Humanity Shines Brightest in Its Queen

Feast of the Queenship of the Blessed Virgin Mary

The Cathedral of Mary Our Queen, Baltimore, MD

This Cathedral stands in stark contrast with the world that surrounds it. Erected in the mid-1950s, it came into the world as one untimely born. Her limestone walls and towers rise in neo-Gothic fashion above the late-Victorian homes in the brick neighborhood below. Yet, however wide the disparity between this Cathedral and its environs, the greater difference is found not in architecture but in meaning: this Cathedral stands in honor of a woman in the midst of a world that considers that woman the very antithesis of what a woman ought to be.

On the surface it may not appear such. This Cathedral acclaims Mary Queen of heaven and earth. There could be no greater title bestowed upon a woman; but this woman is lauded not for her self-determination and ambition but for her servitude and submission. She is rewarded to the highest degree for being that which woman ought not be. Even more, for her obedience to a will other than her own, she is hailed the fairest honor of the human race.¹ Seen thus, she is not only the enemy of women but even the very enemy of humanity itself. How the world despises its Queen! And yet this Cathedral dedicated to her honor praises her none the less.

The reason for this unwavering praise is the foundation on which this Cathedral is built. Her limestone is laid first and foremost upon the cornerstone of Jesus Christ, the living stone, rejected by human beings but chosen and precious in the sight of God. This rejected stone is the cornerstone of our faith. For Christ is God’s full revelation. In him we learn the true nature and purpose of all things. Thus do the walls of this Cathedral rise without fear of the surrounding world toppling them over. All for which they stand—all which they praise—rests upon the certainty of the truth revealed in Jesus Christ.

This Cathedral was opened and dedicated in the fall of 1959 in the wake of John XXIII’s announcement of the Second Vatican Council earlier that year. Pope John and the Council Fathers were not ignorant of the crisis brewing in the Church and in the world. Realizing that humanity had lost sense of what it means to be human, the Council’s final Constitution, Gaudium et Spes, included this famous teaching: Christ… fully reveals man to himself and makes his supreme calling clear.² The architects of this Cathedral already anticipated this teaching by making the cross over the altar the sole focal point of the church. This entire edifice points to Christ. For only in Christ, fully God and fully man, do we know who God is, who we are, and what, by him, we are capable to become.

Our vision of Christ and hence our vision of ourselves is obscured and distorted by sin. We see our existence as a fight for meaning. We are not anything until we have made ourselves something. Self-determination and self-liberation are our highest calling; and servitude and submission are the captivity from which we must break ourselves free. But to live this way is to live in darkness. Our fight for freedom pushes others into chains; and this makes the world only a valley of death and a land of gloom.

Yet we who know Christ have seen a great light. Upon those with faith who [dwell] in the land of gloom a light has shone. We who know Christ know who we are and why we were made. He tells us that we are called to become a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people. Our identity and meaning are given not made. We are God’s own. God created us as we are and calls us into what we are to become. His call leaves space for our freedom to cooperate; but rejecting the call can only diminish our humanity and deprive us of who we are meant to be.   

When the call came to Mary of Nazareth, she accepted in perfect freedom the meaning and purpose of her life that the Lord revealed to her. As she was preserved from the first moment of her existence from sin, nothing impure obscured her vision of God and herself. Although the details may have remained shrouded in mystery, she knew that her life existed to be God’s own; and as God’s own, there was only one response she could make to his will: May it be done to me according to your word. Those words are not the desperate cry of a woman held in chains and deprived of her humanity. Those words are the triumph of a woman who found her humanity in the Lord who revealed her to herself. Only she who was fully herself could be said to be truly free.

We, though sinners, find our humanity in no other way. As Mary emptied herself, she found herself. The same must be true for us. And all the more so. For, unlike her, we need to contend with the pull to make our own meaning. Who we are and what we are to be are revealed to us by Christ. And in the Church we find the grace necessary to set aside the need to put ourselves at the center of our ego-drama and to instead find ourselves at the center of God’s theo-drama. Finding our identity, our role, and our destiny there, we say along with Mary: May it be done to me. And in response God brings his work to perfection in us, despite our sin, for nothing will be impossible for God.

In limestone this Cathedral stands as testimony to the truth that Christ reveals humanity to itself and makes its supreme calling clear. This Cathedral dedicated to Our Queen’s honor raises our eyes to see the fulfillment of humanity’s nature and vocation in Mary’s Yes. And it hopes the same for all humanity following her example and striving under her intercession. This Cathedral’s walls must weather the storms of the world that beat upon it. The stones with which she is built must stand firm and not be swayed by anything that suggests otherwise.

Yet for however strong the walls of this Cathedral may be, her integrity depends on stones less sturdy and more easily eroded. For this Cathedral is only as strong as the living stones with which this spiritual house is made. Whether this Cathedral stands for another 60 years or even another day will not matter if we, the living stones, topple with the wind. Like this Cathedral we need to be built upon the firm foundation that is Christ; and that requires that we obey the word that he speaks about ourselves and our destiny. Such obedience is a stumbling block to the world that sees only a threat to its freedom. But we have the confidence that whoever believes in [this stone] shall not be put to shame; and thus, may we stand more strongly than these walls in testimony to the truth. The truth of ourselves and our call. The truth that sets us free.  

We need to resist the sway of a world that tells us that obedience is the enemy of freedom. We need to be convinced that Mary is the highest honor of our race: that she reigns as Queen over all because she put her all at the service of the one who called her. In her, the light of Christ shines the brightest and reveals what humanity should be; and through her, Christ will not fail to give the grace necessary to become what we should be. We need only make her Yes our own, let Christ reveal our identity and destiny, and make space for him to bring us to our perfection. 

This Cathedral stands in testimony that Christ is faithful to his promises, and that as he fulfilled his Mother’s humanity through her obedience, he promises to do the same for us through our imitation of her. May we call upon her intercession today, on this Cathedral’s patronal feast, and every day of our lives and say: Pray for us, most holy Mother of God, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ!

Preached at the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen, on the observance of the Patronal Solemnity of the Queenship of Mary on August 20-21, 2022.

1. Cf. Jud. 15:9.

2. Vatican II, Gaudium et Spes, 22.