Trustful devotion

FLORES de Mayo (Flowers of May) used to be a major religious activity for Filipino communities, a way of paying homage to Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ, with floral offerings and prayers.

These days, people tend to associate the month of May with the Santacruzan, a more secular activity that combines elements of a religious event and a beauty contest to raise funds for the community by selling votes for the many different queens in the event, from Reina Elena to the Queen of Sheba. (Watch out though, these days the queens are usually male, including some who may have participated in the recent Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo look-alike contests.)

The decline of the Flores de Mayo is surprising, given the importance of Mary in Filipino religiosity, especially among Catholics. I suspect Filipino Catholics pray much more to her than to Jesus himself, with social scientists proposing that this replicates our own family structures where the mother plays a mediator role who can relay children's requests to the father or some other authoritarian male figure.

Mary's special place in our culture is also connected with Roman Catholic doctrine. From the very early beginnings of the Christian church, Mary had a special position as the mother of Jesus, with her name appearing in the gospels and eventually in various liturgies, including references to her as theotokos, the "Bearer of God." In 431 A.D. there was an ecumenical Council of Ephesus where the term was questioned, with the argument that perhaps she should only be called christotokos, the "Bearer of Christ."

The Council of Ephesus ended up affirming that the liturgies were right in calling Mary theotokos, that she was indeed the "Bearer of God." Mary's position as theotokos was to remain entrenched in Roman as well as orthodox (e.g., Greek and Russian) Catholic churches.

When the Reformation came along, Calvin, Luther and other founders of Protestantism reaffirmed the use of this term theotokos. The Anglicans kept, as part of their evening song devotions, the Roman Catholics' Magnificat, a prayer commemorating Mary's acceptance to become the mother of Jesus.

The Protestants did reject, strongly, other aspects of Catholic Marian piety, such as the idea that she could be an intercessor, or that one could accumulate merit through praying to her, or through the use of the rosary. The rift grew as the Roman Catholic Church added other declarations about Mary, such as her immaculate conception, the idea that she was conceived without original sin.

With time, the devotion to Mary came to be seen by Protestants almost as idolatrous, especially here in the Philippines with the neverending claims of Marian apparitions and Marian pilgrimages. Generally, Mary began to disappear from the Protestants' consciousness.

Now it seems there is renewed interest among Protestants in Mary. I wasn't particularly conscious about this until last month when UP's College of Social Sciences held its recognition ceremonies. During an intermission, UP's Singing Ambassadors presented three musical numbers, two of which were obviously religious songs from the Protestants: "Amazing Grace" and a second one I didn't recognize.

The songs actually made me feel slightly uncomfortable because last year, there were complaints from non-Catholics that our graduation and recognition ceremonies included prayers that were explicitly Catholic. This year, it seemed we were becoming "too" Protestant. But even as I worried about the Singing Ambassadors' presentation, I was struck by the second song's lyrics. Eventually, I asked around and a fellow anthropology professor, Felipe (Bot) Jocano Jr., gave me the title of the song and its background, even lending me a compact disc recording.

It turned out that the song, "Light of a Million Mornings," is quite popular among Protestant evangelicals and is similar to the Catholics' (and the Anglicans') Magnificat in its remembrance of Mary for accepting to become the mother of Jesus.

Remember the social context here: Mary was saying "yes" to become a young and unmarried mother, a daunting task then (and now). More conservative Christians say this acceptance presents Mary as a model of unquestioning obedience while liberals, including feminists, say that here we see Mary is a model of feminine independence and courage. Conservatives and liberals do find common ground though in agreeing with Protestant theologian J. I. Packer's description of Mary as an example of trustful devotion.

Kathleen Norris, a Protestant writer known for her inspirational books, grapples with this mother of Jesus in an article in Christianity Today, asking if we shouldn't be setting aside the doctrinal differences and instead reflect on who Mary was: "She is poor yet gloriously rich. She is blessed among women yet condemned to witness her son's execution. She is human yet God-bearer..."

Norris is especially intrigued by the presentation of Mary as a virgin mother and asks herself: "To what extent can I remain 'virgin,' one-in-myself, able to come to things with newness of heart, and in what sense must I become 'mother,' losing myself in the nurture and service of others and embracing life's circumstances with the ripeness of maturity?"

My male readers might be reacting that religion is always such female talk. But Norris transforms her reflections into a challenge: "This Mary is a gender-bender; she asks the same question of any Christian man."

Are all these reflections getting too heavy? Then look at some of the lyrics of "Light of a Million Mornings": "I couldn't see the sunshine through the shadow. I couldn't seem to find a soul to care. But in my darkest hour, you touched me with your power. And when I look your light was everywhere..." The reprise talks of the light of a million mornings filling the heart, then moves on: "I couldn't try to understand the sunrise. I only know it takes away the dark..."

They're simple words to explain what trustful devotion is all about. It would have been useful if UP's Singing Ambassadors had explained the song before their rendition, and why it takes on a special meaning for people, of whatever faith, as they take on new roles in life such as with our new graduates.

Maybe, too, we might want to reflect on how trustful devotion -- whether in a religious or more secular context, such as a trust in people -- takes on the radiance of the light of a million mornings. The metaphor may seem a bit too dramatic for some, but it might be just what we need as we set out on a new phase in our nation's life, all too fraught with questions, uncertainties and risks.

Comments to miguel@pinoykasi.net