The Something About Mary (Luke 1:39-55)

Mary headlines a lot of things. Her name or title graces many important universities. Her image hangs in just about every art gallery in the western world. She inspired many of the greatest artists to their greatest artistic heights. According to Travel and Leisure, churches dedicated to her constitute 3 of the top 15 most visited religious sites on the planet – the Basilica of Lady of Guadalupe, in Mexico City, Notre Dame in Paris, and Our Lady of Lourdes, in Lourdes. Drive up the road in one direction away from the Servants of Christ, and you will find an apartment complex with a ten-foot-tall statue of Mary. Drive the other way, and you will quickly find a Mary themed billboard. In a reliquary in Roncesvalles, Spain, I even encountered a vial of liquid claiming to be her breast milk. She’s done pretty well for a working class teenaged mom from Nazareth.

In fact, her prominence, 2,000 years after her life, outstrips everyone from her time except for her more famous son. Countries around the world don’t build shrines to Herod. We know the names of the Roman Emperors who ruled during her life, and one even gets a prominent role in a play by Shakespeare. However, Caesar Augustus doesn’t have a billboard in my neighborhood or a shrine at a local apartment complex. He serves as no modern nation’s patron and inspires much fewer tattoos. The names of the vast majority of the empire’s rich and famous have recede from memory – left as the domain of scholars, obsessives, and archaeologist. How much do you know about Quirinius, the Governor of Syria?  Who served as Nazareth’s major? What General led the Legion in Judea and Galilee? Other than Caiaphas and Annas, who served as Chief Priest around that time? I certainly don’t know, but I do know Mary, a young bride, from a less than prominent branch of a priestly family, who found herself unexpectedly pregnant.

She stands as a fascinating historical outliner. History seldom remembers ordinary people. Ancient history, in particular, tends to forget anybody not male. I bet that most of us don’t know the names of many other working class girls from any point in ancient or modern history.

It does help that she gave birth to Jesus.

Mary serves as emblematic of the much grander things that God does by coming into the world as Christ. The Old Testament tells the story of God residing with a nation, and so, it spotlights that nation’s most prominent people. We get stories of rich landowners and traveling herdsmen, people growing up in palaces and being raised by Pharaohs, prophets, priests, kings, queens, generals, emperors, and governors. With arrival of Christ, the narrative shifts to God residing with all humanity, and we get much more human tales of pregnant teenagers, carpenters, fishermen, craftspeople, an adopted son of a carpenter and an unwed mother, a weirdly dressed, bug eating, wilderness prophet, and a rhetorically gifted low level Pharisee, who periodically had to run from the law. They interact with the powerful and often get killed by them, but consistently, our leading players come from humble, ordinary beginnings to drive home that God dwells now with all of us.

Luke’s Gospel and its sequel, Acts of the Apostles, do this most consistently. Mary gets the limelight – not her carpenter husband with royal blood. She even delivers the Gospel’s first major speech, the Magnificat. The shepherds share in the joy of Christ’s birth – not important astrologer priest from the East. Peter, the untrained fisherman, gives the solo sermon on Pentecost. A few of the rich and famous filter through, but they either play supporting rules or end up with villain status.

The New Testament consistently shows us ordinary people becoming extraordinary because of their faithfulness, and Mary establishes that archetype. We know little of her immediate family. She lives in the backwater of a backwater. The angel shows up, and with scant clarification, Mary takes on a dangerous mission from God with joy and confidence in her heart. Her story resonates across time and space because of that. Her openness and gladness in following God transformed her into an icon of the faith.

We should hear the implied message that we can do the same. God probably won’t book us for a virgin birth, but the lives of Mary and the rest of our New Testament cast demonstrates how far faithfulness can carry any of us. Regular people brought Jesus into the world, celebrated his birth, raised him, walked with him, learned from him, witnessed his resurrection, and shared that message with world. For hundreds of years, ordinary people spread the faith to ordinary people. I am unlikely to ever lead an army, rule a nation, become Chief Priest or Pope, or serve as God’s sole designated voice box. No Pharoah will engage with me, and I don’t feel led to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem. I’m just a dude. However, as a mere dude, I can listen for the voice of God telling me how to serve, rely on the Spirit of God to fill me with strength and talent, and step out to do what God directed. Mary’s just a lady with huge faith. Peter’s just a dude who would drop everything to follow. Joseph’s just a dude who listens to God. Paul’s just a dude who can write. With the Holy Spirit’s help, we can all be that kind of dude and/or lady.