How Will I Know? Why Me?
Luke 1:26-38 Luke 1:26-38
Introduction: Mary Who?
There are so many paintings, sculptures, icons, tapestries and stained glass windows of this scene in which Mary is visited by the angel Gabriel. Mary’s prophetic song of praise, the Magnificat, which we heard in that last song, has been set to music so many times. So much has been imagined, presumed, projected, expected and concluded about Mary over the centuries, it’s hard to find the real Mary.
Mary is a multi-layered, even contradictory character, in the biblical story. We sometimes freeze her in time, as a young, meek and mild virgin. In all likelihood, she was shockingly young, by our standards, to be engaged to a man (probably much older than her), and to be a mother. Yet anyone who can speak the kinds of prophetic words of upside down kingdom justice that she spoke can’t be a shrinking violet. And anyone living poor and precariously under Roman rule, who travels such great distances while pregnant–first to visit her relative Elizabeth, and then to Bethlehem, must have a great deal of strength, stamina and courage.
We sometimes forget that Mary was also a grown woman, mother of other children besides Jesus, and eventually an older, wise woman, probably a grandmother. She was part of the Jesus movement, much acquainted with grief as she outlived Joseph, and witnessed the tortuous death of her son. She would live on to inspire and encourage Jesus’ followers after his death and resurrection.
Yet in the 2000+ years of church history, she is mostly limited to fit a narrow, idealized image. She is often depicted in sacred art with downcast eyes, appearing meek, mild, gentle, and submissive. Very rarely is she painted as visibly pregnant, as the church over the centuries got more and more uncomfortable with the human body and its sexuality. Mary was portrayed as ever more saintly, and holy, lifted up, with unattainable purity, “progressively glorified, in contrast to Eve” who was demonized and vilified” (25, Mary Malone, The Elephant in the Church). A “huge glow of holy purity surrounded Mary and Jesus, and their bodies were as unlike all other human bodies as possible.” (36, Malone).
So what do we make of Mary today? What about us in the Anabaptist/Mennonite tradition? Many of us grew up thinking that Catholics had somehow gone too far in their reverence and devotion to Mary–praying to her, ascribing miracles to her, making pilgrimages to shrines dedicated to her. We get uncomfortable with that kind of exaltation and adoration.
In 2018, when I was on a learning trip to Israel and Palestine, I witnessed some of this adoration. Everywhere we went in Galilee, the West Bank, and Jerusalem there are shrines, statues, artwork, and holy sites, dedicated to Mary. In Nazareth there is Mary’s well where she presumably went for water, and there is the Church of the Annunciation, dedicated to the story we are exploring today. At most places, a certain spot will be excavated down to the level of the first century, where, the tradition affirms, a significant event took place. So you often have to go down some steps to get to the most sacred spot. In Bethlehem, there is the Church of the Nativity, built over the stone grotto where Mary is presumed to have given birth to Jesus. The Church there today, a product of the Byzantine era, is elaborate and ornate. We lined up with other busloads of tourists, many on Christian pilgrimage tours. Several times while we waited in line, we were scolded to keep quiet. Clearly our sense of the holy moment needed some work!
As we approached the grotto, the place where you had to descend down narrow stone steps, it became clear that we would not have much time in the grotto. Tourists needed to keep moving. Finally it was my turn. I crouched down to look into this dimly lit rock cave, hoping to snap a quick picture, when a zealous tourist from another bus tour, basically elbowed me aside. She threw herself onto the ground, kissing the stones of the floor, praying in her language, and leaving a small gift, as many pilgrims do. Pushed aside and jostled along by the line of pilgrims, I never did get my picture of that sacred site. I left a little disappointed, but mostly I was just puzzled by the fervor and devotion of the other pilgrims. I didn’t quite grasp what all the fuss was about!
So amidst all the hype around Mary, can we find something more relatable at the heart of this story? Let’s look at the text in a bit more detail.
Exploring the Text
Gabriel begins with affirmation. Greetings, favoured one! (or beloved one, as we chose to read it). The Lord is with you” (Luke 1: 28). Mary is confused, disturbed, perplexed, baffled, thoroughly shaken. Not by the language of ‘God is with you’. That doesn’t scare her. That she knows from her life and the life of her people, from their stories, and songs and scripture. But what is troubling is the idea that she is singled out as one especially favoured by God. Let’s face it, she is an unlikely choice here. A poor, young woman in an occupied land. Her favoured status is not something she has earned or can prove in any way. This is simply God’s grace-filled disposition toward her. She is created in the very image and likeness of God. Her identity is secure. She is beloved. She is whole. She is enough. She is good.
Her belovedness comes first. Gabriel repeats it. Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favour with God (Luke 1:30). Only then does Gabriel offer the invitation. And now, you will conceive…and bear a son, and 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 Jacobs forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end (Luke 1: 31-33).
This is a powerful invitation. A powerful hope. But, as Mary Schertz writes in her Luke commentary, Mary must also know from the history of her people that “Those who are singled out by God are not always “favoured” in ways that are understandable [or even desirable]…She stands in a long line of those favoured by God, whose lives were exciting…but hardly easy” (53, Mary Schertz, Believers Church Bible Commentary: Luke). Let’s not kid ourselves, this is a big ask. A pregnancy for Mary will be awkward, to explain. It will be both difficult and dangerous. She risks shame, serious social, even life-threatening consequences. And so she asks a big question, How can this be? (Luke 1:34). She might also ask, why me?
Gabriel responds with an explanation. The Holy Spirit will fill you, and the power of the Most HIgh will transform you…for nothing is impossible with God (Luke 1: 35, 37). This is Epiphany language. This is divine encounter language. “This is the miracle of the Spirit’s presence” (54, Schertz) for nothing is impossible with God.
As Daryl and I met to prepare for this service, we wondered if this Annunciation story is too neat and too easy. Luke, the writer, moves so smoothly from the greeting by the angel Gabriel to the invitation to bear God’s son, and then to Mary’s “yes”. It couldn’t have been that easy! Maybe Mary pondered this for a long time, and we just don’t have that detail in the writing. Maybe Gabriel tried many other people, and got a whole bunch of blank stares or “no’s” before extending the invitation to Mary. So how does Mary get to “yes”?
As I reflected on this text, what stood out for me were Gabriel’s words, do not be afraid, Mary for you have found favour with God (Luke 1: 30), right at the heart of this story. Several other times in the story of Jesus’ birth this instruction comes up. Do not be afraid. – Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear a son (Luke 1:13). Joseph…do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife (Matthew 1: 20), and to the shepherds, do not be afraid; for see–I am bringing you good news of great joy (Luke 2: 10). It is a key instruction in the bigger story of Jesus’ birth. It is a key instruction all over the biblical story.
Mary has a lot to fear. As a young woman, there are restrictions and expectations that limit her. She is among the most vulnerable, least powerful, and one whose voice will rarely be heard, let alone respected. Living under the occupation of Rome, her life is precarious. Luke sets the birth narrative at a time of political disturbance–the census taking–which in the ancient world was primarily for taxation, a reminder that the people lived in vulnerable, risky times.
Somehow, Mary interprets what is happening to her not as a dilemma but as a blessing and an act of mercy from God! If we read on from our text this morning we come to the Magnificat–Mary’s prophetic voice, her response. My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour. For God has looked with favour on my lowliness…for the Mighty One has done great things for me (Luke 1: 47-49). These first stanzas are intensely personal; her private joy. They are about God’s mercy to her. From there she expresses the vision of what this means beyond her personal life. Now what God is doing becomes communal joy. God has brought down the powerful…and lifted up the lowly…has filled the hungry with good things…has helped Israel in remembrance of God’s mercy according to the promise God made to their ancestors (Luke 1: 52-55).
Mary would have every reason to see this pregnancy as a dilemma. She would have every reason to be afraid. Even today an unexpected pregnancy is a dilemma. Much more so in her time, when she was considered the property of her father until she became the property of her husband. So where does her “yes” come from? Where does she find the hope and courage to say “yes”? To see this pregnancy as a blessing?
“Mary’s courage, strength of purpose, and clarity of conviction are not of the Christmas-card variety. There is no sentimentality here. Mary is declaring God her Saviour – personally–against all appearances. This is faith at its most raw and costly” (Schertz, 56).
How is it that she gets to a place of saying “yes”? Mary is, before all else, beloved. She is able to accept and own her belovedness; to know that she is enough; to know that she already bears God’s image and likeness, and that is what equips her to bear God’s love, God’s Word, God’s Son. Despite all the evidence to the contrary; all the things she most rightly should fear, Mary chooses to live from a place of belovedness rather than a place of fear. She chooses to trust and hope in the mercy and justice of God rather than allowing fear to overwhelm her, define her, immobilize her or control her. She trusts that the God who created her beloved, will see her through this mission she has been called to.
Many of you will remember the Disney Pixar movie Inside Out from a few years ago. It’s a clever, heartwarming portrayal of human psychology. We get an inside view of the main character, 11 year old Riley, and the workings of her emotions. We witness the struggles that go on between the different parts of her, portrayed by the characters: Joy, Sadness, Anger, Fear and Disgust, all trying to have their turn at the control panel of her mind, as she goes through a major upheaval in her life. (A sequel is coming out that will bring in a whole host of new emotions as Riley hits puberty! Can’t wait to see that!).
The main idea of Inside Out is that Joy can’t run the control panel all the time. It is unrealistic. Joy can’t suppress Sadness or Fear. Riley needs to experience the full spectrum of her emotions. They are all an essential part of her. When she learns to embrace, rather than suppress tough emotions, or let them run the show, she is better able to cope with the difficult changes in her life, and open herself up to experience the love of her family.
I would say the same for Mary. She had to acknowledge fear but not let it define who she is (identity) or control what she does (behaviour). Mary is able to live with fear, because she trusts the affirmation that she is beloved. In the New Testament John writes a great deal about love, affirming that God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them (1 John 4: 16b), so then, there is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear (1 John 4:18). In other words, fear gets in the way of us being able to fully experience love–to be able to give and receive love. I like how Eugene Peterson words it: “since fear is crippling, a fearful life—fear of death, fear of judgement—is one not yet fully formed in love” (1 John 4: 18, The Message).
Mary can live with calm, confidence, curiosity and courage knowing that love, fully formed in her, transforms the fear that could otherwise paralyse her.
Application
God invites all of us, like Mary, to become Godbearers–persons who by the power of the Holy Spirit smuggle Jesus into the world through our own lives,” as one book puts it (48, Kenda Creasy Dean and Ron Foster, The Godbearing Life).
Not to be holy, saintly, pure, unattainable, perfect Godbearers, but real people from real places and real experiences. Mary asks, how can this be? Why me? And so do we. “That is how most of us greet God’s call to us. Impossible. Out of the question. There is just no way” (47, Dean and Foster). At this point, most of us want to turn tail and run for cover. Mary has lots to fear and so do we. We worry about the future. We fret over things past and how they might yet affect us. Fear, and its varying levels: apprehension, uneasiness, anxiety, panic, can start to shape our identity. We can easily begin to live from a place of fear. It takes over our thoughts. It interferes with our ability to function. It distorts our sense of ourselves and what we can do. We freeze. We find it hard to make decisions. We second guess ourselves. We fear that we are not enough. We fear that we are not capable of whatever God is asking of us. We fear that we are too old, or too young, too broken, too damaged, too incomplete, too inexperienced or have too many doubts. Remember the list of reasons Moses came up with when he tried to deflect God’s call?
So how can we get past our fears and our insecurities? In order to be God bearers we need to know that we are beloved.
Godbearing ministry begins with a conscious yes to God. Saying yes to God means saying yes to God’s grace-filled disposition toward us. And when we say yes, the Holy Spirit “fills us, overshadows us, transforms us by forming Jesus within us, restoring us to the image in whose likeness we were created, [so that we can be] participants in God’s restoration of the [divine image] in every human being…it is by grace that we engage in Godbearing ministry; by grace that somehow God uses us to ‘get through’…God dwells in our soul and works patiently and persistently to form Christ within us so that we can bear Christ into the world” (50-51, Dean and Foster). Saying yes to God is perhaps the most courageous thing we can do. It is not for the faint of heart. What awaits us is transformation. We sing in one of songs, VT 540, Will You Come and Follow Me and never be the same. That is what we are talking about.
I think, in many ways, church tradition has done a disservice to Mary, either making her gentle, meek and mild, or making her pure, saintly and unattainable. What if she was simply a character we can relate to? Someone real who knew pain, who knew fear and yet trusted her belovedness more? Maybe then she can be a role model for how to handle our encounters with God.
Aren’t there annunciations of one sort or another in most lives? asks Marlene Kropf, in a recent Canadian Mennonite article (CM, November 17, 2023, 20-21). Let’s consider for a moment, our own annunciations. “When has the Spirit touched us and awakened our hearts to God’s dreams for the world?” What annunciation are we hearing today? How do we respond? Do we turn tail and run in fear? Or do we trust our own belovedness, like Mary, and say ‘yes’?