Glorious Assumption

In honour of Our Lady in her month of May...

GLORIOUS ASSUMPTION

by Father John Macquarrie

In the expression, 'Glorious Assumption', the adjective and the noun go together, traditionally and inevitably. An assumption could not be any thing other than glorious, for it means a taking up from the drabness of earthly life into the unimaginable glory of the divine presence; on the other hand, there could be no greater glory manifested in any human person than that he or she should be so taken up. According to the Old Testament, Enoch and Elijah were both taken up to heaven at the end of their earthly lives as a mark of signal divine favour;' a late Jewish tradition spoke of an assumption of Moses, whose end is indeed veiled in some mystery in the Old Testament and who, before all the Old Testament heroes and prophets, might have been considered the most likely candidate for assumption.2 In the Christian Church, it is of course Mary whose assumption we celebrate, but it is worth remembering that the idea of an assumption was already there in the Jewish tradition, including the canonical scriptures. The idea in itself was certainly no innovation.

We should note the distinction between assumption and ascension. As I have already said, 'assumption' (analepsis) means 'taking up', that is to say, it is an act of God in the performance of which the person assumed remains passive. 'Ascension' (anabasis), on the other hand, means 'going up', which gives an active role to the person who so ascends. The only person who ascended to God, that is to say, went to the Father as of right, was the divine Son. As John's Gospel tells us, 'No one has ascended into heaven but he who descended from heaven, the Son of man.'3 As we shall see, the assumption of the Blessed Virgin is dependent upon the ascension of Jesus Christ, and indeed, a corollary of it because of the clearing and glorification of our human nature through him.

Off and on, I have been thinking about the assumption for thirty-five years, and if I may be allowed to do so, I think I shall expound the doctrine by tracing the stages in my understanding of it. The first time I was driven to think with any seriousness about the assumption of the Blessed Virgin was when I was serving with the British Army in North Africa just after World War II, and was granted the privilege of two weeks' leave so that I could visit the holy places of Palestine. The actual year was 1946, and this detail may be worth mentioning, for that was not only two years before the founding of the State of Israel, so that I was one of the last people to see the Holy Land as it was in an era now passed away, it was also four years before the dogma of the assumption was officially promulgated by the Vatican, so that at that time it was a 'pious opinion'.

One day we were taken to see the Church of the Assumption, built over the tomb that is said to have received the mortal remains of Our Lady. I did not know at that time that there is a rival site in Ephesus, for there is an alternative tradition which holds that the falling asleep of the Virgin did not take place until after the fall of Jerusalem, by which time she had gone to live in Ephesus in company with the beloved disciple. At any rate, I found myself in the Church of the Assumption, located not far outside Jerusalem and near to the Mount of Olives. This church was for many years in dispute between Latin and Eastern Christians, and finally passed to the latter. I remember it as a singularly gloomy and cavernous church, just about the last place that would lead one to think of a glorious assumption. Yet somehow I found myself kneeling down and praying. I did not understand what an assumption could be, yet somehow I knew that the assumption is an authentic part of that whole fabric of truth that we call the catholic faith, and that some day I might come to understand it better. I remember all this so clearly because among my army companions were some of a skeptical or even ribald turn of mind, and they teased me for having prayed there. To them it was all a joke, an absurd superstition. I did not know how to answer them. Of course, even in 1946, though no one had ever been in space at that time, we knew that outer space is a dark freezing trackless desolation, the very opposite of the nearer presence of God, so the event of the assumption could not mean that the Virgin's body had floated off into the empty wastes. It must be a theological event, to be theologically understood, but I could not make a beginning. But it sometimes happens in the Christian life that one first believes, even if one is not too clear about the belief, and then understanding comes later. I saw that many people believed, and it must make sense to them. We may recall St Anselm's words: 'I yearn to understand some measure of your truth, which my heart believes and loves. For I do not seek to understand in order to believe, but I believe in order to understand.'4

Four years later, I had to think again about the assumption. In 1950 Pius XII, in the apostolic constitution Munificentissimus Deus, promulgated the assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary as a dogma of the Church. It was declared that 'the Immaculate Mother of God, Mary ever Virgin, on completing the course of her earthly life, was assumed body and soul to heavenly glory' (immaculatam Deiparam semper Virginem Mariam, expleto terrestris vitae cursu, fuisse corpore etanima ad caelestem Gloriam assumptam)? The expression 'heavenly glory' indicates that we are talking about a condition, a relation to God, rather than a place. Earlier the reason for this assumption had been stated: 'it seems impossible that she who conceived Christ, bore him, fed him with her milk, held him in her arms and pressed him to her bosom, should after this earthly life be separated from him in either body or soul.'6 The closeness of Jesus and Mary could not be broken by the end of their earthly sojourn, and we see how her assumption follows on his ascension. It is the answer to the promise that 'where I am, there you may be also.'7
Of course, the act of Pius XII in raising the assumption to the status of a formal dogma was not greeted with universal rejoicing. Among Anglicans, there were serious misgivings. I shall mention three.

Some feared that in making the assumption a dogma, a new wedge was being driven between Rome and Canterbury. For many centuries, belief in the assumption was common in both east and west, but was it necessary to make it de fide? I have myself considerable sympathy with this point of view, and question the value of making too many and too precise dogmatic definitions. If a theological proposition is true and an integral part of Christian faith, it will eventually establish itself, but this process will not be helped and may even be hindered by authoritative attempts to make the belief obligatory. There is no doubt that belief in the assumption of the Blessed Virgin had been steadily gaining ground in the Anglican Communion for a long time. In the two branches of the Anglican Communion with which I am best acquainted, the Scottish and American churches, the fifteenth of August has its honoured place in the calendar. In Scotland, it has long been celebrated as the Feast of the Dormition, while in the United States it is known simply as the Feast of St Mary the Virgin, and is the major festival in her honour. Unfortunately the Church of England lags behind her sister churches and makes no official provision for the day, though one may hope that this will change. But it is more likely to change through spreading a better understanding of what the festival is really about, than through forcing the issue by promulgating a formal dogma.

A second misgiving arose from the contention of some scholars that belief in the assumption arose from Monophysite sources in the fifth and sixth centuries. This, of course, raises large questions of historical scholarship, and these have been treated very ably by John Saward in a learned paper.8 Even if some monophysite influence can be demonstrated as historical fact, it would still be the case that the assumption can be shown to be an implicate of orthodox Christian doctrine and could only be rightly understood as such. However, it has also to be remembered that there is now going on a reassessment of the monophysite churches, now more often called the non-Chalcedonian churches, and that it appears that they may be less heterodox than used to be supposed.

A third objection was that 1950 seems pretty late in the day for the discovery of a Christian dogma. This argument is broadened by pointing out that in the earliest centuries, no Christian theologian seems to have heard of the assumption of the Virgin. Only from the late sixth century on do we find a clear tradition of the assumption among orthodox Christian writers. However, even such central Christian doctrines as the Trinity and the incarnation took several centuries to formulate, so we need not be surprised if less central doctrines took longer, especially one so complex and dependent on others as the assumption. Moreover, since Christianity is a living and growing entity and not something static and unchanging, we must not be surprised if new insights and understandings come even in the twentieth and subsequent centuries — these are in fact a tribute to the vitality of the Christian faith and to the inexhaustible riches which it contains.

We go on now from the apostolic constitution of 1950 to the new atmosphere of Vatican II, a little more than a decade later. From the point of view of an inquiry into the assumption, what is important in Vatican II was the designation of Mary as Mother of the Church. To quote the words of the decree on the Church, 'she is hailed as a pre-eminent and altogether singular member of the Church, and as the Church' s model and excellent exemplar in faith and charity. Taught by the Holy Spirit, the Catholic Church honours her with filial affection and piety as a most beloved mother.'9

This firm linkage which Vatican II established between the Church and Mary as its mother, type, model and pre-eminent member may now be used to go back and interpret the dogma of 1950. It will be remembered that in that document, a reason given for the assumption was the impossibility of supposing that Mary who conceived Christ, bore him, gave him milk, held him and so on, could be separated from him by the termination of earthly life. Mary's solidarity with her Son is such that his ascension implies her assumption, that where he is she will be also. But now we see that on the other side Mary is inseparable from the Church. So the Church too must be inseparable from Christ, his ascension must imply the assumption of the Church as well as of its Mother and pre-eminent member, Mary, the whole Church is the recipient of the promise that 'where I am, there you may be also,' In saying this, we see that the significance of the dogma of the assumption is immeasurably broadened. It is not just a personal dogma about Mary (though it remains that) but a dogma about the whole body of the faithful of whom Mary is the type. Mary's glorious assumption is the first moment in the glorious assumption of the Church. We recall some further words from John's Gospel: 'The glory which thou has given me, I have given to them... Father, I desire that they also, whom thou hast given me, may be with me where I am, to behold my glory which thou hast given me in thy love for me before the foundation of the world.'10 The Feast of the Assumption must be reckoned one of the most humanistic festivals in the Church's calendar. It is not just a celebration of Mary (though it certainly is that) but a celebration of redeemed humanity. Christian theologians have often denigrated the human race, dwelling on our sin and depravity, as if they could only glorify God by putting down man and pointing to the infinite distance between them. But that is not God's way and is contrary to his intention. He created human beings in his own image that they might enjoy communion with him, he sent his eternal Son, the one who descended, that he might also ascend again and bring with him the men and women whom he had gained in the world to share his glory with him. We are now coming in sight of the full meaning of the dogma of the glorious assumption, and we can see it as one of the most hopeful and encouraging items in the Church's belief, and one that gathers up the implications of many other doctrines, christological, soteriological, anthropological and so on.

This was the kind of understanding of the assumption to which I was coming after almost twenty years of reflection since that visit to the dismal old Church of the Assumption in Jerusalem in 1946. In 19661 composed a hymn to the Virgin, which I entitled 'Mother of the Church'. It was not a very good hymn (though it was published in a journal of spirituality n) but it tried to set out the various episodes in the life of our Lady in relation to her role as Mother of the Church. It began:

Hail, blest Mary! Church's Mother!
Virgin Mother, full of grace!
Mother of our elder Brother,
Mother of our renewed race!

I pass on to the last three verses, where I was able to affirm belief in the assumption with an understanding that had not been possible for me twenty years earlier

You, dear Lady, station keeping
At the Cross while Jesus died,
Heard his voice amid your weeping,
'These your children now!' he cried.
With apostles you were praying,
Saw the Church, in finest hour,
Spirit-filled, to men displaying
God's regenerating power.
Blest at last in your dormition,
Jesus called you to his side.
All your labours find fruition,
You are crowned and glorified!

At this point I can imagine some of our progressive friends in the Church holding up their hands in horror — assuming that they would have deigned to come to a lecture on the assumption at all! 'This is sheer triumphalism,' I can hear them say — and, of course, 'triumphalism' has become a very bad word. But I would like to make two replies to our imaginary objectors.

First, we have to consider just what 'triumphalism' means, and in what sense it is a pejorative term. If triumphalism is a pride in the human institution, an arrogant identification of the Church with the kingdom of God, then it is a snare and a delusion, and we have to ask God's forgiveness for betraying his trust. But I don' t think' triumphalism' needs to mean that. 1 would understand 'triumphalism' as the opposite of 'defeatism', and in that sense I would declare myself an unashamed triumphalist. I believe one holy catholic and apostolic church, 1 acknowledge it to be the people of God, the body of Christ, the temple of the Holy Spirit, I am convinced that the gates of hell will not prevail against it. In spite of all its sins and errors, the Church remains God's Church and cannot utterly depart from him. We see in it gleams of glory that bring hope and promise. Not least among these gleams of glory are the saints that the Church has known in all ages, and chief among whom is the Blessed Virgin. Whether or not we call it 'triumphalism', a sober hope and confidence in the Church is an essential part of our response to the calling of God. To put it in another way, we have to understand the Church eschatologically. Its unity, holiness, catholicity and apostolicity, will reach their fulness only in the end when the purposes of God are complete. Yet they are not just dreams for the future. Already in innumerable ways, in deeds of love, in moments of communion, in experiences of grace, there are flashes of the final glory to encourage the Church on its way.

My second reply depends on the first one, but it also deepens our understanding of the dogma of the assumption. It is that assumption is not a once-for-all event, but a continuing
process. That was already implicit when I said that assumption is a theological event, for a theological event is not tied to a moment of time. It can take effect at all times. The assumption began with the dormition of the Blessed Virgin Mary, but it continues throughout the history of the Church and it will be complete only when the Church is fully united with Christ, the body with the Head, and his glory is manifest in all.

Incidentally, this means that we need not worry very much whether Mary died within three years of the crucifixion and was assumed from Jerusalem, as one tradition avers, or whether she lived for fifty years and accomplished her dormition in Ephesus. We need not worry either that for about five centuries the Church was silent on this subject of the assumption. These historical questions are not really important when one considers the theological issue. Certainly, we can affirm that at some time in the first century of our era, in some place, the Blessed Virgin fell asleep and went to be with her Son and to receive the glory he had promised to bestow on his own. That is the classic moment of the glorious assumption and is worthy in itself of celebration. But it is the beginning of a vaster, indeed, cosmic assumption. That assumption is going on at this very moment. Wherever in the Church militant here on earth there is a gleam of glory, a faithful act of discipleship, a prayer offered in faith, assumption is going on. We believe too that in the Church expectant, souls are being perfected toward the day of Jesus Christ. Finally, in the Church triumphant, the work will be complete, and with the Blessed Virgin Mary and all the saints, the faithful people of God will take their place in his eternal kingdom of glory and light.

In this lecture, I have permitted myself a more autobiographical style than theologians commonly employ. But perhaps all that any of us can do is to testify to what has been significant in his or her own experience, in the hope that it may help others to find meaning in Christian faith. From a vague half-belief, for the most part not understood, I have come to see the dogma of the assumption as the expression in appropriate theological symbols of some of the most hopeful affirmations of the Christian faith. Perhaps a glimpse of the same truths was present however vaguely to the mind of the less than half-believing but nevertheless sensitive poet when he penned the famous lines:12

Ave Maria! 'tis the hour of prayer!
Ave Maria! 'tis the hour of love!
Ave Maria! may our spirits dare
Look up to thine and to thy Son's above!
Ave Maria!

Notes
1. Genesis 5, 24; II Kings 2,11.
2. Deuteronomy 34, 5-6. The Assumption of Moses is a work of the first century A.D., now existing only in fragmentary form.
3. John 3, 13.
4. Anselm, Proslogion, ch. 2.
5. H. Denzinger, Enchiridion Symbolorum (Editio 31), p. 716. 6.1bid., p. 715.
7. John 14, 3.
8. John Saward, The Assumption (The Ecumenical Society of the Blessed Virgin Mary, 1976).
9. Walter M. Abbott, S.J, ed., the Documents of Vatican II, p. 86.
10. John 17, 22 and 24.
11. Holy Cross Magazine (May, 1966), p. 23.
12. Lord Byron, Don Juan, Canto III, 102.