The Blessed Virgin Mary

Sermon preached at the Choral Eucharist by the Precentor, Canon Anna Macham

Readings: Galatians 4: 4-7 and Luke 1: 46-55

Friday 15 August 2025 – 4:30pm

Today is a feast day of the Blessed Virgin Mary, one of several days in the Christian calendar throughout the year when we remember Mary, the Mother of Jesus.  Although we don’t mark it so specifically in the Church of England, being a Protestant Church, in the Roman Catholic Church today is properly titled the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

The doctrine of the Assumption teaches that, after the end of her earthly life, Mary’s body did not rot away in the earth but was reunited with her soul “in heavenly glory”.  In traditional Roman Catholic theology, this means that Mary has already achieved the state of bliss which awaits others at the end of time.  This was a popular belief from early centuries, and was commemorated in a feast day, on the 15th of August, from at least the seventh century.

In 1950, Pope Pius XII made the doctrine an official teaching of the Roman Catholic Church.  Mary alone was accorded the honour of bearing God incarnate, and for that reason- according to this doctrine- Mary’s body would not be allowed to know decay.  In agreeing to bear Jesus who is God incarnate, Mary, in the thinking of many Catholic and Orthodox Christians, made a uniquely necessary contribution to salvation and therefore is worthy of the highest honour.

This Cathedral is dedicated to the Virgin Mary, and in the Trinity Chapel, which was the first part of the Cathedral to be built behind me in the east end, there’s a statue of the Virgin and child.  The statue also is medieval, and reflects the Catholic understanding of Mary of the time, which is very similar to the understanding I’ve just described.

The statue depicts Mary in glory, assumed into heaven, with a crown on her head.  Both she, and the small but mature looking Christ she holds in her arms displayed to the viewer, have a bearing of majesty.  As with many majestic statues of the Virgin, the statue indicates the power Mary held at that time, a power which was greater than the political, but less easily defined.  In the Catholic culture of the eleventh and early twelfth centuries, Mary- by virtue of her unique part in the drama of salvation- was the undisputed “mistress of the world and empress of the universe” (1964, Second Vatican Council decree on the Church, De Ecclesia).

The Madonna of medieval times and of the Assumption, was not some lowly figure, as many may think of her now.  To depict the Virgin in majesty was to assert her exaltation by the Lord as queen of all things, so that she might be more fully conformed to her Son, the Lord of lords and victor over sin and death.

In Christian theology and devotion, Mary is exalted because she stands for creation in right relationship to the Creator.  Catholic theology holds that, by the grace of God, men and women can and should cooperate with God’s will, and in this way assist in God’s work of salvation.

Catholic theologians typically present Mary as the finest example of one who co-operated with God.  Mary, in giving Jesus his flesh, made the fullest contribution that any human being could have made to that redemption.

In stark contrast to this, strongly Protestant theology holds that since nothing good ever happens except by the grace of God, any talk of human “co-operation” in redemption is misplaced: it attributes too active a role to one of God’s creatures, and does so at the expense of a proper recognition of the Creator, who is the only source of salvation.  Mary, therefore, on this understanding, is not to be regarded as playing any kind of decisive part in the Incarnation.  Instead of giving her active assent, she merely receives the miracle which God bestows, and thus typifies the relationship of the world to its Maker.

Another statue of Mary in the Cathedral, above the West Door on the outside West front, reflects this Protestant way of thinking.  Here, Mary is more humbly attired with a simple head covering.  Her gaze, instead of commanding and looking confidently and authoritatively out at the viewer like medieval statues of the Virigin, is cast downwards in humility, and it is her son, Christ on her lap, who, with outstretched arms, more obviously wears the crown.

What then should our understanding of Mary be today?  For me, a third statue of Mary, the walking Madonna, by Elizabeth Frink, draws on elements of both the Catholic and the Protestant understandings of Mary.  Interestingly, the Walking Madonna is located outside the Cathedral.  Unusually, she is walking away from it, and has her back turned to it.

Many medieval statues of Mary throned in heaven were said to have been originally discovered in nature; legend has it that when such statues were moved into churches, they moved themselves back again to the outside location where they were originally discovered.  As images and objects, they had their own power.  For me, Frink’s statue of the Walking Madonna, striding away from the Cathedral, has power from being outside.  A relatively small figure, it gains power from its location- separate from the Cathedral, but situated in clear relationship to it.  It’s as if Mary is not defined by everything the Cathedral represents, the manmade power and glory that she rejects- and yet, she is defined by it, by the glory at its heart, the glory to which it points outside of itself, the glory of the Creator.

As you may have seen, there is a fascinating exhibition of Frink’s work in Salisbury Museum just across the way in the Close at the moment.  If Frink’s statue reflects the Catholic understanding of Mary as a force of nature, reflecting the glory of the Creator, it also reflects the Protestant understanding of her as humble.  Mary, according to Frink’s depiction, is a woman who has suffered.  This is the Madonna at the end of her life, not assumed into heaven in a state of no decrepitude and decay, but a woman who is small and vulnerable, who has seen her Son die on the cross.  Yer her demeanour is nevertheless stoic and determined, striving for freedom and justice.  More than anything, she is defiant and dignified, resolute and resilient in the face of loss.

In today’s Gospel, Mary’s song, the Magnificat, we heard this sense of defiance and noble resilience.  “My soul doth magnify the Lord… he hath lifted up the lowly and exalted the humble and meek”.

This is the image and example given to us, from down the centuries, to follow; we may not feel confident, but whatever we are going through, the image of Mary, humbled and yet exalted to highest heaven, reminds us that- in all the trials and tribulations we face- there is the inner redeeming and liberating strength and power of God that will empower us and see us through.