Our Lady Saint Mary

by J. G. H. Barry

As one tries to reconstruct the situation in Ephesus, one feels that our Lady would have had no prominence in the Church in the way of an actively exercised influence. One thinks of her as living in retirement, as not even talking very much. If she lived long she would be an object of increasing interest and even of awe to the new converts, and an object of growing love to all those who were admitted to any sort of fellowship with her. But one cannot imagine a crowd about her, inquiring into her experiences and her memories of her divine Son. Once she told of her experience, for it was necessary that the Church should know of the circumstances of the coming of the Son of God into the world, but beyond that necessary communication of her experience we cannot think of her as speaking of her sacred memories. Silence and meditation, longing and waiting, would have filled the years till the hour of her release.

But in the quiet hours spent with S. John it would be different. Between the Blessed Virgin and S. John there was perfect understanding and perfect sympathy, and we love to think of the hours that they would have spent together in deep spiritual intercourse. Those hours would not be hours of reminiscence merely; they would rather be hours in which these two would attempt with the aid of the Spirit Who ruled in them so fully to enter deeper and ever deeper into the meaning of Incarnate God. Jesus would be the continual object of their thought and their love, and meditation upon His words and acts would lead them to an ever increasing appreciation of their depth and meaning.

We have all felt, in reading the pages of S. John, how vast is the difference both in attitude toward his subject and in his understanding of it from that of the other Evangelists. The earlier Evangelists seem deliberately to keep all feeling out of their story, to tell the life of our Lord in the most meagre outline, confining themselves to the essential facts. Anything like interpretation they decline. In S. John all this is changed. The Jesus whom he presents is the same Jesus, but seen through what different eyes! The same life is presented, but with what changes in selection of material! The Gospel of S. John seems almost a series of mediations upon selected facts of an already familiar life rather than an attempt to tell a life-story. And so indeed we think of it. When S. John wrote, the life of our Lord as a series of events was already before the Church. The Church had the synoptic Gospels, and it had a still living tradition to inform it. What it needed, and what the Holy Spirit led S. John to give it, was some glimpse of the inner meaning of the Incarnation, some unfolding of the spiritual depths of the teaching of Jesus.

We know how it is that different people listening to the same words get different impressions and carry away with them quite different meanings. We hear what we are able to hear. And S. John was able to hear what the other disciples of our Lord seem not to have heard. What dwelt in his memory and was worked up in his meditations and was at length transmitted to us, was the meaning of such incidents as the interview with Nicodemus, and the talk with the woman of Samaria, the discourse on the Holy Eucharist and the great High-priestly prayer. Men have felt the contrast between S. John and the other Evangelists so intensely that they have said that this is another Christ who is presented by S. John, and the influences which have shaped the author of the Fourth Gospel are quite other than those which shaped the men of the inner circle of Jesus. But no: it is the instinctive, or rather the Spirit-guided, selection of the material afforded by those years of association with Jesus for the purpose of transmitting to the Church a spiritual depth and beauty, a spiritual significance in our Lord's teaching, that the earlier Gospel had hardly touched.

Which perhaps they could not touch because when they wrote there was not yet in the Church the spiritual experience which could fully interpret our Lord. Through the life of union with the risen Jesus and all the spiritual experience, all the illumined intelligence that that life brought, S. John was enabled to understand and interpret as he did. Writing far on toward the end of the first century he was writing out of the personal experience of Christian living of many years, which brought with it year by year an increased power of spiritual vision opening to him the depth and wonder of the fact of God made man. It is to an experience of our Lord that he appeals as the basis of his teaching. "That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, of the Word of life: (for the life was manifested, and we have seen it, and bear witness, and show unto you that eternal life, which was with the Father, and was manifested unto us;) that which we have seen and heard declare we unto you, that ye also may have fellowship with us: and truly our fellowship is with the Father, and His Son Jesus Christ." And as we read on in S. John's Epistles we cannot fail to see how deeply the years of meditation have influenced his understanding of our Lord and His teaching, and how much his past experience of our Lord has been illumined by the experience of the risen Jesus which has followed. At no time, we are certain, has S. John been out of touch with his Master.

And can we for a moment think that the years of intercourse with our Lady meant nothing in the spiritual development of S. John? On the contrary, may we not think that much of the spiritual richness which is the outstanding feature of his writings was the outcome of his association with the blessed Mother? No one has ever shown the sympathetic understanding of our Lord, has been so well able convincingly to interpret Him, as the beloved disciple. I myself have no doubt that much of his understanding came by way of S. Mary. Her interpretative insight would have been deeper than any one else's, not only because of her long association with Jesus, but because of her sinlessness. No two lives ever touched so closely; and there was not between them the bar that so blocks our spiritual understanding and clouds our spiritual vision, the bar of sin. I suppose it is almost impossible for us to appreciate the effect of sin in clouding vision and dulling sympathy. Our every day familiarity with venial sin, our easy tolerance of it, the adjustment of our lives to habits that involve it, have resulted in a lack of spiritual sensitiveness. Much of the meaning of our Lord's life and words passes over us just because of this dimness of vision, this insensitiveness to suggestion. And therefore we find it difficult to imagine what would be the understanding, the insight, the response to our Lord, of one between whom and Him there was no shadow of sin. And such an one was the blessed Mother. With unclouded vision she looked into the face of her Son. As His life expanded she followed with perfect sympathy; indeed, sometimes, as at Cana, her understanding of what He was made her precipitate in concluding as to His necessary action. When He became a public teacher and unfolded largely in parable His doctrine, it was her sinless soul which would see clearest and deepest, and with the most ready response. And therefore I am sure that we cannot go astray in thinking that S. John's relation to S. Mary was not simply that of a guardian of her from the pressure of the world, but was indeed that of a son who listened and learned from the experience of his Mother. No doubt S. John himself was of a very subtle spiritual understanding; notwithstanding that, and notwithstanding his exceptional opportunities of learning, we may still believe that there are many touches in his Gospel which are the result of his association with his Lord's Mother.

Is it not possible for us to have our share in that pure insight of blessed Mary? When we try to think out the lines of our own spiritual development and the influences that have contributed to shape it, do we not find that the presence or absence of devotion to our Lady has been a factor of considerable importance? Devotion to her injected an element into our religion which is of vast moment, an element of sympathy, of gentleness, of purity. You can if you like, in condemnatory accents, call that element sentimentalism, although it is not that but the exercise of those gentler elements of our nature without whose exercise our nature functions one-sidedly. You may call it the feminine element, if you like; you will still be indicating the same order of activity. Surely, an all around spiritual development will bring out the feminine as well as the masculine qualities. And it seems to be historically true that those systems of religion which represent a revolt against the cultus of our Lady and carefully exclude all traces of it from their worship, show as a consequence of this exclusion a hardness and a barrenness which makes their human appeal quite one-sided. And when those same systems have realised their limitations and their lack of human appeal, and have tried to supply what is lacking, they have again failed, because instead of reverting to historical Christianity they have taken the road of humanitarianism, basing themselves on our Lord's human life and consequent brotherhood with us, rather than upon His supernatural Personality as operative through His mystical Body. Stress is laid upon charitable helpfulness rather than upon the power of grace. The modern man tries to reform life rather than to regenerate it.

And, I repeat, I cannot help associating with a repudiation of the cultus of the saints, and especially of the Blessed Virgin Mary, a consequent failure to understand the Christian life as a supernatural creation. If one leaves out of account the greater part of the Kingdom of Heaven, all the multitudes of the redeemed, and their activities, and fastens one's attention exclusively upon that small part of the Kingdom which is the Church on earth, one can hardly fail to miss the significance of the earthly Church itself. Religion understood in this limited way may well drift more and more toward Deism and Humanitarianism, and further and further from any supernatural implications. This is no theory; it is what has happened. It was the course of Protestantism from the Reformation to the eighteenth century; and, after a partial revival of supernaturalism, is once more the rapid course of Protestantism to-day. Protestantism has lost or is fast losing any grip on the Trinity or the Incarnation: to it God is more and more a barren unity, and Jesus a good man. And this largely because all interest in the world of the Redeemed has been abandoned and all intercourse with the inhabitants of that world denied.

It is therefore of the last importance that we, infected as we are with Protestantism, should stress the revival of the cultus of the saints, and should insist upon our right and privilege to pay due honour to the Mother of God and ask our share in her prayers. We must do all we can to make her known to our brethren. We need her sympathy, her aid, her example.

Above all, the example of her spotless purity. It is notorious that one of the most marked features of our time is the virulent assault on purity. We had long emphasised a certain quality of conduct which we called modesty; it was, perhaps, largely a convention, but it was one of those protective conventions which are valuable as preservative of qualities we prize. It was protective of purity; and however artificial it was, in some respects, it existed because we felt that purity was a thing too precious to be exposed to unnecessary risk. Well, modesty is gone now, whether in conduct or convention. One hears discussed at dinner-tables and in the presence of young girls matters which our mothers would have blushed to mention at all. The quality of modesty is declared Puritanical and hypocritical. "Hypocritical virtue" is a phrase one frequently meets; and we seem fast going on to the time when all virtue will be regarded as hypocrisy. Customary standards are falling all about us, overthrown in the name of personal liberty.