Meditation for the Feast of the Assumption of Mary, August, 15, 2010
Said Mass
By the Reverend Stephen Gerth

Isaiah 61:10-11; Psalm 34;1-9; Galatians 4:4-7; Luke 1:46-55
 

In a startling remark in his book Eucharistic Origins, Notre Dame theologian Paul Bradshaw wrote, “We do not possess a scrap of evidence that the earliest Christian Eucharist ever conformed itself to the model of the Last Supper, with a bread ritual before the meal and a cup ritual afterwards.”[1] What he wrote really caught my attention, not only because of what he said – “we do not possess a scrap of evidence” – but because his language was so direct. There just isn’t enough of a historical record to know really how we got from the Last Supper to what you and I would know as the Eucharist. Something was happening in the first centuries of the Christian Era; we just don’t have any record. About our own lives, your biography and mine, we know a few things, but the richness of the lives that bring you and me here today are written nowhere, echoed perhaps by records, photographs. But a lot is just hidden in the unfolding of time. 

We know nothing really about Mary apart from the New Testament, where her life largely remains in the shadow of her son Jesus. Saint John in his gospel never even mentions her name. Yet the power of this mother began to capture the Christian imagination so that not only cathedrals and churches were dedicated to her, but entire nations. 

Again, we don’t know anything about Mary’s life or death apart from the New Testament record. What we can do is to look at what we do know about the Christian community when it begins to celebrate the events in Mary’s life – her conception, her birth, her death – and to see what we can learn. 

The death of Mary begins to be celebrated in the east around the year 600. The reign of the last great Roman Emperor, Justinian ended in the year 565. What we call the “dark ages” – when trade and education disappear – descends on the West. In the Eastern Church the commemoration is known as the Falling Asleep – the Dormition – of the Virgin. In the West, it becomes the Assumption – the taking up – of Mary to heaven by her son.[2] 

Last week I was in Los Angeles and visited the Roman Catholic cathedral, Our Lady of the Angels. It is in many ways a remarkable and modern church. During the visit a small wedding Mass was taking place in the cathedral. (Our Saint Mary’s has its own tangential connection to this cathedral – they used pictures of our organ – which has no case – to show why they needed money for a case. For the record, I’m more than happy with our instrument without a case.) Over the altar is a large cross, not empty, not with the image of Jesus’ resurrection, but Jesus dying or dead. And that’s where Mary came in. When the gospel began to be more about Jesus’ death than his resurrection, Christian hearts turned to look for life, for resurrection. 

In the New Testament Mary’s life is woven into the work and teaching of her son. In Jesus’ words about the love of money, we hear Mary’s words about the rich and the poor. In Jesus’ words in the Garden asking to be spared, we hear Mary’s words “Let it be to me according to your will.”[3] When Jesus rises from the dead, we hear Mary’s words of souls proclaiming the greatness of the Lord.  

At the heart of all of our celebrations is Easter – not the idea of Easter, but the reality of the resurrection of our mortal bodies to immortality in Christ.
 

Copyright © 2010 The Society of the Free Church of St. Mary the Virgin, New York, New York.

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