1.1 The New Testament

Out of all the texts compiled into what would become the New Testament, the epistles of Paul are the earliest (often dated to the fifties CE). Throughout his vast corpus, Mary is mentioned only once unambiguously, yet not by name, in Gal 4:4–5:

But when the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, in order to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as children.

As with the other Pauline epistles, Galatians is primarily concerned with expounding upon the significance of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection. This is usually articulated in terms of Christ’s fulfilment of the old dispensation, under which ‘no one is justified before God’, and his establishment of the new, by which ‘we might receive the promise of the Spirit through faith’ (Gal 3:11, 14). It is within this broader context that Paul’s allusion to Mary in Gal 4:4 occurs. When viewed in this light, Paul is seen to envisage Mary’s conception of Christ as that which enables Christ to become subject to the law, engender its fulfilment, and inaugurate the new dispensation through which humanity can be saved. In short, Paul presents Mary as playing a role within so-called ‘salvation history’; it is through her that salvation is able to be effected. This perception of Mary, as an actor in salvation, is further developed in the second century, and continues to be expressed by the Orthodox Church today (see section 1.4).

Furthermore, whilst it is not explicit, Christians since the early second century have connected Rom 1:3 – which describes Christ as being ‘born of the seed of David according to the flesh’ – to Mary (e.g. see Ignatius of Antioch, Epistle to the Smyrnaeans 1; 1995: 86).

Turning to the four gospels, it is evident that Matthew and Luke are the most vocal about the Virgin Mary. Indeed, only these two gospels include infancy narratives about Christ. Yet, in Luke’s retelling, the narrative centres more distinctly on Mary (Luke 1:26–38). She is described as a young virgin living in Nazareth, betrothed to a man named Joseph. The Archangel Gabriel appears to her, and greets her as the ‘highly favoured’ one before God. Mary is ‘greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be’ (Luke 1:29). After Gabriel explains the reason for his visit, Mary probes him, and asks how she can conceive a child since she is a virgin. As Mary B. Cunningham notes, later Orthodox preachers and hymnographers were fond of dramatically retelling this conversation, elaborating the dialogue ‘in order to make this scene come to life for Christian congregations’ (2015: 32). Mary’s exchange with Gabriel in Luke, and in the subsequent sermons and hymns, offers an important insight into the fundamentally human and voluntary character of her ultimate response: ‘“I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfilled”’ (Luke 1:38). The significance of her free choice in the Orthodox tradition will be explored in more detail in section 1.4.

Luke’s gospel then records that Mary visited her cousin Elizabeth in Judaea (Luke 1:39–56). There, after a brief conversation, Mary erupts into a song reminiscent of the prayer said by Hannah as she dedicated her son, Samuel, to the temple (1 Sam 2:1–10). Mary’s song, also referred to as the Magnificat, displays her obedience and thankfulness towards God. She recalls the mercy and love that God had previously shown towards his people, and acknowledges that presently, ‘the Mighty One has done great things for’ her. For this reason, Mary exclaims, ‘[f]rom now on all generations will call me blessed’ (Luke 1:48–49). The Orthodox Church sees in this exclamation an affirmation of its devotional attitude towards Mary.

Though sparingly, the Synoptic Gospels also mention the Virgin at various points during Christ’s later life and ministry. In Mark’s account, however, she is only referred to in passing. For example, after hearing Christ preach in the synagogue, the crowd queries: ‘Is not this the carpenter, the Son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?’ (Mark 6:3). Such verses, which can be similarly found in the other gospels, raise the question of how we are to interpret Christ having ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’. The understanding of the Orthodox Church will be covered in section 3.1.

Further, the Synoptic Gospels relay instances from Christ’s ministry where, at first glance, he seems to diminish the importance of his mother (Mark 3:31–35; Matt 12:46–50; Luke 8:19–21; 11:27–28). To take Luke 11:27–28 as an example, Jesus responds to a woman who cried, ‘Blessed is the womb that bore you and the breasts that nursed you’, with ‘Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and obey it!’ According to Lossky, the earlier instance in Luke 8 offers a crucial lens with which to view these supposed rebukes (1974: 199–200). Paralleling Luke 11:27–28, when Jesus is told, ‘[y]our mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to see you’, he responds by stating: ‘My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it’. Yet, as Lossky observes, Luke 8:19–21 proceeds directly after the Parable of the Sower. Therein, Jesus explains that the ‘seed is the word of God’ (Luke 8:11). When the seed falls upon the ‘good soil’, he is describing ‘the ones who, when they hear the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart [kardia], and bear fruit with patient endurance’ (Luke 8:15). Building on this, Lossky comments that

it is precisely this faculty of keeping the words heard concerning Christ in an honest and good heart – the faculty which elsewhere Christ exalts above the fact of corporeal maternity (Luke 11:28) – which the Gospel attributes to no individual except the Mother of the Lord. (Lossky 1974: 199–200)

Indeed, twice in Luke’s infancy narrative, it is said that ‘Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart [kardia]’ (Luke 2:19, 51). Thus, within the Orthodox tradition, the aforementioned verses are not seen as diminishing the importance of Mary. Rather, they are interpreted as outlining the exemplary nature of her character, as one obedient to the divine will. It is her preexisting faithfulness to God which allowed her to become Christ’s mother. In other words, Mary is regarded as paradigmatic of what it is to be a Christian, as one who lives a life pleasing to God and thus enables Christ to dwell within her (see section 3.2). This is why Luke 11:27–28 is read during the Liturgy for three of the Church’s four major Marian feasts (her Nativity, Entry into the Temple, and Dormition), which celebrate moments from her entire life of utter devotion to God. The exception is the feast of the Annunciation, because it is on this occasion that Mary actually receives the Word of God himself (Behr 2006: 127–128).

In John’s gospel, the Virgin features most prominently in two episodes. First, at the beginning in the story of the wedding at Cana, where Jesus performs his first public miracle, turning water into wine, at Mary’s request (John 2:1–12). For an insightful modern Orthodox exegesis of John 2:3–5, which interprets Christ’s seemingly harsh words towards his mother in verse 4 as alerting her to his death and resurrection, whilst simultaneously providing her with reassurance, see Timothy G. Patitsas, The Ethics of Beauty (2021: 123–126).

Second, at the end of the narrative, Mary is depicted standing at the foot of the cross (John 19:25–27). Matthew’s account names the women present at the crucifixion as Mary Magdelene, Mary the mother of James and Joseph, and the mother of the sons of Zebedee (Matt 27:55–56). Mark agrees with these names, but replaces the latter with Salome (Mark 15:40). Luke’s gospel acknowledges that ‘the women who had followed him from Galilee’ were present (Luke 23:49), but fails to disclose any names until 24:10, where it lists Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and ‘the other women’. Only in John’s telling of the event is the Virgin Mary explicitly mentioned, alongside Mary the wife of Clopas and Mary Magdalene (John 19:25). The Gospel of John is also unique in allowing its readers to hear a brief moment of dialogue between Christ, his mother, and the beloved disciple (widely held to be the Apostle John himself). It is this intimate moment that the Orthodox Church’s iconographic tradition draws from in its depiction of the crucifixion. Whilst other figures may be present, Mary and John are typically displayed as the ones closest to Christ. It is even common for the Virgin and the beloved disciple to be shown exclusively by Christ’s side (see Hart 2022: 245–277).

Another source of inspiration for the iconographic tradition comes from the single mention of Mary in the Acts of the Apostles. Immediately following the ascension, the disciples ‘returned to Jerusalem’, and ‘together with certain women, including Mary the mother of Jesus, as well as his brothers’, ‘were constantly devoting themselves to prayer’ (Acts 1:12, 14). Though this passage is brief, it provided a foundation for later iconographers to depict Mary at the ascension, and sometimes even Pentecost. Remarkably, these images often feature Mary in a position of authority, because she is also functioning as a symbol of the church (see section 4). Perceiving Mary as an ecclesial image also led later Christian writers to recognize the Virgin in Rev 12:1–6.

1.2 Prophecies of Mary in the Old Testament

First identified by Matthew’s gospel (Matt 1:23), the most apparent prophecy concerning Mary in the Old Testament is Isa 7:14, which reads: ‘Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Emmanuel’. Much attention has been paid to the word translated as ‘virgin’ here. In most Hebrew texts, the noun is ‘almah, which means a ‘young girl’, though not necessarily a virgin. However, the Greek translation (and to some extent interpretation) of the Old Testament, known as the Septuagint (or LXX), uses the term parthenos (virgin) specifically. To begin with, the name ‘Septuagint’ referred only to a particular translation of the Torah, but it later came to encompass Greek versions of other biblical books. For the majority of diaspora Jews (those outside the locus of Judaea), Greek was their first language. Consequently, the Septuagint became the primary translation they used in synagogues. In turn, it also became the predominant version used by the early Christians. This is why the vast majority of citations from the Old Testament in the New come from the Septuagint.

A related prophecy to Isa 7:14 is found in Mic 5:2–3, which details Bethlehem as the location for Christ’s birth from ‘she who is in labour’. As in Isa 7:14, Mary is described as the one to bring forth the Saviour, ‘who is to rule Israel, whose origin is from old, from ancient days’ (Mic 5:2). Significantly, then, these prophecies not only prepared the Jews for the coming of the Messiah, but also his mother.

1.3 Typology in early Christian exegesis

Modern biblical exegesis can be broadly defined as the application of historical and literary critical approaches to the texts of scripture. It is a hermeneutic (that is, a particular way of reading) motivated by the notion that one can use scientific methodology to uncover the ‘intended’ meaning of biblical passages, and ‘original’ versions of biblical texts. This approach is heavily resisted by the Orthodox Church, which maintains that Christ himself serves as the key to interpreting scripture – a perspective influenced by Luke 24:13–35, where Jesus appears to two of his disciples on the road to Emmaus, and, ‘beginning with Moses [i.e. the Pentateuch] and all the prophets, he interpreted to them things about himself in all the scriptures’ (Luke 24:27). Luke’s claim that Christ disclosed his presence in ‘all the scriptures’ also informs the Church’s view that the scriptures are to be treated as an integrated whole – the entirety of which gesture towards the mystery of salvation in Christ. Yet, given that the ‘plain meaning’ of the scriptures may not always overtly point to Christ, such a perspective requires the recognition of meaning beyond the confines of a purely literal reading. Given this, the early Christians admitted the scriptures to be multivalent, containing both literal and ‘higher’ meanings without contradiction. As Ephrem the Syrian (d. 373) writes: ‘Anyone who encounters Scripture should not suppose that the single one of its riches that he has found is the only one to exist’ (Commentary on the Diatessaron 1.18; 2012: 28). In order to elicit the references to the new dispensation hidden in the Old Testament, the early Christians engaged extensively in a typological reading of the scriptures.

According to John of Damascus (d. 749), types are ‘images of the future’ which describe ‘the things to come in shadowy enigmas’ (On the Divine Images I.12; 2003: 27). The ‘things to come’ are called antitypes. To illustrate typology, recall the story of Jonah, who remained in the belly of the sea monster for three days before emerging (Jonah 1:17; 2:10). The church fathers, following Matt 12:39–41, saw this as a type of Christ’s death and resurrection on the third day. By this, it is meant that Christ’s story was already conveyed by the story of Jonah, but obscurely. It is only now, in the light of the risen Christ, that by reading the story of Jonah one can perceive the story of Christ (Luke 24:27). It is only with access to the fulness of Christian revelation that the types within the Old Testament are now discernible (Irenaeus of Lyons, Against Heresies IV.26.1; 1995: 496–497). This is why types are often referred to as shadows in the New Testament (Acts 17:1–4; 10–12; Col 2:17; Heb 8:5–6; 10:1).

In a sermon delivered at the beginning of the fifth century, Proclus of Constantinople (d. 446) proclaimed: ‘the entire miracle of the Virgin birth [is] hidden in the shadows’ (Homily 2, IX; 2003: 173). Proclus was not peculiar in his recognition of Marian types in the scriptures. In actuality, it was ‘the entire patristic tradition East and West’ that engaged in the ‘study of the foreshadowing of Mary in the Old Testament’ (Pelikan 1996: 24). As will be demonstrated in section 1.4, approaching the scriptures typologically played a vital role in the Church’s reflection on Mary.

A final point to note about typology is that, whilst types silently gesture towards their antitypes, there is also a sense in which antitypes can be partially present in their types. Elucidating this idea, John Breck writes:

it must be understood that typology involves a double movement: from past to future, but also from future to past. That is, within the type the antitype or archetype is already proleptically present, present by anticipation, as in the formula ‘already but not yet (in fullness)’. (Breck 2001: 23, original emphasis)

It is armed with this dynamic understanding of typology that Gregory Palamas (d. 1357), for example, is able to assert:

It was because Moses foresaw that she [Mary] would be the living Tabernacle who would hold God, that he erected that other Tabernacle, prepared that inmost sanctuary for her sake and, learning from God what would befall her, dignified it with sublimely exalted names, indicating to all in advance, by word and deed, the extraordinary, all-surpassing worthiness that would be hers by infancy. (On the Entry into the Holy of Holies II; Gregory Palamas 2005: 26)

1.4 Shadows of Mary in the Old Testament

Most of the Marian types in the Old Testament relate to the paradox of the Virgin containing the Uncontainable One in her womb. By the time of John of Damascus, who wrote during the initial half of the eighth century, many of these shadows had already been brought to light through homilies, hymns, and icons. Drawing on the Church’s existing typological depository, John, in his first homily On the Dormition of the Holy Mother of God, writes:

You are the royal throne, around which the angels stand to see their Lord and creator seated upon it. You are called the spiritual Eden, holier and more divine than that of old; for in the former Eden the earthly Adam dwelt, but in you the Lord from heaven. The ark prefigured you, in that it guarded the seeds of a second world, for you gave birth to Christ, the world’s salvation, who overwhelmed <the flood of> sin and calmed its waves. The burning bush was a portrait of you in advance; the tablets written by God described you; the ark of the law told your story; the golden urn and the candelabrum and table, the rod of Aaron that had blossomed – all clearly were foreshadowings [of you]. (On the Dormition of the Holy Mother of God 8; John of Damascus 1998: 192)

This list is by no means exhaustive, but it offers a glimpse at some of the typological references to Mary that the Church had picked up on by the eighth century. As Andrew Louth observes, all of these examples are places where God was encountered (2011: 158–159). Some are also places where God was worshipped, and as such, were treated with reverence; an example being the burning bush, where Moses was told: ‘Do not come near; take your sandals off your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground’ (Exod 3:5). In short, the above objects were revered precisely because they were places where God manifested himself. For Proclus, the same reason undergirds the honour paid to the Virgin: ‘Mary is venerated for she became a mother, a servant, a cloud, a bridal chamber, and the ark of the Lord’ (Homily 5, III; 2003: 263). Yet, as mentioned in section 1.3, types are merely shadows of their antitypes. In Mary, then, the fullness of the type is revealed. God does not simply reveal himself through her as with the bush and the Ark. Rather, the fullness of God’s divinity dwells hypostatically (that is, personally, as the Son of God) within her. (For the implications of Mary as Mother of God, see section 7.)

Furthermore, whilst Mary is a place of God, she is more than that. She is not a passive dwelling place of God; she is the one who said ‘yes’ to him and voluntarily became his mother (Louth 2011: 159). The theological significance of the Virgin’s freedom is best explored with recourse to one of the earliest Marian types to be articulated in the Church: namely, Eve as a type of Mary.

This connection further elaborated upon the apostle Paul’s understanding of Adam as a type of Christ, which can be found in Rom 5:14–15 and 1 Cor 15:20–22. In both of these pericopes, Paul draws a parallel between Adam and Christ, and contrasts the consequences of their respective actions in order to express the saving work of Christ. Through his transgression, Adam brought death into the world, whereas Christ, through his life, death, and resurrection, brought about life. In the second century, after reflecting upon the typological connection between Adam and Christ (as the second Adam), the early Christians extended this parallel to incorporate a typological connection between Eve and Mary, whom they considered to be the second Eve. Irenaeus of Lyons (d. c. 202), for example, writes:

And just as through a disobedient virgin man was struck and, falling, died, so by means of a virgin, who obeyed the word of God, man, being revivified, received life […]. For it was necessary for Adam to be recapitulated in Christ, that ‘mortality might be swallowed up in immortality’: and Eve in Mary, that a virgin, become an advocate for a virgin, might undo and destroy the virginal disobedience by virginal obedience. (On the Apostolic Preaching 33; Irenaeus of Lyons 1997: 61)

In this passage, it is important to note that Irenaeus nests the typological connection between Eve and Mary within his overarching theme of recapitulation. The term ‘recapitulation’, which has its roots in classical rhetoric, often refers to the ‘conclusion’, or ‘summing up’ of the themes in a speech. Theologically, it refers to the historical moment when the Son of God became incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary, as this was the moment which God had known since the beginning of creation, and towards which everything was heading (Cunningham 2015: 74). In short, the recapitulation of the world (the beginning of which is narrated in the texts of the New Testament) is its being brought to fulfilment. With this in mind, it becomes apparent that, for Irenaeus, the actions of Mary not only contrast with those of Eve, they reverse them. Again, the type is not merely repeated in the antitype, it is fulfilled. Expressing this succinctly, he writes:

Just as [Eve] was led astray by an angelic word, so that she fled from God, having betrayed his word, so [Mary] received the good news through an angelic word that she might bear God, obedient to his word. For if [Eve] was disobedient to God, [Mary] was persuaded to obey God, so that the virgin Mary became advocate for the virgin Eve. And just as the human race was bound to death by a virgin, so it was saved by a virgin, virginal disobedience being equally balanced by virginal obedience. (Against Heresies V.19.2; quoted in Louth 2018: 133)

Evidently, for Irenaeus, the recapitulation of Eve centres on the theme of freedom. It was because of Eve’s own volition that humanity ‘was struck, and falling, died’. Correspondingly, it was through the voluntary obedience of Mary towards God that ‘man, being revivified, received life’. Through their respective uses of freedom, Eve played an active role in the condemnation of the cosmos, and Mary played an active role in its salvation. This idea of the salvific import of Mary’s free choice became prevalent in patristic reflections on the Virgin from the second century onwards. It also became enshrined within the hymnal tradition of the Orthodox Church. For instance, the Akathist Hymn, composed in the fifth/sixth century, is sung on the first four Fridays of Lent, and on ‘Akathistos Saturday’ at the end of the fifth week (Cunningham 2015: 82). The hymn’s first ikos, or stanza, dramatizes the reaction of the Archangel Gabriel to Mary’s uncoerced, ‘May your word to me be fulfilled’ (Luke 1:38):

Hail, for through thee joy shall shine forth:
Hail, for through thee the curse shall cease.
Hail, recalling of fallen Adam:
Hail, deliverance from the tears of Eve. (Lenten Triodion; 2002: 423)

3.1 Perpetual virginity

The Orthodox tradition insists upon the perpetual virginity of Mary. The Fifth Ecumenical Council of Constantinople (553), which is viewed as authoritative and binding by the Church, employs the Marian epithet aeiparthenos, or ‘Ever-Virgin’ (Breck 2001: 144). However, the ever-virginity of Mary had been asserted long before this. Whispers of the idea, or at least of her remaining a virgin through labour (often referred to as virginitas in partu) are found in multiple apocryphal texts: the Ascension of Isaiah and the Odes of Solomon, both probably belonging to the early and late second century respectively, and the Protevangelium (see section 2). Mary’s virginity prior to the incarnation was also challenged, most famously by the pagan Celsus in c.178, who, in turn, was rebutted by Origen of Alexandria (d. c. 253). Yet, it was not until the fourth century that detailed arguments emerged in defence of Mary’s virginity in perpetuity.

John Chrysostom (d. 407), for example, opposes those who suggest that Joseph had sexual relations with Mary on the basis of Matt 1:25, which states that Joseph, ‘had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son’. According to Chrysostom, the expression ‘until’ is often used in scripture ‘without reference to limited times’ (Homily V on Matthew 5; 1995: 33). Developing this line of argument further, the recent Orthodox saint, John Maximovitch (d. 1966), collates various scriptural passages in which the term ‘until’ and words similar to it are used, such as Ps 71(72):7): ‘In his days may righteousness flourish and peace abound, until the moon is no more’. Maximovitch remarks that, ‘this does not mean that when there shall no longer be a moon at the end of the world, God’s righteousness shall no longer be; precisely then, rather, will it triumph’ (2012: 32). Likewise, he comments that Christ’s statement before his departure in Matt 28:20, that he will be with the disciples always, ‘even until the end of the age’, does not mean that ‘after the end of the world the Lord will step away from his disciples’. Echoing Chrysostom, Maximovitch argues that, in both of these cases, the term ‘until’ does not suggest the cessation of what precedes it. It is in this light that Mary’s perpetual virginity is harmonized with Matt 1:25.

This still leaves the problem of Jesus’ supposed ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’. Within the Orthodox tradition, the siblings of Christ are understood in two ways. First, they are sometimes viewed as Jesus’ cousins – children of Mary’s sister, likewise called Mary, the wife of Clopas (John 19:25). Second, and more prevalently, they are regarded as children that Joseph fathered from a previous marriage. This tradition is witnessed to as early as the second century, in the Protevangelium, and is similarly espoused in the fourth century by Epiphanius of Salamis (d. 403). According to Epiphanius, Joseph was a widower who, by the time of meeting Mary, already had ‘six children in all, four boys and two girls’ (Panarion III 78, 7.1; 2013: 620). Epiphanius is also emphatic that Joseph ‘did not take a virgin as a sexual partner; she was committed to his protection’ (III 78, 8.4; 2013: 622). These ideas articulated by the Cypriot bishop inform the Orthodox Church’s view of Joseph as ‘the Betrothed’.

Additionally, the Orthodox Church identifies Old Testament types which gesture towards the ever-virginity of Mary. One is the burning bush, which remains unconsumed and unchanged by the fiery presence of God (Exod 3:2). Another is the ‘outer gate of the sanctuary’ of the temple in Ezekial’s vision, about which the Lord says: ‘This gate shall remain shut; it shall not be opened, and no one shall enter by it; for the Lord, the God of Israel, has entered by it; therefore it shall remain shut’ (Ezek 44:2). This imagery is deployed in an explicitly Marian context in a Theotokion sung on Holy Friday: ‘Hail! Gate of the King of Glory, through which the Most High alone has passed; and He left thee sealed again, for the salvation of our souls’ (Lenten Triodion; 2002: 584). As dwelling places of God, both the bush and the sanctuary were regarded as holy, and thus were treated with reverence. Likewise, the Virgin’s womb was sanctified by the presence of Christ. Given this, ‘how could it not be wrong’, queries Epiphanius, for a man to have relations ‘with a pure and honoured virgin, a vessel which had contained the Uncontainable and had received such a mystery of a heavenly sign and man’s salvation?’ (Panarion III 78, 8.4; 2013: 622).

3.2 Mary as a paragon of virtue

In An Oration on the Nativity of the Holy Theotokos Mary, John of Damascus refers to Mary as one who, ‘alone is virgin and ever-virgin; she alone forever remains a virgin in mind and soul and body’ (5; Cunningham 2008: 59). To declare such is indicative of the term ‘virgin’ being stretched beyond the mere description of a physiological state. Tracing the origins of this broadening takes us to at least the fourth century. It was during this era that asceticism garnered significant popularity, and those in favour of this way of life frequently ascribed to it a positive moral dimension, entwining virginity and virtuousness together. Within this climate, Mary emerged as the model ascetic, and thus, the archetypal Christian. For example, between c.337–c.339, Athanasius of Alexandria (d. 373) wrote his First Letter to Virgins, in which he extols Mary for her many virtues, and claims that she is paradigmatic of how all virgins are to conduct themselves (12–17; 1998: 277–278). Similarly, Ambrose of Milan (d. 397) states:

Let, then, the life of Mary be as it were virginity itself, set forth in a likeness, from which, as from a mirror, the appearance of chastity and the form of virtue is reflected. From this you may take your pattern of life, showing, as an example, the clear rules of virtue: what you have to correct, to effect, and to hold fast. (Concerning Virgins II.2.6; Ambrose of Milan 1995: 374)

In short, Ambrose asserts: ‘Mary was such that her example alone is a lesson for all’ (II.2.15; 1995: 375). For Athanasius and Ambrose, those who wish to live virtuously are to imitate the virginal life of Mary. This exhortation was, and continues to be, heeded by the Orthodox monastic tradition in particular. That Mary served as a model for one of the greatest early desert monastics, Abba Poemen (c.340–450), whose words and stories comprise nearly a quarter of the hugely influential Sayings of the Desert Fathers, is brought out lucidly by Constas in Abba Poemen and Mary at the Cross: On the Origins of Byzantine Devotion to the Mother of God (forthcoming). In his recent work on the Virgin Mary, which considers her role in contemporary monasticism, Archimandrite Zacharias Zacharou comments, ‘[t]he Most Holy Mother of God is the perfect example of monastic culture’; ‘Finding in her the example of thirst for things eternal, the monk hastens on the way of her Son’ (2023: 25, 27; original emphasis).

Lastly, it should be noted that there is a connection between Mary’s virginity and her motherhood. As Cunningham observes, the Orthodox tradition calls Mary the Theotokos, or ‘God-bearer’, ‘without distinguishing between the various phases of her youth, birth-giving, and subsequent life’ (2015: 92). This is because her entire life encapsulates what it is to be one constantly able to bear God. Such a life demands continuous personal purity and moral excellence; it requires a virginal existence. Mary’s perpetual virginity, then, with all the moral connotations it carries, is above all demanded by her role as Mother of God (Gambero 1999: 104); a role that she cannot relinquish, because ‘God the Word remains forever Jesus her Son’ (Gabriel 2000: 42). Articulating this idea, Symeon the New Theologian (d. 1022) writes, ‘indeed she gave birth to Him in the body, yet she always possessed all of Him in the Spirit, and has Him now, and will ever have Him inseparable from her’ (First Ethical Discourse; 1995: 60).

4.1 The Virgin Mother

One way to see the connection between Mary and the church is by focusing on the notion of the ‘Virgin Mother’. This term clearly applies to Mary, yet it quickly began to be employed in an ecclesial context. In doing this, the early Christians were simply drawing out the implications of the parental and virginal language found in Paul’s epistles, which he uses to describe his own relationship to the various Christian communities he addresses, and their relationship to Christ. For example, in 1 Cor 4:14–15, he states:

I am not writing this to make you ashamed, but to admonish you as my beloved children. For though you might have ten thousand guardians in Christ, you do not have many fathers. Indeed, in Christ Jesus I became your father through the gospel.

It was through hearing the gospel preached to them by Paul that faith was born within them (Rom 10:17). As a spiritual parent to these Christians, Paul makes it clear that his task is to nurture and cultivate their faith so that Christ becomes fully realised in every believer. Hence, he refers to the Christian community in Galatia as, ‘My little children, for whom I am again in the pain of childbirth until Christ is formed in you’ (Gal 4:19). Through baptism, Christians are born again in Christ, and must cooperate with him in order to be more fully conformed to his image and likeness. Those who become Christians are described by Paul as both ‘the body of Christ and individually members of it’ (1 Cor 12:27).

In short, Paul presents the acceptance of the gospel through baptism as a Christian’s birth, in which they ‘put on Christ’ (Gal 3:27). By leading a pleasing life to God, Christ becomes more fully present within them. And by virtue of his presence, they are able to call upon God as ‘Abba! Father!’ (Gal 4:6). Yet, Paul supplements his parental language concerning the church with imagery of a virginal bride. In Ephesians 5, Paul remarks that Gen 2:24, which mentions that a man shall leave his parents to join his wife and ‘become one flesh’ with her, is actually a reference ‘to Christ and the Church’ (Eph 5:32). Similarly, he tells the Christians in Corinth: ‘I betrothed you to one husband, to present you as a pure virgin to Christ’ (2 Cor 11:2). Given this language, it is unsurprising that the Church was referred to as the ‘Virgin Mother’ as early as the second century, especially when one considers his reference to the heavenly Jerusalem as ‘our mother’ (Gal 4:26).

The Shepherd of Hermas, a mid-second-century apocalyptic text that enjoyed significant popularity amongst early Christians (being prescribed as recommended reading by the second-century Muratorian Canon, included in the fourth-century Codex Sinaiticus, and even listed as a canonical text in the biblical catalogue of the fourth/fifth-century Codex Claromontanus), describes a series of visions in which the Church appears to Hermas as a woman. She first appears as an old woman because ‘she was created first of all’, and ‘for her sake was the world made’ (II.4; 2001: 12). As the visions continue, she gradually becomes younger, before finally appearing as a young maiden, ‘adorned as if she were proceeding from the bridal chamber, clothed entirely in white, and with white sandals, and veiled up to her forehead, and her head was covered by a hood’ (IV.2; 2001: 18). Here, the Church becomes the pure and spotless virgin which Paul speaks about presenting to Christ. She is a virgin, and yet at the same time addresses the Christians in Rome as her ‘children’ (III.9; 2001: 16).

A similar notion is expressed by Clement of Alexandria (d. c. 215):

The universal Father is one, and one the universal Word; and the Holy Spirit is one and the same everywhere, and one is the only virgin mother. I love to call her the Church. (Paedagogus I.6; Clement of Alexandria 2001: 220)

But it is in The Letter of the Churches of Vienne and Lyons, preserved in Eusebius of Caesarea’s (d. 339) Church History, that the identification of the Church as ‘Virgin Mother’ is most elaborated. The letter recounts the sufferings of Christians in Gaul in the year 177; many of whom were described as being ‘unable to endure so great a conflict’, and as such, were labelled as ‘abortions’ (V.1.11; 1995: 213). Yet Blandina, a young slave girl who was suspended on a stake, prayed fervently and encouraged them to persevere. Consequently, their sufferings were not ‘fruitless’:

for by their patience the measureless compassion of Christ was manifested. For through their continued life the dead were made alive, and the witnesses showed favour to those who had failed to witness. And the virgin mother had much joy in receiving alive those whom she had brought forth as dead. For through their influence many who had denied were restored, and re-begotten, and rekindled with life, and learned to confess. (Church History V.1.45–46; Eusebius of Caesarea 1995: 216)

By remaining faithful to Christ, the Church as Virgin Mother is able to conceive the dissenting Christians again in her womb in order to give birth to them as children of God through martyrdom. Such imagery continued to find expression in the church, with Proclus of Constantinople in the fifth century making reference to the ‘womb of baptism’ (Homily 3, IV; 2003: 199), and ‘the baptismal font that is both a virgin and the mother of many’ (Homily 12, I; quoted in Constas 2003: 207). Those converting to Orthodox Christianity today still have to profess their acknowledgement of the Church as their ‘Mother’ (The Office for the Reception of Converts; Hapgood 1996: 459).

It is possible that The Letter of the Churches of Vienne and Lyons was written by Irenaeus of Lyons, who comments elsewhere that it is through the Virgin Mary that Christians receive a new birth (Behr 2006: 122). He states that the Old Testament prophesied ‘that the Word should become flesh, and the Son of God the Son of man (the pure One opening purely that pure womb which regenerates men unto God […])’ (Against Heresies IV.33.11; 1995: 509). Similarly, Didymus of Alexandria (d. c. 398) compares Mary’s womb to the waters of baptism, because through baptism Christians become ‘one body’ with the One who was contained within her womb. He writes: ‘For [Mary] is the baptismal font of the Trinity, the workshop of salvation of all believers; and those who bathe therein she frees from the bite of the serpent and she becomes mother of all […]’ (On the Trinity II.13; Peltomaa 2001: 132–133). And in the Akathist Hymn, still sung in the Orthodox Church, Mary is eulogized as follows in the eleventh ikos:

Hail, for thou dost prefigure the baptismal font:
Hail, for thou takest away the filth of sin.
Hail, water washing clean the conscience:
Hail, cup wherein is mixed the wine of mighty joy. (Lenten Triodion; 2002: 435)

Here, in addition to baptism, Mary takes on the imagery of another Holy Mystery: the Eucharist. She is described in such sacramental language because, as the one who bears and brings forth Christ for the salvation of the world, as the ‘God-bearer’, Mary images the salvific work of the church, which aims to make Christ manifest in every believer. Expressing this parallel through song, Ephrem the Syrian asserts:

The Church gave us the living Bread,
in place of the unleavened bread that Egypt had given.
Mary gave us refreshing bread,
in place of the fatiguing bread that Eve had procured for us. (Hymns for the Unleavened Bread 6.6–7; Gambero 1999: 115–116)

In many Orthodox churches, the Virgin Mary is depicted either holding the Christ-child, or containing him within her womb, in the apse above the altar table in the sanctuary. These icons usually refer to her as the one whose womb is ‘wider [platytera] than the heavens’; a title reminiscent of John Chrysostom’s description of the church: ‘it is higher [hypsēlotera] than the heaven, it is wider [platytera] than the earth’ (On Eutropius II.6; PG 52: 402). The positioning of these icons is intentional. At the altar, in the womb of the Virgin Mother, is where the Eucharist is consecrated and Christ is borne.

4.2 Witnessing to God’s presence

For Ephrem the Syrian, the Mother of God is also seen to parallel the church through her exemplary attentiveness to God:

The Virgin Mary is a symbol of the Church, when she receives the first announcement of the gospel. And, it is in the name of the Church that Mary sees the risen Jesus. Blessed be God, who filled Mary and the Church with joy. We call the Church by the name of Mary, for she deserves a double name. (Ephrem the Syrian, On the Resurrection; Gambero 1999: 115)

Significantly, Ephrem claims that Mary, as an image of the church, is not only the first to receive the gospel, but also the first to witness the risen Christ (Hymns on the Crucifixion 4.17; Gambero 1999: 115). The Gospels of Mark and John give priority to Mary Magdalene as the first to see the risen Christ (Mark 16:9; John 20:14). Matthew describes Jesus appearing first to Mary Magdalene and ‘the other Mary’ (Matt 28:1–8), and in Luke, Christ first appears to two of his disciples on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:15). Yet, for Ephrem, the Virgin Mary supersedes the place of the others. In maintaining this, Ephrem is not interested in laying out the ‘historicity’ of the event. Rather, he is concerned with conveying the event’s theological reality (Behr 2006: 132). Thus, it is precisely in Mary’s capacity as a symbol of the Church, as that which preeminently witnesses to God’s presence, that she is depicted as the first to see the risen Christ.

This theological idea continued to find expression in the hymnography of the Church. In the sixth century, Romanos the Melodist (d. c. 555) composed a kontakion (a type of hymn) on the lament of Mary at the Cross, in which he portrays Christ reassuring his mother shortly before his death: ‘Take courage, mother, for you shall be the first to see me (risen) from the tomb […] (Gambero 1999: 336). For an argument which attempts to reconcile the idea of the Virgin Mary as the first to behold the risen Christ with the gospel accounts, see On the Mother of God as First to See the Risen Christ (Gregory Palamas 2005: 60–68).

4.3 The Daughter of Zion

Throughout the Old Testament, Israel is frequently personified as a woman, the ‘daughter of Zion’. She is depicted as a virgin betrothed to God (Isa 62:5; cf. 2 Kgs 19:21; Isa 37:22) and simultaneously as a mother labouring in anguish for the birth of her deliverance (Jer 4:31; Mic 4:10). As a ‘Virgin Mother’, Hesychius of Jerusalem (d. c. 451), for instance, sees the Daughter of Zion as a prophetic image of Mary (On Holy Mary the Mother of God; 1974: 74). Given the discussion in section 4.1, it is unsurprising that passages relating to the Daughter of Zion were also viewed as applying to the church (e.g. see The Second Epistle of Clement II; 1995: 517).

One of the closest parallels between Mary and the Daughter of Zion occurs in Luke’s account of the annunciation. In Luke 1:28, the angel Gabriel appears to Mary, greeting her with the words: ‘Rejoice, O favoured one, the Lord is with you!’ The term translated as ‘rejoice’, chaire (sometimes rendered as ‘hail’), appears only four times in the entire Septuagint (Thurian 1963: 14). In one instance, the ‘people of Zion’ are being addressed (Joel 2:21–23), and in two others, the recipient of the greeting is explicitly the Daughter of Zion (Zeph 3:14; Zech 9:9). Both Zephaniah and Zechariah link their greeting to the Daughter of Zion ‘with the proclamation of the messianic deliverance’ (Thurian 1963: 14). Zechariah 9:9 reads: ‘Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your King is coming to you […]’. And Zeph 3:16–17 states, ‘On that day it shall be said to Jerusalem: Do not fear, O Zion; do not let your hands grow weak. The Lord, your God, is in your midst’, which closely parallels Gabriel’s words in Luke 1:30–31: ‘Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favour with God. And now you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus […]’.

This close connection between Mary and the Daughter of Zion, as two figures who usher forth salvation, is expressed in the liturgical tradition of the Orthodox Church. During the Liturgy for the feast of the Annunciation, the Communion verse is Ps 131:13: ‘The Lord hath chosen Zion: He hath desired it for His habitation’ (Festal Menaion; 1998: 464). More strikingly, one of the readings for the Nativity is Micah 4:6–7, combined with 5:2–4 (1998: 256), which ties together God’s promise of deliverance to Zion, described as ‘a woman in labour’ (Mic 4:10), with the birth of a child in Bethlehem from ‘she who is in labour’ (Mic 5:3). Immediately after this is read, a troparion (stanza) delineating the birth of Christ is sung, with readings from Psalm 86 (87) dispersed throughout (1998: 256–257). In the Septuagint, verse 5 reads as follows: ‘A man shall say, Zion is my mother; and such a man was born in her; and the Highest himself has founded her’.

4.4 Mother of Life and Mother of the Living

Already alluded to in section 4.1 is the idea of Mary, and the Church, as the mother(s) of all Christians. Below, this idea receives further elucidation by focusing on one way the Orthodox tradition exegetes Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection.

Many patristic writers identify Christ’s death on the cross, particularly as it is recounted in John’s gospel, as the moment he established the church. John 19:31–34 narrates that after Jesus had died, his side was pierced, ‘and at once there came out blood and water’ (v34). According to John Chrysostom, for example, ‘one was a symbol of baptism, and the other of the mysteries [i.e. the Eucharist]’ (Baptismal Instruction III.16; 1963: 61). He continues: ‘It is from His side, therefore, that Christ formed His church, just as He formed Eve from the side of Adam’ (III.17; 1963: 62). Here, Chrysostom links the inauguration of the church at the cross with the birth of Eve. This connection is also made by Tertullian (d. c. 220), who asserts:

For as Adam was a figure of Christ, Adam’s sleep shadowed out the death of Christ, who was to sleep a mortal slumber, that from the wound inflicted on His side might, in like manner (as Eve was formed), be typified the church, the true mother of the living. (De Anima XLIII; Tertullian 1995: 222)

In the Septuagint, the name ‘Eve’ is translated literally as ‘Life’ (zoē): ‘And Adam called his wife’s name Life [Eve]; because she was the mother of all living’ (Gen 3:20). All those who were naturally conceived from this point forth owed their being to her. Yet, as a result of the fall, all Eve’s children die. Conversely, it is through the church, as Virgin Mother, that humanity can become one with Christ, Life himself (John 14:6), through the sacraments and experience eternal life. This is why Tertullian refers to the church as ‘the true mother of the living’. Within the Orthodox tradition, it is also accurate to describe Mary as such. In the Panarion, Epiphanius of Salamis writes:

It is Mary who is intimated by Eve, for she was symbolically given the title, ‘mother of the living’. […] Physically speaking, every birth of human beings on earth is from that Eve; but here life itself has truly been born into the world of Mary, so that Mary brings forth the Living One [Christ, in the singular] and becomes the mother of the Living [Christians, in the plural]. (Panarion III 78, 18.1; Epiphanius of Salamis 2013: 630)

For Epiphanius, the title was originally given to Eve because she typifies Mary. The title was applied to the first Eve in expectation of the second. Mary is the true ‘mother of the living’ because she became mother to Life himself, and consequently, became the mother of all those who find life in Christ. In other words, Mary’s motherhood to Christians is a corollary of her motherhood to Christ. As briefly discussed in section 4.1, this is because of the relationship between her womb, which bore Christ, and the sacraments, through which Christians become one with the body of her Son. Expressing this succinctly, Symeon the New Theologian states: ‘the Mother of God is lady and Queen and mistress and mother of all the saints […] because they partake of the all-pure flesh of her Son […]’; ‘flesh’, he insists, ‘which was taken [by Christ] from her […]’ (First Ethical Discourse; 1995: 60).

Just as the Orthodox tradition regards the crucifixion episode as the establishment of the church, it can also be seen to view this moment as the beginning of Mary’s motherhood to all Christians. The most pronounced Old Testament prophecy concerning Christ’s agony on the cross is Isaiah 53, which speaks of the Suffering Servant who is ‘pierced for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities […] and by his bruises we are healed’ (Isa 53:5). In the Byzantine Rite, the entirety of this chapter is read during Vespers on Holy Friday, the day when Christ’s death on the cross is ritually reenacted (Holy Week and Pascha; Papadeas 1979: 346–347). However, instead of concluding the reading at the end of the chapter, the last verse to be recited is Isa 54:1:

Sing, O barren one who did not bear; burst into song and shout, you who have not been in labour! For the children of the desolate woman will be more than the children of her that is married, says the Lord.

Here, the ‘barren one’ is the Daughter of Zion from Isaiah 52, who, as a direct result of the Suffering Servant (Christ on the cross), will receive many children without going through labour. By including Isa 54:1 in its commemoration of Christ’s death, the Vespers service is stating that this passage, like Isaiah 53, finds fulfilment in the crucifixion event. To see how it applies to Mary, note that, in John’s gospel, Jesus refers to Mary as ‘woman’ (John 2:4). It is only as he hangs from the cross, with Mary and John beneath Him, that he refers to her as ‘mother’: ‘he said to [his] mother, “Woman, behold, your son!” Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!”’ (John 19:26–27). The emphasis on Mary’s motherhood at the cross is further accentuated by the Greek of verse 26, which, strictly speaking, describes her as ‘the mother’, not ‘his mother’. Elucidating the implications of this passage, Origen comments that, like John, ‘everyone who has been perfected “no longer lives, but Christ lives in him,” and since “Christ lives” in him, it is said of him to Mary, “Behold your son,”, the Christ’ (Commentary on the Gospel of John 1.23; 1989: 38). In one sense, then, it is Mary who functions as the Daughter of Zion and becomes a mother without labour at the crucifixion. Though, in light of section 4.1, and the quotes from Chrysostom and Tertullian above, it is easy to see how Isa 54:1 has also been interpreted as pertaining to the church (e.g. see Cyprian of Carthage, Three Books of Testimonies Against the Jews 1.20; 1995: 512–513).

The thematic link between Mary, the Church, and the Daughter of Zion who receives many children finds liturgical expression in the Paschal Canon of the Orthodox Church, sung during the early hours of Easter Sunday. In response to the refrain, ‘Christ is risen from the dead’, a troparion for Ode 8 includes the following exhortation:

Lift your eyes around you, O Sion, and see, for behold they have come like beacons blazing forth with light divine from the West and from the North, from the East and from the Sea, your children come to you, blessing Christ in you to all the ages. (Louth 2002: 266)

Here, coloured by the language and themes of Isaiah 49:18–21, the Christians celebrating Christ’s resurrection are described as the children of Zion. The next troparion indicates that they are Zion’s children precisely because they have been baptized. This theme is picked up in the first stanza, or irmos, for Ode 9:

Shine, shine, O New Jerusalem! For the glory of the Lord has risen upon thee. Rejoice and be glad, O Zion; and thou, O pure Theotokos, exalt in the Resurrection of Him, Whom thou didst bear. (Holy Week and Pascha; Papadeas 1979: 456)

As well as being an allusion to Isaiah 60:1a (LXX), the words translated as ‘shine’ (phôtizou) are probably a reference to baptism, frequently called ‘enlightenment’ (phôtismos) by the Fathers and widely celebrated as part of the Easter Vigil (Louth 2002: 267).

Moreover, the structure and language of this irmos closely mirror that of Isa 52:1: ‘Awake, awake, put on your strength, O Zion! Put on your beautiful garments, O Jerusalem, the holy city; for the uncircumcised and the unclean shall enter you no more’. This parallel occurs because the Paschal Canon is interpreting baptism, through which one participates in the death of the Suffering Servant (Rom 6:3–11), as that which brings about the deliverance promised to Zion in Isaiah 52. This much is also confirmed by the irmos’ inclusion of Isa 60:1b, which describes the splendour of Zion after her liberation (‘the glory of the Lord has risen upon you’). Owing to baptism, then, Zion can be said to sing and cry aloud at her reception of many children (Isa 54:1), who are neither Jew nor Gentile (Gal 3:28; cf. Isa 52:1 above). On the one hand, the Paschal Canon clearly alludes to the Church as the Daughter of Zion. Yet, on the other, it is Mary who is unmistakably identified as the brilliant Jerusalem and the rejoicing Zion. This is made even clearer by the fact that the irmos and troparia for Ode 9 are sung in direct response to the words, ‘Honouring with hymns, let us magnify the Theotokos and Mother of the Light’, which renders her as their primary addressee (Holy Week and Pascha; Papadeas 1979: 455).

In maintaining the parallel between Mary and the church, the hymn affirms the inextricably linked nature of their roles. The latter’s motherhood is demanded by the birth of Christ from Mary, and the former’s motherhood to Christians is demanded by their rebirth through the church and her sacraments. Within the Orthodox tradition, the figures of Mary and the Church coinhere symbolically. At the core of this similitude, the Orthodox Church recognizes that, like the church, which works tirelessly to conceive and give birth to Christians, the Mother of God is experienced as one who constantly prays for the salvation of those on Earth (see section 8). One popular prayer to the Mother of God in the Byzantine period, which is still read privately by Orthodox Christians today, begins as follows:

O Virgin Lady Theotokos, you are the salvation of all Christians. As a Mother you have never ceased to care for us. In your affection and love for your children, you have lavished your bountiful gifts upon us, protecting us, sheltering us, guarding us, saving us from dangers, keeping us from temptations, and freeing us from a host of sins. (Prayer to the Theotokos X; Constas 2018: 38)

8.1 Through prayer

During the Liturgy, Orthodox Christians direct both words of praise and words of supplication towards Mary. One such entreaty, which is usually sung before the Trisagion hymn, reads:

Protection of Christians that cannot be put to shame, unfailing mediation with the Maker, do not despise the voices of us sinners as we pray; but, in your love, be quick to help us who cry out to you with faith: Hasten to intercede, make speed to entreat, O Mother of God, for you ever protect those who honour you. (The Divine Liturgy; 2011: 28)

In private devotion, Mary is similarly invoked for her intercessions. As with the above kontakion, the following prayer, which was probably composed in the ninth century, links Mary’s supplicatory power with the vantage point that her role as Theotokos affords her:

I know your Only-begotten Son is pleased by your prayers and requests. And He is bound under obligation to honour you, since He Himself said: ‘Honour your father and your mother’, and He will fulfil this obligation to you because He Himself loves His servants, and freely chose to live among them, and it was you who enabled Him to do this, by serving His ineffable birth. (Prayer to the Theotokos IV; Constas 2018: 15)

The earliest known prayer to Mary, which dates to the third or early fourth century, likewise beseeches Mary as the Theotokos. This prayer, still used liturgically in the Orthodox Church, is widely known by its Latin title, Sub tuum praesidium (under your protection). The prayer is as follows: ‘Beneath thy tender mercy we take refuge, Theotokos: despise not our supplications in distress: but deliver us from peril, for thou alone art pure and alone blessed’ (Lenten Triodion; 2002: 90). For a discussion concerning the hymn’s early provenance, see Shoemaker 2016: 68–73.

As with the above examples, Cunningham acknowledges that, ‘[s]ometimes liturgical texts may seem to blur the boundary between Mary as source of protection or as its mediator’ (2015: 150, original emphasis). Yet, she notes that, within the Orthodox tradition, most of these same liturgical texts consistently emphasize the christological basis for any power Mary is said to have. It is her role in the incarnation that grants her boldness before her Son.

8.2 Through icons

A central feature of the Orthodox Church’s identity is its iconography. One of the most popular subjects depicted in the Church’s icons is the Virgin Mary, usually with the Christ-child. One form of such an icon, the Mother of God Hodigitria, depicts Mary holding Christ in one arm (usually the left), and pointing to him with the hand of her other arm (Louth 2013: 119). Mary is the one who points to the way (hodos), to Christ, who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life (John 14:6). Other forms include the Virgin Pammakaristos (all-blessed), Eleousa (merciful), Galaktotrophousa (the nursing mother), and Glykophilousa (kissing, or embracing, the infant Christ). All of these icons explore visually Mary’s relationship to her Son, and highlight the tender bond they share. By looking at these icons, Orthodox Christians are reminded of the Virgin’s close proximity to Christ, as both his loving mother and humanity’s advocate. These images also serve to proclaim the reality of the incarnation by exhibiting Jesus within the dynamic of mother–son relationship.

Numerous icons of Mary are identified as ‘wonderworking icons’ by the Orthodox Church, which means that either miracles are reported to have occurred as a direct result of praying before the icon, or that the icon itself exhibits some kind of miracle (such as its painted figures moving, or myrrh beginning to stream from the eyes of those it depicts). One famous example of a wonderworking icon recorded in the Church’s tradition took place in the eighth century, during iconoclasm. The Greek vita (Life) of St John of Damascus narrates that after being falsely convicted by the Caliph of Damascus, John had his right hand cut off, which was then displayed publicly (Louth 2002: 17). John begged the Caliph to return his hand so that he could bury it. The Caliph granted this request, and immediately John took his hand and placed it before an icon of the Mother of God. Whilst praying, John fell asleep, and in a dream the Virgin appeared to him and reattached his hand. When he awoke, John discovered that his hand had been restored. Out of gratitude, John had a small silver hand made, which he placed onto the icon (Louth 2002: 19). This incident gave rise to a particular type of icon, called the Theotokos Tricherousis, or the ‘Mother of God with three hands’.

For a discussion of the prominent wonderworking icon that was housed in the church of the Theotokos of Blachernae in Constantinople during the eleventh century, see Pentcheva 2014: 145–163.

8.3 Through appearance

One of the earliest narratives of Mary appearing to intervene in contemporary events is found in the Life of St Gregory the Wonderworker, written by Gregory of Nyssa (d. 395) in the autumn of 380. The Nyssen remarks that amidst the tumult of heresy, his namesake (d. c. 270) received a divine revelation, granting him an exposition of the true faith. In expressing the content of this vision, the Nyssen writes that two figures appeared to Gregory. Whilst the first figure was male, the second ‘had the appearance of a woman, whose noble aspect far surpassed normal human beauty’ (trans. Gambero 1999: 93–94). Struck by fear, Gregory turned away, for ‘he did not know what to think of this apparition, which he could not bear to look upon with his eyes’. Then, the two figures guided him in the matters that were troubling him, and he ‘obtained an exact understanding of the doctrine of faith’. Towards the end of his vision, Gregory was able to discern who had appeared to him, as he

heard the one who had appeared in womanly form exhorting John the Evangelist to explain to the young man the mystery of the true [faith]. John, in his turn, declared that he was completely willing to please the Mother of the Lord even in this matter and that this was the one thing closest to his heart. (Gregory of Nyssa, Life of St Gregory the Wonderworker; Gambero 1999: 94).

For a more expansive treatment of recorded Marian apparitions within the Byzantine Orthodox tradition, see Cunningham 2021: 181–191.

8.4 Protectress of Constantinople

Over the course of its history as the capital city of the Byzantine Empire and an important hub of Orthodox Christianity, Constantinople repeatedly demonstrated its close affinity with the Mother of God; an affinity which, by at least the early seventh century, became intrinsic to its identity. This has led the Byzantine scholar, Cyril Mango, to dub the city as Theotokoupolis, or ‘City of the Mother of God’ (see Mango 2000).

In the fifth century, the church historian Sozomen (d. c. 450) relays that the Anastasis church in Constantinople, founded by Gregory of Nazianzus, ‘became one of the most conspicuous in the city, and is so now’ due to the countless miracles experienced at the site, ‘often for the relief of many diseases’ (Ecclesiastical History VII.5; 1995: 379). He states that this thaumaturgic power is attributed ‘to Mary, the Mother of God, the holy virgin, for she does manifest herself in this way’. It is also during the fifth century that two famous Marian relics, her robe and her belt, were brought from Jerusalem to the imperial capital, and were installed in the churches of Blachernae and Chalkoprateia respectively (Cunningham 2015: 135). Later on, these relics were often used in times of conflict to ward off invading forces. For example, during the Russian siege of Constantinople in 864, Mary’s robe was carried in procession along the city’s walls. Soon after the siege had ended in failure, the patriarch Photius (d. c. 893) wrote a homily in which he attributes this victory to the robe: ‘For immediately as the Virgin’s garment went round the walls, the barbarians gave up the siege and broke camp, while we were delivered from impending capture and were granted unexpected salvation’ (Homily IV, 4; 1958: 102–103).

One of the most significant events in establishing Constantinople as the city under the Virgin’s patronage occurred in the summer of 626. The Avars had allied themselves with the Persians and began to lay siege to Constantinople whilst the emperor Heraclius (d. 641) and a vast amount of his army were in Mesopotamia. A homily written shortly after the siege, attributed to Theodore Synkellos, tells of how during the siege the patriarch Sergius (d. 638) led a procession along the city’s western walls and placed icons of the Virgin with the Christ-child on the western doors of the city (Homily on the Siege of Constantinople XV, XVIII; 2007). All the while, reports Theodore, the Constantinopolitans joined him in prayer:

[T]he city begged in tears the Virgin by the words of the inspired mouth of the archpriest [Sergius]: ‘Save me, oh Lady, save me, because I will perish. Do not remain dumb, inactive, silent any longer, because I know that you are powerful’. (Homily XVI; Theodore Synkellos 2007)

For Theodore, the combined prayer of the people ‘was a weapon, sabre and shield for all the inhabitants of the city’ (Homily XIII). He also conveys that the patriarch was convinced the city would defeat its aggressors, ‘Because the Lord himself fights for us, and because the Virgin Theotokos will also be the champion for this city, if we ourselves turn towards them with all our heart and a devoted soul’ (Homily XIII). Eventually, after two failed naval attacks, the assailants withdrew all of their forces. For the city’s inhabitants, the victory was clearly the work of the Mother of God. According to Theodore’s homily, a chronicle and a panegyrical poem, ‘the Virgin Mary appeared on the walls of Constantinople at a critical moment of the final battle, brandishing her sword and causing terror to the besieging armies’ (Cunningham 2015: 138).

This event is the most likely cause for the composition of the second prooemium, or ‘prologue’, added to the Akathist Hymn. (For an argument in support of this view, see Peltomaa 2009.) In his introduction to The Lenten Triodion, Ware (2002: 55) even suggests that this prefatory kontakion was probably written by Patriarch Sergius himself. The kontakion is as follows:

To thee, our leader in battle and defender, O Theotokos, we thy city, delivered from calamity, offer hymns of victory and thanksgiving. Since thou art invincible in power, set us free from every peril, that we may cry to thee: Hail, Bride without bridegroom. (Lenten Triodion; 2002: 422–423)

When the Akathist Hymn is sung in Orthodox churches today, the word ‘city’ is replaced with ‘servants’. This alteration displays that, within the Orthodox tradition, there is no disjunction in using military language to describe Mary’s intercessory role on both a micro and macro level. This much is corroborated, for example, by an earlier part of the Akathist Hymn, which refers to the Virgin as the ‘unshaken fortress of the Church’, and the ‘unconquered rampart of the Kingdom’, through whom ‘the standards of victory are raised on high’ and ‘enemies are cast down’, providing healing of body and salvation of soul (Lenten Triodion; 2002: 436). And in 400, Severian of Gabala (d. c. 408) reassures his congregation of the strength of Mary’s intercessions, which he grounds in her being a ‘striving general’ against the demonic ‘enemies of truth’ (Homily on the Legislator 7; PG 56: 409–410). This broad application of military language highlights that, for Orthodox Christians, Mary is experienced as one who is perpetually ready to lend her aid, no matter the scale of the threat posed, be it spiritual or material.

9.1 Mary and silence

In their reflections on Mary, many contemporary Orthodox writers, such as Vladimir Lossky, Paul Evdokimov, Alexander Schmemann, and Kallistos Ware, have stressed the importance of the Virgin’s relationship to silence, or hesychia.

In his essay, ‘Tradition and Traditions’ (1974), Lossky sets out to articulate the character of tradition within the Orthodox Church, and its connection to the scriptures. To do this, he draws on Basil the Great’s (d. 379) distinction between dogma and kerygma. The former, observes Lossky, ‘has a sense contrary to that given to this term today’ (1974: 145). Rather than being the doctrinal definitions loudly proclaimed by the Church, dogmas are, according to Basil, the ‘unpublished and unwritten teachings [didaskalía], which our fathers guarded in silence, safe from meddling and petty curiosity’ (On the Holy Spirit, 27.66; 1980: 99). Unlike dogma, which is ‘observed in silence’, kerygma ‘is proclaimed to the world’ (27.66; 1980: 100). Following Basil, Lossky states that kerygma, which means ‘preaching’, ‘is always an open proclamation, whether it be a doctrinal definition, the official prescription of an observance, a canonical act, or public prayers of the Church’ (Lossky 1974: 145). After outlining this distinction, Lossky asserts that the scriptural narratives constituted the content of the early church’s kerygma, whilst the Church’s tradition was always maintained in silence. In his essay entitled Panagia, Lossky utilizes the above distinction to articulate Mary’s place in the Orthodox Church:

The Mother of God was never a theme of the public preaching of the apostles. Whilst Christ was preached on the housetops and proclaimed for all to know in a catechesis addressed to the whole universe, the mystery of the Mother of God was revealed only to those within the Church […]. [I]t is only through our experience of life in the Church that we can adhere to the unlimited devotion which the Church offers to the Mother of God; and the degree of our adherence will be the measure of the extent to which we belong to the Body of Christ. (Lossky 1974: 209–210)

Similarly, Schmemann argues that

Mary is not part of the Church’s kerygma, whose only content is Christ. She is the inner secret of the Church as communion with Christ. The Church preaches Christ, not Mary. But communion with Christ reveals Mary as the secret joy within the Church. (Schmemann 1995: 89)

Above all, Lossky and Schmemann emphasize that, for the Orthodox tradition, mariological statements are only uttered within the realm of silence; that is, in the Church’s liturgical life (which includes homilies, hymns, prayers, and icons). The liturgical media of the Orthodox Church, soaked in poetry and imagery, are seen to provide the best and most appropriate context in which to speak of the mysteries concerning the Mother of God. Out of the entire dogmatic tradition of the Orthodox Church, the only Marian content to receive direct conciliar affirmation is the epithet Theotokos. Yet, as mentioned in section 7, the primary impetus behind this title’s ratification was not strictly mariological, but christological. The Virgin is referred to as ‘All-Holy’ and ‘Ever-Virgin’ by subsequent councils, but as Louth (2018: 140) notes, these titles are taken for granted, as already accepted names for Mary, rather than being directly affirmed.

In 1854, the pope of the Roman Catholic Church, Pius IX, issued a papal bull called Ineffabilis Deus. In this document, the belief that Mary was untouched by original sin, known as the ‘Immaculate Conception’, was proclaimed as dogma (not in the Basilian sense outlined above). Likewise, in 1950, Pius XII released a papal bull which dogmatized the belief that Mary was assumed into heaven. For many Orthodox theologians, these dogmatic statements about Mary removed her from the realm of silence, changing the context in which she is spoken about from being liturgical to kerygmatic. By situating Mary in this alternate context, Schmemann argues that it has transformed Mariology into ‘a specific theological discipline, a separate intellectual set of problems’, instead of treating it as a dimension of the Church’s Christology, cosmology, ecclesiology, anthropology, and eschatology (Schmemann 1995: 59–60, 93). In summary of his position, Schmemann states:

the ‘cult’ of Mary is not an autonomous element in the rich tradition of the Church, an element that can be studied ‘in itself’ […]. It is not an object of faith, but its fruit; not a nota ecclesiae [mark of the Church], but the self-revelation of the Church; not even a doctrine, but the life and fragrance of Christian doctrine in us. (Schmemann 1995: 93)

9.2 Mary’s sinlessness

In the Service of the Trisagion for the Departed, Christ is implored thus:

Pardon, O God, as you are good and love mankind, every sin committed by him/her (them) in word or deed or thought, because there is none who will live and not sin, for you alone are without sin […]. (The Divine Liturgy; Lash 2011: 100–101)

This statement, and others like it, indicate that any mention of Mary’s sinlessness within the Orthodox tradition is not without qualification.

Recent Orthodox writers have often pointed to a discrepancy in the way Eastern and Western Christians have, generally speaking, conceptualized the fall and its consequences (e.g. Romanides 2002). This has led many Orthodox theologians to articulate a distinction between so-called ‘original sin’ (peccato originali) and ‘ancestral sin’ (propatorikón hamártēma). The former is used to designate the Western perspective, and the latter, the Eastern. It is noted that much of Western Christian thought has operated within the theological parameters set by Augustine of Hippo, who first coined the term ‘original sin’. Reflecting on the consequences of the fall, Augustine claimed that all humans are now born with a weakened and enfeebled will, which tends towards evil rather than good (Ware 2015: 217). This much is common to both original and ancestral sin. However, Augustine also claimed that in addition to inheriting Adam’s mortality and his tendency to sin, humanity inherited his guilt (reatus) (e.g. On Marriage and Concupiscence 1.28; Augustine of Hippo 1995: 275; see also Ware 2015: 218; Kelly 1968: 364; cf. Anselm of Canterbury, The Virgin Conception and Original Sin 23, 26, 27, 28; 1969: 202–203, 207–208, 210, in which Anselm sees the sin of Adam as being ontologically appropriated by all of humanity: as a result, he states that prior to baptism, all humans are equally condemned to an exclusion from the Kingdom of God). It is this final idea which Orthodox theologians identify as that which demarcates original sin from ancestral sin. In short, the notion of original sin holds that human wills are predisposed to prefer sin; it implicates all humans in the sin of Adam and attributes his guilty state to them. The notion of ancestral sin merely holds that humans inherit a proclivity to sin, but affirms that they are not bound by this, and so can still use their freedom for good.

From within this Augustinian paradigm, the affirmation that Mary is affected by original sin denotes that she shares in the inherited culpability of Adam, which renders her guilty and liable to divine punishment. To avoid this, prominent Latin theologians in the second millennium asserted that, prior to her conception of Christ, Mary was cleansed from original sin. Figures such as Bernard of Clairvaux (d. 1153), Peter Lombard (d. 1160), Bonaventure (d. 1274), and Thomas Aquinas (d. 1274) believed that this purification happened expressly after her conception in Anna’s womb (respectively: Letter XLV: To the Canons of Lyons, On the Conception of St. Mary; 1904: 300–308; Liber IV Sententiarum III. Dist. 3.; 1916: 557–562; Commentaria in quatuor libros sententiarum magistri Petri Lombardi III. Dist. 3. P. 1. Art. 1. Quaest 2; 1887: 66–67; Compendium of Theology 224; 1958: 263–266). Others, such as Eadmer of Canterbury (d. 1124) and John Duns Scotus (d. 1308), asserted that, from the moment of her conception, Mary had been untouched by original sin (Tractatus de conceptione; PL 159: 305A–306A; Opus oxoniense III. Dist 3; 2018: 79–89). Despite this discrepancy, the above writers were unanimous in their desire to remove original sin from Mary, which is indicative of their shared recognition that guilt (reatus) or culpability (culpa) is an intrinsic feature of the concept.

Eventually, the belief that Mary was exempt from original sin and ‘the stain of even original guilt [originalis culpae]’ from the instant of her conception prevailed, and was dogmatized by the Roman Catholic Church in 1854 (The Bull ‘Ineffabilis’ in Four Languages; 1868: 6–7). The doctrine of her ‘Immaculate Conception’ also entails that Mary was never plagued by temptations (Cunningham 2015: 181). This dogma has been met by a variety of responses from Orthodox thinkers.

The most common response sees the dogma as an unnecessary affirmation based on an erroneous view of sin. The Orthodox Church frequently refers to Mary as the Panagia, or ‘All-Holy One’, and calls her ‘immaculate’ or ‘spotless’ in its liturgical texts (Ware 2015: 252). Mary is regarded as committing no personal sins, yet, as a member of the human race, she is still affected by ancestral sin. However, even though she was afflicted by temptations, the Orthodox Church teaches that she overcame them freely and never succumbed. In other words, Mary was never liable for any sin (which includes the sin of Adam). Given this, from an Orthodox perspective, there is simply no need to pronounce her as being exempt from the fallen mode of human existence (either at her conception or afterwards). Moreover, the notion of ancestral sin explains why Orthodox Christians are comfortable in stating that Mary died, as death is seen as the inevitable consequence of fallen human nature, not the result of personal or inherited guilt. Like other humans, Mary still needed to be saved from death by Christ, the only One who did not have to die but freely chose to do so.

Another way of responding has been to assert that the immaculate conception denigrates the personal holiness and purity of the Virgin. Maximovitch questions that if Mary ‘was preserved by God’s grace from every impurity, and then by that grace was preserved from sin even after Her birth, then in what does Her merit consist?’ (2012: 59). If God placed her in a state incapable of sin, or even of temptation, Maximovitch argues that her virtues arise from no effort of her own. This means that any language used by the Church’s liturgical texts in praise of Mary’s spiritual prowess becomes meaningless. Similarly, George Gabriel contends that it downplays ‘the preparatory history and economy of the Old Testament’ (2000: 68). As mentioned in section 10.2, the Orthodox tradition views Mary’s birth as the culmination of a succession of righteous people. Through their efforts, the world was being prepared to harbour the one who could contain God. If Mary is simply gifted her holiness, it becomes difficult to see the relevance of these individuals for salvation history.

Additionally, it has been argued that the immaculate conception marginalizes Mary from the rest of humanity. If the Virgin is untouched by the effects of the fall which burden all other humans, then she is in some sense ontologically different from the rest of humanity. Yet, the Church has traditionally held that it is precisely Mary’s consubstantiality with other humans that secures Christ’s full humanity, and thus enables salvation (see section 7).