For he who has become your husband is your Maker;
his name is the LORD of hosts;
Your redeemer is the Holy One of Israel,
called God of all the earth.
The LORD calls you back,
like a wife forsaken and grieved in spirit,
A wife married in youth and then cast off,
says your God.
For a brief moment I abandoned you,
but with great tenderness I will take you back.
In an outburst of wrath, for a moment
I hid my face from you;
But with enduring love I take pity on you,
says the LORD, your redeemer.
Your redeemer is the Holy One of Israel,
called God of all the earth.
The LORD calls you back,
like a wife forsaken and grieved in spirit,
A wife married in youth and then cast off,
says your God.
For a brief moment I abandoned you,
but with great tenderness I will take you back.
In an outburst of wrath, for a moment
I hid my face from you;
But with enduring love I take pity on you,
says the LORD, your redeemer.
Recently, at the supper table, the friars fell into a most unusual conversation: we discussed theology. Lay folks might think this happens all the time; but alas, it’s actually quite rare. In any case we talked about the doctrines concerning Mary, the Mother of God. As you might suppose, I have opinions on the subject.
One of the friars mentioned the rather distasteful tradition concerning Mary’s anatomical virginity. How could she be a virgin technically after she gave birth? The question, though outlandish, is ancient. It is said of one saint: he was pondering the question when an angel appeared before him with a staff. The angel pointedly and angrily drove the staff into the ground. Instantly a lily sprang out of the ground as he said, “Before she gave birth!” A second lily appeared when he struck the ground again and said, “As she gave birth!” And a third, when he declared, “After she gave birth!” That settled the matter for that particular saint. She was indeed ever virgin.
Without a staff or blooming lilies I said to the friars, “That’s what happens when you make a historical fact of a theological doctrine!” I went on to say, “Mary’s virginity is about Jerusalem, the holy city.” I then explained my point as follows:
In today’s first reading, Isaiah describes Jerusalem as the castoff wife of God. This image fits the prophetic tradition which often described Jerusalem as the unfaithful wife; a tradition reaching from 9th century BCE Prophet Hosea into the New Testament Book of Revelation.
Theirs is a stormy relationship, to put it mildly. Most married couples, if not all, have their difficult moments. Everyone is occasionally distracted by impulses to infidelity, thoughts of divorce and fantasies of murder. But this relationship between God and Jerusalem, which last thousands of years, is especially – shall we say? – dynamic with endless cycles of reconciliation and peace. The Lord remains forever the faithful suitor to Jerusalem; and Jerusalem is all too frequently the unfaithful lover.
Keep in mind the sins are serious. They are not simply indifferent and tepid prayer; they are scandalous mistreatments of the poor and needy, exploitation of the helpless and cruelty to aliens. They are unholy alliances with foreign kings as if God were incapable of protecting them. They are behaviors which should be unheard of in God's Holy City.
At the end of a thousand years of this unbalanced, unstable relationship, Saint Matthew describes a city that has gone over totally to darkness. The city ruled by Herod the Great conspires to send an army and destroy the new-born king of the Jews. Only when the magi leave the city do they see the light as the star leads them to Bethlehem where they find “the child with his mother.”
In this Gospel Jesus appears as the Lord and his mother is the “virgin daughter of my people;” she is the New Jerusalem.
So when we speak of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we are celebrating not only his divine fatherhood (since she “did not know man”), we are also wonder-struck by the City, once holy, condemned in sin, and now restored to holy innocence.
The long tempestuous marriage of God and Jerusalem has at last born fruit; the Virgin Jerusalem and God have born a child, who is Emmanuel.
But even that wonder might be irrelevant to us except for the promise of God: the Lord can and will relieve us – all of us and each of us -- of the guilt of all sin. God will purge our cynicism; God will make us holy, even as He is holy.
The friars that evening were not overcome with shock and awe by my exposition but perhaps you are. I certainly find it wonderful.
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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.