The Assumption of Mary & the Promise of All

The definition of the Assumption proclaims again the doctrine of our Resurrection, the eternal destiny of each human body, and again it is the history of Mary that maintains the doctrine in its clarity. The Resurrection of Christ can be regarded as the Resurrection of a God, but Resurrection of Mary foreshadows the Resurrection of each one of us. - Graham Greene

Not far from the banks of the Tiber, in a working class district of Rome called Trastevere, in the Church of Santa Maria, a small but beautiful mosaic of the Assumption of Mary graces the wall beside the altar. In this image, apostles and disciples gather in sorrow at the death bed of the Virgin, while above her, surrounded by angels, Jesus stands and holds his mother in a pose reminiscent of many Madonnas—only now, she seems the child, and he the loving parent. It is a gentle and beautiful work of art, which illustrates not only the devotion of the Church to Mary, but the strange and wonderful duality of this feast.

The Feast of the Assumption, though not referenced in Scripture, is an ancient tradition in the Church, both Western and the Eastern (where it is more often referred to as the Dormition—i.e. “Going to Sleep”—of Mary). Declared a dogma of the faith in 1950, by Pope Pius XII, the celebration of the Assumption dates to the 5th century, and was made a universal celebration in the Eastern Church during the reign of Mauricius Flavius (582-602) and in Rome during the time of Pope Adrian I (772-795), when the title of Assumption replaced that of Dormition. Following the guidelines of the decree of infallibility, Pius XII sought the input of bishops across the world before declaring it a dogma, and received overwhelming support from those who saw this teaching as a long-held part of the faith, one which stands, to quote Vatican II, as “a sign of certain hope and comfort to the pilgrim people of God” (Lumen Gentium, 68).

Yet, for many contemporary Catholics, the doctrine of the Assumption separates Mary from the rest of humanity, by making her ending so very different from our own. Rather than offering us “certain hope and comfort,” Mary’s unique experience makes her seem more like a demigod than like one of us. How can we identify and find comfort in the Mother of God, who never experienced corruption or the grave, when, for us corruption and the grave seem part of our unavoidable destiny? Even in those traditions which accept that Mary died before her Assumption (and the dogma is not definitive either way on this), the notion that Mary is immediately received—in flesh and in spirit—into the presence of God seems unique to her, and, thus, can seem to offer little hope to us.

However, though the Assumption of Mary is a unique formulation of the salvation offered in Christ, the promise upon which it depends, and the Spirit by which it is realized are not hers alone. Rather, Mary—who says “Yes!” to God and opens herself to the Spirit; who carries Christ into the world and follows him where he has been called; who becomes a disciple and remains one, even in the face of suffering—is an icon of what we are all meant to become. She is the image of all of us, the image of the Church. Though she is the first to receive the body and blood of Christ into her body and blood, she is, in that reception, only the forerunner of all who come after, of all of us who are the Church. Each of us who gathers at the table of Christ and feasts on the Eucharist; each who offers herself in service to God’s Word, and becomes a disciple for the love of Christ; each of us who shares in the mysterious grace of the Holy Spirit, receives, if not the exact form, then still the substance of Mary’s call.

Like all such celebrations in the Church, the Solemnity of the Assumption is not really a feast about Mary, or what she has done; rather, it is a feast about the power and grace of God, who chooses the lowly and the forgotten, the handmaid and the dying widow, and pours out on them the grace of the eternal Spirit. In the Assumption of Mary, as in the Annunciation and the Nativity, we are called to recognize that the fulfillment of God’s love comes to us in our flesh, not in some spiritual realm divorced from our reality.

Through Christ, born of Mary, God promises us more than life after death: God promises us resurrection. And as with the birth, so too with the resurrection, Mary becomes the first of our kind to manifest that promise. Her Assumption, in body and spirit, acclaims, without qualification, that the sacredness of God, lived out in our bodies, will be bodily redeemed when we shall stand, enfleshed and beloved, in the new and living Jerusalem.

During these last few weeks, when we have been over-shadowed by images of death—from Palestine and Israel, to Syria and Ukraine; from the banks of the Rio Grande to the shores of Lake Washington—the Assumption of Mary shines, small but unconquered, in our hearts: calling us to hope, sustaining us in faith, renewing us with everlasting love. If we belong to Christ Jesus, as Mary did, he will hold us as he held her, raise us as he raised her. And we, with all the beloved of Jesus, will live with him, as Mary does, in the fullness of resurrection, in the richness of our bodies and our souls.

Fr. John Whitney, SJ

Image (top):  Titian's Assumption, 1516–1518. Middle of painting, showing Mary