Mary, Mother of God


            38Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her. (Luke 1:38)

            I wonder about Mary. I’ve read fictionalized versions of the Mary’s life story, including The Handmaid and the Carpenter by Elizabeth Berg. I’ve also read Bible study narrative about Mary, like The Women of Christmas by Liz Curtis Higgs. In all the stories, the same three things seem to be true: Mary was young, Mary was chosen, and Mary was willing.
            Mary, Theotokos, literally Greek for, “Mother of God.” Was Mary strong? Was Mary beautiful? Who’s to say? Perhaps, in her young teenage years, she had as many pimples as I did. Of all the things we know about Mary – and even that is precious little – we know she was young, she was chosen, and she was willing.
            Presbyterians don’t make a habit of talking about Mary. At Easter time we might mention that she witnessed the death of her firstborn son on a cross. At Christmas, we get as much of her story as we can. When I step into a Catholic church and am greeted by statues or painted images of Mary, I can’t help but notice her. Protestants don’t have feasts for Mary. We don’t pray to Mary to intercede on our behalf. We call her “blessed of women” but her picture isn’t up on the walls (in most of our churches, anyway). The only time our Presbyterian Book of Confessions mentions Mary, it’s to remind us that she was not just a virgin and an “ever virgin” (Second Helvetic Confession, 5.064). In some ways I'm actually jealous of my Catholic friends because Mary seems like a comforting presence to have in my corner.
I don’t know what it would be like to be Mary. What would it be like to be a young, engaged woman and be visited by an angel of the Lord, who tells you that despite the fact that you’ve never known a man in the biblical sense, you’re going to have a baby? I don’t know what it would be like to be Mary, experiencing the pain of having to live in a community that could have easily stoned her for being pregnant outside of marriage. Even Joseph had a plan to divorce her quietly, a plan for which he is often lauded and called a “righteous man.”
What would it be like to have to look your fiancé in the eye and know you’re not carrying his child, but the child of Almighty God? And I wonder what it would be like to carry that child for nine months, all the while keeping the angel’s haunting words in my heart: “For nothing will be impossible with God” (Luke 1:37).
            Perhaps some are even a little jealous of Mary, because she was not trying to have a baby. She wasn’t looking at an empty room in her house and longing for the day to come when she could turn it into a nursery. Did she go to her friends’ baby showers and feel both joy for her friends and pangs of jealousy, wishing it could be her turn?
            I also wonder if God was deliberate in granting her cousin Elizabeth’s wish for a baby so it was easier to share Mary’s joy when Mary came to stay with her. I’ve heard it said the devil is in the details; I think it should instead say, “God is in the details.”
In The Women of Christmas, Liz Curtis Higgs writes, “What made Mary worthy of her calling was not her virtue; it was God’s virtue. That’s why her story gives every woman a generous measure of hope. God takes us as we are and uses us as he will, for our good and for his glory.” That does give me pause, because maybe there wasn’t anything really remarkable about Mary. But there is something incredibly remarkable about God. Even Mary laid next to her newborn and marveled at him. She marveled when the shepherds came and celebrated his birth. She treasured all these things in her heart, whether the visits were from temple residents like Simeon and Anna or worldly people like the magi. How often do we marvel at Jesus?
Christmas reminds me to marvel. Christmas reminds me to step back and let God be God. Mary’s story reminds me to marvel and to keep wondering the things that I wonder. In this season of Christmas, may you find space to marvel and wonder. May Mary remind you that God will meet you where you are as you are, and you are enough. You are loved.
Hope you had a Merry Christmas! And have a Happy (and Safe!) New Year!

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