Along Comes Mary (part 2)

 Twelfth Wednesday after Pentecost

First, let me say thanks to Chris, Jennifer, and Jerry for their comments. I'll answer Chris's question about the "Fightin' Christians" in a future Monday post about my years at Elon. One humorous note for now: When the day of the name change came, there was a sudden rush on the Elon Campus Store by students to buy up all the "Fightin' Christians" memorabilia they could find. The store sold out of pennants, mugs, glasses, towels, hats, t-shirts, license plates, you name it--in that one day. Since that time some Elon alumni of that era have become collectors of "Fightin' Christian" memorabilia. Some trading goes on to this day on e-bay. Our son John, an Elon alum, has several of these items. Incidentally, Elon is now the "Phoenix."

Special thanks to Jerry for her very thoughtful comment on Mary. Here it is:

I find Mary inspiring and comforting. As such, I likely have a lot more reverence for Mary than most protestants. While I don't necessarily pray TO her, I sometimes meditate ON her. This difference may be as much a reaction to the anti-catholic admonitions I received as a child as opposed to a recognition of the difference in divinity between Mary and God.

My parents prejudices were a little different from the usual ones of white southerners brought up in the depression. My father had the usual prejudice against Black people, though it did mollify considerably over his later years. My mother had little, if any, of that prejudice. Both my parents liked Jews. One of their two best friends couples were Jewish. There were many other Jewish friends. The synagogue was on our block. My mother had a somewhat odd prejudice against Catholics. There was a Catholic family across the street. My parents did not associate with them. My mother let me know that she did not like my playing with Richard, their son, who was a year younger than I. I played with him anyway. I never quite knew the origin of her prejudice and never asked. She did think of Catholics as being highly superstitious. That prejudice, too, seemed to mollify over the years.

By my teenage years I considered myself free of any prejudice (except against the Dallas Cowboys and the New York Yankees, prejudices I hold to this day). I knew Catholics would put their fingers in holy water and make the sign of the cross when they entered a church. I started doing that too, whenever I entered a Catholic church.  I never thought of Catholics as superstitious. 

But then one very odd thing, at least to my mind, occurred while I was on a post-college European tour. Their were numerous Catholics in the tour group. When we went to St. Peter's Basilica in Rome--yes, that's the big one--we saw a large statue of St. Peter, when we entered the church. All of the Catholics kissed the toe of the St. Peter statue. One looked at me and asked whether I was going to kiss the toe. I politely declined. I've never quite understood that one to this day. Perhaps I should do some research. Perhaps one of you could explain it to me. 

OK, finally I'm getting to Mary. I have long been puzzled about why Catholics make so much of her and Protestants make so little. It seems like other than during Advent, we scarcely even mention her name. Forgive me, if you've heard me tell this story before. Once in a church I was pastoring a young couple wanted to join the church. He was Protestant; she, Catholic. Before they joined, she came to my office one day with a burning question, "Can I be a Methodist and still pray to Mary?" I know that both JohnWesley and my mother would answer a firm NO. I suspected that the United Methodist Book of Discipline did not deal with this matter.

I tried to explain to her that she wasn't really praying to Mary but praying with Mary. She didn't seem to recognize the difference. She told me how much she loved Mary and how much Mary had meant to her over the years. She said that she could relate more easily to Mary than to God or Jesus, because Mary was a woman, just like her. I tried to explain that God wasn't male, but was beyond gender. That seemed to go right by her too. She was forcing me to answer the question directly--yes or no--can I be a Methodist and still pray to Mary?

How would you answer her? How do you think I should have answered her? What do you think I did answer her?

Tune in tomorrow.

Faithfully,

Christian