“My soul magnifies
the Lord…. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up
the lowly.”
A young man, a lifetime of promise ahead of
him. He has a run-in with the law and is unjustly punished. In the aftermath, he’s
targeted as just another petty criminal who got what he deserved.
Headlines from Ferguson, Missouri?
Could be. But actually, you’re off by well over 5,000 miles and more than five
centuries.
That’s because the place is Corfu, off the
west coast of Greece. The time is 1530. The victim: a teen named Stephen, a native
of Corfu, a Greek. The public face of the law? Simon “The Lion” Balbi, Governor
of Corfu commanding the Venetian Republic’s forces of occupation.
All factors point to confrontation, but not your
average police-blotter, rebel-without-a-cause dust-up. This is life-altering
confrontation for Stephen, for Balbi, and for all involved in events scarred by
unjustifiable violence.
Picture this: According to legend, en
route from the nearby city back to his village, Stephen becomes an innocent
party to a crime. Thugs he just happens to be walking beside ─ to his horror ─ rob
at knife-point some other folks they accost on the road.
Loot-in-hand, the thieves hightail it. Their
victims report the incident to the police. The police initiate a manhunt ─ a
manhunt that comes up dry … except for nabbing Stephen, whom the victims ID as
one of the perps. Guilt by association.
The police arrest Stephen and book him. In
the ensuing interrogation, he vehemently protests his innocence, but to no
avail. And he’s no more successful at his court appearance. The verdict?
“Guilty as charged.”
Then it’s up to Governor Balbi to impose the sentence.
He gives the accused a choice: “We can either gouge out your eyes or cut off
your hands. Choose.”
Stephen ─ reluctantly ─ chooses the eye-gouging
option. And, as is the custom in that part of the world, the sentence is
carried out as a form of public entertainment. Lots and lots of people witness
the whole gory business.
It’s up to Stephen’s mother to pick up the
pieces. Completely unhinged by this sudden and violent turn of events, she stations
Stephen outside the village church. And resorting to begging, they throw
themselves upon the mercy of their neighbors. That proves to be a bust. No sympathy
whatsoever. “Stephen’s a thief. He got what he deserved!”
Time for Plan B. Capitalizing on the anonymity
bestowed by distance, the mother leads Stephen 18 miles away to the Church of
the Theotokos in the village of Cassiope. “Theotokos.” Equals “God-Bearer,” or “Mother
of God.” I think “The One who brought us God (in the form of Jesus Christ)” may
be a mouthful, but is more accurate. Bottomline: Think of “Theotokos” as St.
Mary the Virgin.
Now, each year at this time, I do a riff on
one of the many icons of the Virgin Mary associated with popular piety: flying
icons, talking icons, three-handed icons. So, wouldn’t you know, the Church of
St. Mary the Virgin in Cassiope boasts an icon of Jesus and his mother that,
like the other icons in this yearly series, is rumored to perform miracles.
That means: crowds of pilgrims flock to the
miraculous icon in Cassiope now, as then. If you’re forced to rely on the kindness
of strangers who are either seeking a favor from God or thankful that they got
one, a place like Cassiope known for its wonder-working icon is the place to be.
Topping the upgraded panhandling outlook, a monk
at the church takes pity on Stephen and his mother, and, recognizing that
they’re essentially homeless, allows them to sleep in the church for a few nights
until they can extract some capital from the pilgrims.
Night falls. Before you can say, “Now I lay
me down to sleep,” the heavy-lidded mother is in Dreamland. But Stephen, eyeless
and restless, the pain shooting from his scabrous sockets, tosses and turns
until ─ semi-conscious ─ he senses gentle fingers pressing firmly into the
empty spaces only the day before occupied by his eyes.
Coming-to out of his confusion, he bolts upright
just in time to see a resplendent Lady-in-Blue ─ gleaming in blinding light ─ before
his very eyes. His very eyes! The Lady vanishes in an instant.
Rattled by what he thinks might a waking
dream, Stephen begins to scour the church. His eyes dart here, and there, and
there. “Who lit all these candles and lamps? They’re hurting my eyes!” he screams,
waking his mother. She beats up on him: “First you lose your eyes.
Now you’re losing your mind!”
Ignoring her, Stephen rushes over to the miraculous
icon of the Mother of God ─ and I’m sure this will come as a complete surprise
─ the Madonna in the icon is the spitting image of the Lady-in-Blue who
had just restored his eyes!
But here’s where the story takes a truly eye-popping
turn. When Stephen’s mother finally settles down, she’s shocked to discover that
his sockets are indeed now filled with new eyes and not just miraculous transplants
of the originals.
How does she know? The eyes her son was born
with ─ the eyes that were gouged out by the Governor’s executioner ─ were brown.
Stephen’s new eyes are eyes befitting the Mother of God: blue eyes, the
gift of the Lady-in-Blue.
But there’s an even better reason they’re blue.
It has to do with proof.
Meaning: In their ecstasy, Stephen and his
mother are making a general racket, shouting and clapping and dancing around
the icon in praise of the Mother of God. The commotion rouses the monk, who’s
at first quite put out ─ “How’s a guy supposed to get any sleep around here
with you two carrying on!” ─ until he gets a gander at Stephen’s eyes. He
doesn’t have to ask “Jeepers creepers! Where’d you get those peepers!” because
he knows exactly where Stephen got them: the miraculous icon of the Virgin
Mary.
Then he shifts gears to “monk on a mission.”
He heads straight for the Governor’s palace and ─ demanding an immediate
audience ─ denounces the Governor to his face. “You, Balbi, have punished the
young man Stephen unjustly. But God has vindicated his innocence by giving him new
eyes through the intercession of the Virgin Mary!”
The Governor ─ more skeptical than moved ─ makes
a beeline with his retinue to the shrine to examine Stephen for himself. When
he gets there ─ and seeing that Stephen has a genuine pair of working eyes ─ he
charges the executioner with not gouging out Stephen’s eyes in the first place.
“You want proof I yanked his eyes from their sockets?”
the executioner retorts. “Here!” Whereupon he produces the eyes ─ Stephen’s brown
eyes ─ the originals ─ rolling around in the bucket into which the executioner
had tossed them just the day before. (Why hold on to these things? Let’s not
even go there.)
Does Balbi drop the matter there and then?
No. Full of remorse, he begs the young man’s forgiveness for the injustice he
had inflicted upon him. Moreover, the Governor makes good on his regret by showering
Stephen with gifts and by becoming a surrogate father to him.
And a short time later, acknowledging the
role of the Mother of God in the affair ─ and highlighting her agency as “Mary,
Mirror of Justice” ─ Balbi does a make-over of the miracle-working shrine at
Cassiope.
What a great story, a great story for a day
like today … because justice ─ giving to people what they are owed as persons
made in the image and likeness of God ─ is the founding principle of the life,
ministry, and intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary, she who professed, “My
soul magnifies the Lord…. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, and sent
the rich away empty.”
Consequently, as the Governor discovered, central
to our observance of the Feast of St. Mary the Virgin is her clarion call to justice
and our robust response to that call: for starters, righting imbalances
of disadvantage by ─ like God ─ sending “the rich away empty.” For example, by
means of nonviolent income- and opportunity-redistribution.
And, I’m thinking here particularly of the
demands of justice triggered by events in Ferguson, Missouri, following the
fatal police shooting of unarmed, 18 year-old Michael Brown … and the light
that is now shining on the pervasive and rampant racism in that St. Louis County
city … echoes of our own subliminal and overt racism. Fact is, Ferguson’s
racism isn’t unique. It’s just more concentrated, but neither more nor less
toxic than racism that hits closer to home.
Now, while it’s easy to take sides based on
our own knee-jerk biases, I think it’s simplistic to be 100 percent for or against
Michael Brown at this point … 100 percent for or against the officer who shot
him, Darren Wilson.
And I think it would be inappropriate to litigate
this tragedy from the pulpit (or from a blog, for that matter). The case for
litigating this tragedy with finality in any venue at this point is inappropriate,
because there are too many unanswered questions ─ questions that have absolutely
nothing to do with Brown’s potential criminal involvement in stealing cheap
cigars from a convenience store and roughing up the store clerk.
For example, questions raised by reporter
Nick Wing of the Huffington Post:
How and why did Brown end up dead in the middle of the street?
Was Officer Wilson justified in shooting down Brown?
Did Brown really assault the officer in his vehicle and reach for his
gun, as police claim?
Did Wilson fire the fatal shot while Brown had his hands up, as other
eyewitnesses claim?
How does this incident play into the broader trend of police using excessive
force on unarmed black males?
Now, I’ve drawn some parallels between the Stephen
of legend and the reality of Michael Brown:
Stephen was unjustly accused. Stephen was
unjustly punished. Stephen suffered unjustly. And yet, thanks to the Blessed
Virgin Mary’s reversing a gross miscarriage of justice, not just Stephen’s eyesight
but his eyes ─ or a pair of eyes not his own ─ designer eyes built according to
the Virgin’s specs ─ were better than restored.
Michael Brown was ─ according to most witnesses
─ unjustly accused. Michael Brown was unjustly punished. Michael Brown, after once
shot and pleading, “Hands up! Don’t shoot!” suffered unjustly, gunned down by
Darren Wilson.
But unlike Stephen’s eyes, Michael Brown has not
had his life restored. Michael Brown is dead.
And we need answers. Michael Brown, Darren
Wilson, the Ferguson community, all. All are owed answers. All are owed justice,
the justice that is the Virgin Mary’s passion. Justice for persons accused, punished, and suffering unjustly. Justice: what, in God’s book, we
are all owed.
Today, then, we ask the Mother of God to join
her prayers with ours as we pray for justice in Ferguson … in Gaza … justice for
Christians and Yazidis and all minorities in Iraq … justice for victims of Ebola
in western Africa. We pray ─ with our Mother Mary ─ for justice that will bring
an end to racism in our own communities and in our own hearts.
And may the Holy Mother of God ─ the Mirror
of Justice ─ direct our prayers to the throne of God ─ God, who brings
down the powerful from their thrones and lifts up the lowly.
Amen.
