Mary means “bitter”

Sermon by Pr. Craig Mueller on Mary, Mother of Our Lord + Sunday, August 17, 2025.

Do you know anyone named Mary? Any Marys here today? Or moms named Mary? Relatives named Mary? Friends named Mary? I had a great-grandmother Mary, born in 1882. Mary was the most popular name for girls from 1900 to 1946. And though still popular, it is not in the top 100 anymore.

 Do you know what your name means? I remember learning long ago that Craig originated from Scotland and means “rock” or “crag.”

It is the feast of Mary. Does anyone know what the name Mary means? Mary stems from the Hebrew Miryam and means “bitter.” What a contrast to the many sweet and even sentimental paintings of Mary, mother of Jesus.

 There are a lot of Marys in the Bible. And Mary was a common name among the lower class. Why do you think there were so many girls named Mary in biblical times? Including Moses’ sister, Miryam, and the three Marys from the Jesus story? 

Study history and you will find that Egyptians during the time of Moses, and Romans during the time of Jesus, raped girls as a method of war and subjugation. Parents mourned when a little girl was born. They knew their daughter’s life would be bitter.

Boaz Johnson is a professor of biblical studies at North Park seminary here in Chicago. Boaz grew up in the slums of New Delhi and has a heart for the hurting, the broken, and the abused. In fact, he has written a book called The Marys of the Bible: The Original #MeToo Movement. In India Dr. Johnson witnessed atrocities against girls and women. He sees the same abuse in ancient societies. And things are still as bitter. There’s the global horror of sexual trafficking of girls and women today. Johnson proposes that the Bible is the original #MeToo movement, with a counter-cultural ethic about justice for the poor, and the plight of abused women.

Mary, mother of Jesus, was an unwed mother which led others to view her with bitter suspicion. Mary was present at all the key events of Jesus’ life that we hear about in the gospels. Mothers know the deep gift it is to have children, but they also know the heartbreak as well. When their child faces addiction or illness or the setbacks that life can bring. But nothing can compare with a parent witnessing the death of a child. In war-torn areas like Gaza. When cancer strikes. In untimely accidents like the flooding in Texas this summer. It’s not supposed to be this way, burying a child. It’s as bitter as it gets. 

At Jesus’ crucifixion, the other disciples flee, save the three Marys and John, the beloved disciple. Amid the anguish and trauma of that scene, Jesus gives them to each other, symbolically forming a new community. “Woman, behold your son. Son, behold your mother.” And finally, after Jesus’ resurrection and ascension, Mary is gathered with the disciples in the upper room. They are devoting themselves to prayer. Following the devastating death of their beloved rabbi, they are waiting for what is next: the giving of the promised Holy Spirit. 

One heartbreaking image for Mary, is the pietá, the mother sorrowfully holding the dead body of her son. Mary is called the “Mother of Sorrows.” Mary, who experienced bitterness of a sword that pierced her heart, knows the bitterness that we bear.

One of my favorite images of Mary is the Black Madonna shown on the front of your bulletin. Though Black Madonnas are prominent in Europe, you can also find them in Africa and Latin America.

A renewed devotion to Mary is sometimes connected to “Mother” earth and the current climate crisis that is upon us. Not only does the Black Madonna suggest solidarity with Brown and Black sisters in the pursuit of justice, it is an image of what is sometimes called the divine feminine. This is a fierce God-energy that accompanies us in our own bitter times of darkness, grief, and loss.  

The moon is also connected to Mary and reminds us that our lives hold the opposites of creation and destruction, growth and decay, birth and death, light and dark, conscious and unconscious.

In Mary’s song, God lifts up the lowly and the poor. To those who have known life’s bitterness,  God promises to raise them up, to fill them with the good things of divine grace, and to be near them in their suffering. 

The feature story in last Sunday’s New York Times Magazine was titled “The 36 Who Fought Back.” In the early 1980s the Guatemalan government backed forces rounded up women and girls, looking for anyone cooperating with so-called subversives. During this civil war, 200,000 people were killed or disappeared, the majority of them Indigenous Mayans. 36 women survivors had not spoken of their brutal and bitter memories since then. Some as young as 12, they had been systematically raped and held captive for weeks.

Four decades later these women came together to prosecute their attackers for crimes against humanity, which the United Nations concluded was genocide. After years of silence, they found their voice. Eventually the judges found the patrollers guilty and ordered the state to pay reparations to the women. When it hard to see signs of hope and justice in our world today, here is a story of the lowly raised up and the powerful deposed.

With the faithful around the world and through time, we honor Mary as one who reveals for us God’s care for all those who have known bitter abuse, grief, pain, and loss of every kind. When you are the one whose heart is broken, God promises to hold you close. When you accompany others through bitter days, you become the face of Mother Mary for them. You become the face of Christ.  

As we will sing in a moment:

Mary, model of compassion,

Wounded by your offspring’s pain

When our hearts are torn by sorrow

Teach us how to love again.

SOURCES

Courtney Lee Hall, Black Madonna: A Womanist Look at Mary of Nazareth

Boaz Johnson, The Marys of the Bible: The Original #MeToo Movement