We don’t. But I get why it looks that way.
When you walk into an Orthodox church for the first time, you’ll see Mary everywhere. Icons of her holding Christ. Hymns about her sung over and over. People kissing her image. Prayers that sound like they’re asking her for things only God can give. If you grew up Baptist or Church of Christ here in Southeast Texas, this probably feels wrong. Maybe even idolatrous.
The confusion comes down to a word problem and a practice most Protestants haven’t seen before.
What We Mean by Worship
English has flattened something that used to have layers. When the King James Bible was translated, people said “your worship” to judges and mayors. They worshipped their spouse at weddings. The word just meant honor. But over four centuries, “worship” narrowed to mean only what you give to God.
Orthodox theology kept the old distinctions. We use latria for worship that belongs to God alone. That’s adoration of the Creator, the one who made everything from nothing. We use dulia for the honor we give to saints, and hyperdulia for the special honor we give Mary. She’s not divine. She’s not a fourth person of the Trinity. She’s the most faithful human being who ever lived, and we honor her accordingly.
Think of it like this. You respect your neighbor. You honor your grandmother. You worship God. Different words, different levels. Orthodox practice works the same way, even if we sometimes use “worship” in the old-fashioned sense that trips people up.
Why Mary Matters So Much
Here’s the thing: Mary isn’t just another nice Bible character. She’s the Theotokos, the God-bearer. That title got hammered out at the Third Ecumenical Council in 431, and it’s not sentimental. It’s Christology.
When the angel came to Mary, she said yes. That yes made the Incarnation possible. God didn’t force his way into the world. He asked, and she answered. From her flesh, Christ took his flesh. The second person of the Trinity became human in her womb. She nursed God. She taught God to walk.
If you downplay Mary, you end up downplaying the Incarnation. That’s not theoretical. It happened historically. Nestorius wanted to call her Christotokos (Christ-bearer) instead of Theotokos because he was squeamish about saying God was born. The Church said no. If Mary didn’t bear God himself, then Jesus is just a man with God riding along inside him, and we’re not saved.
So when we honor Mary, we’re protecting the truth about Christ. She’s the proof that he really became one of us.
What We’re Actually Doing
When you hear Orthodox Christians sing “Most Holy Theotokos, save us,” it sounds like prayer to God. It’s not. We’re asking her to pray for us, the same way you’d ask your pastor or your grandmother to pray for you. She’s alive in Christ. Death didn’t end her relationship with the Church. We’re all one body, and she’s the most faithful member of it.
The icon kissing probably looks the weirdest. But it’s like kissing a photograph of someone you love. You’re not kissing paper and ink. You’re expressing affection for the person. When we venerate Mary’s icon, we’re honoring her and asking her to bring our prayers to her son. She’s still doing what she did at the wedding in Cana: “Do whatever he tells you.”
Metropolitan Kallistos Ware put it plainly in The Orthodox Way: we don’t pray to Mary as if she’s a source of grace on her own. We ask her prayers because she’s close to Christ, and the prayers of the righteous accomplish much.
Where This Comes From
It’s not something we invented in the Middle Ages. The early Church called Mary blessed from the beginning. Elizabeth did it first: “Blessed are you among women.” Mary herself said, “From now on all generations will call me blessed.” We’re just doing what she predicted.
The Church Fathers saw her everywhere in the Old Testament. She’s the Ark of the Covenant, carrying God’s presence. She’s the burning bush, holding God without being consumed. She’s the closed gate in Ezekiel that only the Lord passes through. When you read Scripture through the Church’s eyes, Mary’s not a minor character. She’s woven through the whole story of salvation.
And the Reformers knew this, by the way. Luther kept praying the Hail Mary his whole life. Calvin affirmed her perpetual virginity. They didn’t go as far as we do, but they didn’t treat her like just another believer either.
How to Think About This
If you’re visiting St. Michael’s and all this feels strange, that’s okay. It should feel strange at first. You’re encountering something ancient that modern American Christianity mostly set aside.
But try thinking about it this way. Every Christian honors faithful people. We name churches after apostles. We read books by saints from centuries ago. We talk about being inspired by their examples. Mary is the first and greatest of those examples. She’s the one who said yes when everything depended on it.
We’re not worshipping her. We’re recognizing what God did through her and asking her to pray for us as we try to follow her example. She points to Christ. That’s what she’s always done. That’s what we’re doing when we honor her.
Come to a service and pay attention to the hymns about Mary. They’re really about the Incarnation. They’re about God becoming human, taking flesh from a virgin, entering the world through her obedience. When we magnify Mary, we’re magnifying what God accomplished. She’d be the first to tell you that.
