Advent 4

Almost 40 years ago, songwriter Mark Lowry scribbled down some lyrics for a Christmas song about Mary, the mother of Jesus. After all, people were singing carols set in the bleak midwinter about herald angels singing from the realms of glory while shepherds watched their flocks by night, all seated on the ground. And, of course, about sweet, little Jesus born on this silent night. Few carols paid homage to the teenage girl who had a baby 2,000 years ago in a manger in the little town of Bethlehem.

The song that Lowry wrote reached Number 6 on CCM Magazine’s Adult Contemporary Chart. His song consists of a series of questions.

Mary, did you know that your baby boy will one day walk on water?
Mary, did you know that your baby boy will save our sons and daughters?
Did you know that your baby boy has come to make you new?
This child that you’ve delivered will soon deliver you?

Let’s answer Lowry’s question. Did Mary know?

No, Mary didn’t know.

She was a young girl, probably mid-teens. She had a boyfriend, and they were engaged. But she and Joseph had never been intimate. They didn’t live together (Matthew 1:18). They had not known each other in the biblical sense. The Bible is emphatic about this. Twice in today’s Gospel Mary is described as a virgin, and she throws up an argument against Gabriel, the angelic messenger, saying his proposal is absurd. “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” (v. 34).

Of the four gospel writers, leave it to a doctor (Luke) to violate doctor/patient confidentiality protocols and spill the beans. She was a virgin — then she wasn’t. Matthew adds to the scandal by noting that when Joseph realized that his gal evidently had a “cheatin’ heart,” he was inclined “to dismiss her quietly” rather than “expose her to public disgrace” (Matthew 1:19).

But after a conversation with an unspecified “angel of the Lord,” he up and married her and then waited for the blessed event covered so dramatically in Dr. Luke’s next chapter. Joseph is a good guy, but let’s face it, he doesn’t get much ink in the New Testament, and when he does, everyone knows he’s not really Joseph. He’s Mr. Mary.

So this is the Mary of the gospel reading today, who — if we believe Leonardo Da Vinci’s version of the annunciation — is sitting alfresco in the Florentine courtyard of her palace, nestled in a Tuscan forested background. She is seated at a lectern with the Hebrew Scriptures before her. She greets with an upraised hand the angel Gabriel, who bows toward the maiden, proffering a lily.

Mary and Gabriel have a brief conversation in which the angel lets her in on a shocking and disturbing secret, and now the question can again be asked: What did Mary know?

Well, Mary didn’t know what was going on. Sometimes, we don’t either.

Have you ever been in a huge mall or museum looking at a “You Are Here” sign, but you still don’t know where you are? Even if you do know where you are, thanks to the sign, you still might not be clear on where you’re going or how to get there.

This describes Mary as she listens to Gabriel.

All she knew was that an angel had just told her she was going to have a baby. She didn’t know why. She certainly didn’t know how since, as she told Gabriel, she’d never slept with anyone.

We, too, are often confused as to why we are in our present predicaments. We ask ourselves, “How long am I going to be working at this dead-end job?” Or, “Why am I still in this relationship?” Or, “When am I going to figure out what to do with my life?”

Often, like Mary, we’re clueless.

The good news is that it’s alright.

God sometimes has this annoying habit of dealing with us on a “need to know” basis. Sometimes we don’t need to know what lies ahead — at least not yet. One of the hard things about being a follower of Jesus is that, often, there’s a sort of built-in ambiguity. But it’s okay. We live with uncertainty.

Mary may have suspected that uncertainty would be the new normal as she moved ahead from this watershed moment.

            Mary didn’t know that she was favored. Sometimes we forget this, too.

Verse 48 reminds us of her favored status: “For he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.”

The Bible doesn’t tell us why, specifically, Mary was chosen for this role from among scores of other possible candidates. Mary did have a heart that was inclined toward God. She was a girl with a remarkable willingness to risk everything, even her life, to comply with the will of God. “Here am I, the servant of the Lord. Let it be with me according to your word,” she said (v. 38).

Yet Mary is not favored because of her perfection or unwavering faith, but rather because of the faithfulness of God. She is invited into God’s plan not because of her achievements, status or goodness, but rather because God chose to lift up the lowly (Luke 1:52).

Mary had the good sense to see the hand of God in what was happening to her. She didn’t bemoan her circumstances; she rejoiced in them, knowing that what looked like a calamity to others, was actually a sign that God was paying attention to her!

Mary didn’t know how she was going to suffer. She didn’t know that:

• from this point on, her house would be a mess.
• her son would be brilliant.
• there would be an endless stream of questions and, even worse, answers.
• the question of which parent Jesus looks like would be an awkward one.
• the night before delivery was the last night in a month of Sabbaths that she’d get any sleep.
• the laundry never ends; and
• so many friends and aunties would tell her what the child should or shouldn’t eat.

But Mary did know that she was a servant of the Lord.

In those words (v. 38), we learn much about a woman who is otherwise something of an enigma.

As one scholar has noted: “The Bible is over 90 percent male-oriented. Of 1,426 names in the Bible only 111 names are women’s. … Mary of Nazareth, however, is among the women most mentioned in the Bible, that is, in the New Testament. She is an exception to the rule and almost for that reason an exceptional woman.”

She is a woman, which meant in those days she was a second-class citizen. She and her people were subjects of imperial Rome. She was a Jewish woman, the daughter of Joachim and Anna, and therefore subject to Torah law and regulations. As a young girl she would have heard the Hebrew Scriptures as a matter of course. Clearly, when she was confronted by the angel Gabriel, she had a heart that was disposed to spiritual things.

Mary was a ponderer, twice told that she “kept all these things, pondering them in her heart” (Luke 2:19, 51). It’s possible that she knew how to read. She thought about her experiences long and deeply — and her Magnificat shows that she had deep insight into what God was doing in her.

When she met the angel, she was already of marriageable age. In fact, a marriage was in the works. So, although this news must have been shocking, Mary’s faith in God was deep.

Mary knew she could trust in God, that this pregnancy was possibly going to be scandalous, and that her son was going to be someone special.But she didn’t have clarity. Gabriel told her, “You will name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end” (Luke 1:31-33). But what did all this mean?

That she had cause for praise (vv. 46-47).

That “the Mighty One” had done great things for her (v. 49).

And so much more. In fact, today’s Gospel is a review of the many things Mary knew.

            This is why the Magnificat leads us to pose the question as to what we know.

• Can we say that we are servants of God?
• Can we, like Mary, trust in God?
• Do we have cause to praise God?
• Have we experienced his mercy, which “is for those who fear him from generation to generation”?

These are questions which, like Mary, we might ponder in our hearts.