BBC Radio 4 20170815

I found myself recently in a conversation that took an unexpected turn. A young woman, now living in the UK, but born into another culture on another continent, was talking about her current experience of being homeless, trying to cope with life in a big city, with few friends or supporters. She suddenly burst out with the news that she has discovered she is pregnant. I felt bitterly ashamed of my church tradition as the first thing she said was – are you going to tell me I can’t come into the church anymore?

She had delayed coming to see a priest as she kind of assumed that was what any of us would say. I assured her, of course, that not only would she be more than welcome, but that I would be delighted to welcome and baptise her child when it came. Her tears gradually became tears less of shame than relief.

This 21st century conversation echoed centuries of Christian history: and I reflected on the irony of the terrible shame inflicted on women by generations of clergy and churchgoers, because today, most of the 2 billion Christians in the world are celebrating the Feast of the Assumption or Dormition of another unmarried pregnant young woman, Mary. The figure of Mary, what she means and how she’s interpreted, has often been a cause of disagreement and division between Christians, but between faiths, she has the potential to be a powerful figure of connection. This young Jewish woman, whose great song of liberation, the Magnificat, is sung in English cathedrals every day at Evensong, imitates in her words, the song of Hannah in the First Book of Samuel, as she sang of her own unexpected pregnancy. Mary embodies in her story and song, the irreducible debt owed by Christians to Judaism. And Mary is the only woman to have a sura, or chapter of the Quran named after her. Whenever I meet Muslim friends, they will often point to this fact, as a way of demonstrating our connection and our common stories.

Last week on radio 4, a midwife volunteering for Médecins Sans Frontières told of her experience delivering babies at sea for women who’d been rescued from migrant ships on the Mediterranean. And it’s an obvious thing to say – but women don’t have to be in war zones or famine situations to suffer in the hazardous process of giving birth.

So I hope that in the cacophony of processions, parties, prayers and celebrations today, the voice of Mary is heard too as the voice of a strong young woman, ready to confound society’s expectations of her in the following of her vocation; in her case, to be a mother unashamed; faithful and brave.