary was “signified by the Pillar of the cloud,”80 according to Ambrose; by “the Rod out of the stem of Jesse,”81 according to Jerome; by “the Eastern gate through which the High Priest alone goes in and out,”82 according to Saint Niles; by “the Morning Star,”83 according to Antiochus; and—perhaps the most troubling accolade of all—by “God’s only bridge to man,”84 according to Proclus.
So attracted was Cardinal Newman, this Roman Catholic convert, to the cult of Mary, so taken up was he with its defense, that in his book An Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine he reached even further, well beyond any of the lofty titles that had already been ascribed to Mary by an energetic piety. Thinking that he was carefully honoring the distinctions between douleia, latreia, and hyperdoulia, Newman actually ended up, in his Marian ruminations, filling in a niche of veneration that was best left empty. Going back to the Arian controversy of the fourth century for suitable materials, the cardinal reasoned in the following fashion: The church in rightly condemning Arianism had “discovered a new sphere, if we may so speak, in the realms of light, to which the Church had not yet assigned its inhabitant.”85 Thus there should be little concern about filling this sphere with the proper person so long as the distinction between creature and eternal Creator is maintained, for even the highest celebration of what in fact is a creature (the problem of Arianism) does not detract from the honor and glory of God alone. In the words of Newman himself, “The highest of creatures is levelled with the lowest in comparison of the One Creator Himself.”86 So then, with these distinctions in place, Newman felt entitled, even obligated, to fill in this “new sphere” with “‘the Mother of fair love, and fear, and holy hope,’ . . . created from the beginning before the world in God’s everlasting counsels.”87 Mary, the mother of Christ, in the estimation of Newman, now became resident in the sphere left in the wake of the heresy of Arianism. What was inappropriate for Christ has now been moved over to Mary. Every honor short of the divine, then, could be given to Mary; she was deemed to be that special.
If Newman had simply left it at this in his Marian speculations, then perhaps the situation would not have been so theologically problematic. However, in trying to bring additional glory to Mary, he continued his foray—and this move got him into all sorts of theological trouble. Carrying over his earlier observations on Arianism and fitting them now, appropriate or not, into the great christological council of Ephesus, Newman reasoned:
I have said that there was in the first ages no public and ecclesiastical recognition of the place which St. Mary holds in the Economy of grace; this was reserved for the fifth century, as the definition of our Lord’s proper Divinity had been the work of the fourth. There was a controversy contemporary with those already mentioned, I mean the Nestorian, which brought out the complement of the development, to which they had been subservient; and which, if I may so speak, supplied the subject of that august proposition of which Arianism had provided the predicate.88
Newman is doing at least three things in this passage. First of all, he is relating the work of the Councils of Nicaea and Constantinople—which together articulated “the definition of our Lord’s proper Divinity”89—to that labor of the Council of Ephesus, which treated “the place which St. Mary holds in the Economy of grace.”90 Second, Newman maintains that Nestorianism brought out “the complement of the development” of the earlier controversies, not simply a teaching about Christ but also a proper parallel doctrine about Mary. Third, and most troubling of all, Newman contends in this passage that Arianism “provided the predicate”—meaning here the attributes, traits, titles, and honors—for the subject, meaning Mary, a subject that was provided by the Council of Ephesus.
What, then, are some of those attributes that make up the predicate that Arianism supplied and that in the judgment of Newman should rightfully be applied to Mary? The cardinal himself lists them: “having an ineffable origin before all worlds,”91 “the Intercessor for man with God,”92 and “the Object of worship, the Image of the Father.”93 However, next come the glorifications of Mary that even more forcefully cross the line: “God of the Evangelical Covenant”94 and “Creator of the Universe.”95 To be sure, Arius applied all these attributes to Christ; nevertheless, they left the Lord merely a being who was brought into existence before the creation of the world. The distinction, then, between a very exalted creature (who at some point comes into being) and the eternal God, so developed by Arius in his aberrant Christology, provides no license or authority whatsoever for Newman to move such heretically supposed “christological” traits from Christ, for whom they are indeed heretical in the larger scheme of things, to Mary, for whom they are supposedly not heretical. In other words, the sphere that Arianism had created in between God and humanity, the stuff of demigods, if you will, should not be filled by Mary. Once again, this dimension is best left empty. It is the stuff of which only heresy can be made. Therefore, the imperative “Correct your understanding of the veneration of Mary and the saints”96 is preeminently a counsel not for evangelicals or for broader Protestants but for Roman Catholics themselves.
1. Sam Harris, The End of Faith: Religion, Terror, and the Future of Reason (New York: Norton, 2004), 95.
2. Ibid.
3. Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2nd ed. (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1994), par. 491.
4. Philip Schaff, The Creeds of Christendom, vol. 1, The History of the Creeds (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1983), 116–17.
5. See Frederick Holweck, “Immaculate Conception” (under the heading “The Absolute Purity of Mary”), The Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. 7 (New York: Robert Appleton Co., 1910), New Advent, http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/07674d.htm.
6. Ibid.
7. Few references to Mary are evident in the Apostolic Fathers. The four that do surface are all found in the writings of Ignatius of Antioch, To the Ephesians 7.2; 18.2; 19.1; To the Trallians 9—in The Apostolic Fathers with Justin Martyr and Irenaeus, ANF 1:52, 57, and 69–70.
8. This phrase likely refers to Mary’s current condition, not the manner of her conception.
9. Jaroslav Pelikan, Mary through the Centuries (New York: History Book Club, 1996), 195.
10. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, trans. Fathers of the English Dominican Province (London: Burns, Oates & Washbourne, n.d.), IIIa, q. 27, a. 2, ad 2.
11. Pelikan, Mary through the Centuries, 196.
12. Ibid.
13. Ibid.
14. Ibid., 198.
15. Desiderius Erasmus, Praise of Folly (New York: Penguin Classics, 2004), Kindle edition, location 3757n109.
16. Ibid., Kindle ed., locations 1825–26.
17. Luther, e.g., wrote: “But, lest I become too involved, let me state that my position is proved in this one instance, namely, that the Roman church along with the general council at Basel and almost with the whole church feels that the Holy Virgin was conceived without sin. Yet those who hold the opposite opinion should not be considered heretics, since their opinion has not been disproved.” Martin Luther, Career of the Reformer I, LW 31:173.
18. Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 2:88.
19. Christian Smith, How to Go from Being a Good Evangelical to a Committed Catholic in Ninety-Five Difficult Steps (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2011), 124–25 (emphasis added).
20. Philip Schaff, “Prolegomena: The Life and Work of St. John Chrysostom,” in Saint Chrysostom: On the Priesthood, Ascetic Treatises, Select Homilies and Letters, Homilies on the Statues, NPNF1 9:21.
21. Perry, The Blessed Virgin Mary (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013), 23.
22. This is not to suggest that a sinful nature is necessary to be a human being but only to affirm that all humanity, with the notable and singular exception of Jesus Christ, is marked by sin and therefore in need of a Savior (Luke 1:47). Viewed somewhat differently, Christ was born of a real, flesh-and-blood woman, not of one who was “above” the rest of humanity though “below” the Almighty.
23. For more on the difference between fully human and merely human, see Thomas V. Morris, The Logic of God Incarnate (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1986), 62–70.
24. Pope Pius XII, Munificentissimus Deus: Defining the Dogma of the Assumption, par. 44, the Holy See, 1950, http://w2.vatican.va/content/pius-xii/en/apost_constitutions/documents/hf_p-xii_apc_19501101_munificentissimus-deus.html.
25. Ibid., par. 45 (emphasis added).
26. F. L. Cross and Elizabeth A. Livingstone, eds., The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), 118.
27. Stephen J. Shoemaker, The Ancient Traditions of the Virgin Mary’s Dormition and Assumption (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), 13.
28. Alexander Walker, “Apocrypha of the New Testament: Translator’s Introductory Notice,” in Fathers of the Third and Fourth Centuries: The Twelve Patriarchs, Excerpts and Epistles, the Clementina, Apocrypha, Decretals, Memoirs of Edessa and Syriac Documents, Remains of the First Ages, ANF 8:359.
29. “Assumption of Mary,” in New World Encyclopedia, last revised April 21, 2016, http://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/p/index.php?title=Assumption_of_Mary&oldid=995437.
30. R. P. C. Hanson, Tradition in the Early Church (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2009), 259n1.
31. Cross and Livingstone, Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, 118.
32. Ibid., 118–19.
33. Pope Pius XII, Munificentissimus Deus, par. 26, http://w2.vatican.va/content/pius-xii/en/apost_constitutions/documents/hf_p-xii_apc_19501101_munificentissimus-deus.html.
34. This parenthetical reference represents the different ways that Roman Catholics and Protestants number the Psalms in their respective Bibles. The first designation, without parentheses, corresponds to the Roman Catholic version; the number in parentheses, to the Protestant one.
35. Pelikan, Mary through the Centuries, 111.
36. Catechism, par. 966.
37. Earle E. Cairns, Christianity through the Centuries: A History of the Christian Church, 3rd rev. ed. (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2009), Kindle edition, locations 2987–89.
38. Rabbi Michael Katz and Rabbi Gershon Schwartz, Swimming in the Sea of Talmud: Lessons for Everyday Living (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1997), 124, 143.
39. McGrath, Christian History: An Introduction (Hoboken, NJ: Wiley-Blackwell, 2012), 45.
40. Cairns, Christianity through the Centuries, Kindle ed., locations 2987–89.
41. Cross and Livingstone, Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, 1455.
42. Augustine of Hippo, The City of God 21.18, in St. Augustine’s “City of God” and “Christian Doctrine,” trans. Marcus Dods, NPNF1 2:466. For material on Ambrose, see Philip Schaff and Henry Wace, eds., “Prolegomena to St. Ambrose,” in St. Ambrose: Select Works and Letters, NPNF2 10:xiv.
43. I differ from Jerry Walls on this matter. Walls is open to the idea of requesting intercession (mediation, in the view of Collins) from those who have gone before us. In his view, the communion of the saints that allows us to ask persons to pray for us in this life may allow us to ask those who have died to pray for us, despite the possibility that we may be mistaken about their state of grace.
44. John Calvin, Commentaries on the Epistles to Timothy, Titus, and Philemon, trans. William Pringle (Bellingham, WA: Logos Bible Software, 2010), 59.
45. Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, trans. Henry Beveridge (Edinburgh: Calvin Translation Society, 1845), 3.20.19 (2:479–80).
46. Pelikan, Mary through the Centuries, 130–31.
47. Ibid.
48. Ibid., 132.
49. Catechism, par. 969.
50. Pope Paul VI, Lumen Gentium: Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, sec. 62, in The Conciliar and Post Conciliar Documents, vol. 1 of Vatican II, ed. Austin Flannery (Northport, NY: Costello, 1998), 419; see also the Holy See, http://www.vatican.va/archive/hist_councils/ii_vatican_council/documents/vat-ii_const_19641121_lumen-gentium_en.html.
51. Pope John Paul II, Redemptoris Mater: On the Blessed Virgin Mary in the Life of the Pilgrim Church, sec. 21, http://w2.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/encyclicals/documents/hf_jp-ii_enc_25031987_redemptoris-mater.html (emphasis added).
52. Catechism, par. 966.
53. This language appears in the “Litany of Loreto,” originally approved in 1587 by Pope Sixtus V. See https://udayton.edu/imri/mary/l/litany-of-loreto.php.
54. Pelikan, Mary through the Centuries, 135.
55. See https://udayton.edu/imri/mary/l/litany-of-loreto.php.
56. Catechism, par. 970.
57. Pope John Paul II, Letter of Pope John Paul II to Women, sec. 11, http://w2.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/letters/1995/documents/hf_jp-ii_let_29061995_women.html.
58. Robert Moynihan, “Is the Time Ripe for a 5th Marian Dogma?,” Zenit, March 1, 2009, http://www.zenit.org/en/articles/is-the-time-ripe-for-a-5th-marian-dogma.
59. Ibid.
60. Kenneth L. Woodward, “Hail, Mary,” Newsweek, August 24, 1997, http://www.newsweek.com/hail-mary-172216.
61. Pope John Paul II, Redemptoris Mater, heading for part 2 (preceding sec. 25), http://w2.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/encyclicals/documents/hf_jp-ii_enc_25031987_redemptoris-mater.html (emphasis added).
62. Pope John Paul II, quoted in Mark Miravalle, Mariology: A Guide for Priests, Deacons, Seminarians, and Consecrated Persons (2008; repr., Seattle: Amazon Digital Services, 2013), Kindle edition, locations 2298–300.
63. Ibid. Indeed, in the strangest of exegesis, Miravalle sees both Deborah (from the OT) and Judith (from the Apocrypha) as prefiguring Mary as co-redemptrix. See Miravalle, Mariology, Kindle ed., locations 543–44 and locations 573–75, respectively.
64. Catechism, par. 964 (emphasis added).
65. The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, par. 103, in Flannery, Conciliar and Post Conciliar Documents, 29 (emphasis added).
66. Moynihan, “Is the Time Ripe?”
67. “The Role of Mary in Redemption: A Document of the Theological Commission of the International Marian Association,” International Marian Association, January 1, 2017, http://internationalmarian.com/sites/marian/files/uploads/documents/the_role_of_mary_in_redemption_1.pdf.
68. For more details and critique, see David F. Wells, Revolution in Rome (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1976), 133–35.
69. Blomfield Jackson, “Prolegomena: Sketch of the Life and Works of Saint Basil,” in St. Basil: Letters and Select Works, NPNF2 8:lxxiii.
70. Joseph P. Christopher, The Raccolta; or, A Manual of Indulgences (Potosi, WI: St. Athanasius Press, 2003), 371.
71. Everett Ferguson, Church History, vol. 1, From Christ to Pre-Reformation: The Rise and Growth of the Church in Its Cultural, Intellectual, and Political Context (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2009), Kindle edition, locations 6117–18.
72. Augustine of Hippo, The City of God 10.1, in St. Augustine’s “City of God” and “Christian Doctrine,” trans. Marcus Dods, NPNF1 2:180. Although Augustine did not include the Greek word δουλεία, he clearly implied it.
73. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, IIIa, q. 25, a. 5.
74. Erasmus, Praise of Folly, Kindle ed., locations 3550–52.
75. John Calvin, Commentary upon the Acts of the Apostles, trans. Henry Beveridge (Bellingham, WA: Logos Bible Software, 2010), 1:430–31.
76. Ibid. (emphasis added).
77. Smith, How to Go, 126.
78. Pelikan, Mary through the Centuries, 34.
79. Ibid.
80. Newman, An Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine (Westminster, MA: Christian Classics, 1968), 146.
81. Ibid.
82. Ibid.
83. Ibid.
84. Ibid., 146–47.
85. Ibid., 143 (emphasis added).
86. Ibid.
87. Ibid., 144.
88. Ibid., 145 (emphasis added).
89. Ibid.
90. Ibid.
91. Ibid., 143.
92. Ibid.
93. Ibid.
94. Ibid.
95. Ibid.
96. Smith, How to Go, 126.