Let It Be -- Fourth Sunday of Advent

Luke 1:26-38

December 24, 2017

            “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 delivered will soon deliver you.”

            The first time I ever heard this song was on my now well-played Kathy Mattea Christmas Album. With all due respect to the group Pentatonix, Mattea’s version is my favorite. I admit that I did not give the larger theological implications of this song much thought. The question of whether or not Mary knew the fullness of her son’s identity was not an issue for me. When I listened to the lyrics, I just thought,

“This is such a pretty song, especially in Mattea’s rich alto. And the questions posed are interesting. They make me think both about this tiny baby and the larger scope of who he was and is.”

            However the question as to whether Mary knew who her son would be or not is a much larger issue, perhaps even controversy, than I realized. Every year about this time I see emphatic statements on social media, “Mary knew!” I think this goes beyond either loving or hating this song. I think it goes to a deeper theological question about Mary; who she was and the part she played in bringing Jesus into the world – literally and figuratively.

            So I am going to wade into the controversy and say definitively … that it is both! Mary knew! And Mary didn’t know! I don’t think she knew fully, at least, the scope of her son’s truth. So what did she know? First, she knew what Gabriel told her.

             Gabriel was sent to Mary by God, and he began this tremendous announcement by saying,

            “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you!”

            In what is perhaps the greatest understatement of all time, Luke wrote that Mary was

“much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.”

I too would have been perplexed … and baffled … and confounded … and terrified. Did Mary turn around to see if her heavenly visitor was addressing someone behind her? Did she pale and begin to shake when she realized he was speaking to her? Did she grow faint or bow low to the ground in terror? Perhaps she visibly changed, because Gabriel’s next words were,

            “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now you will conceive in your womb 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 Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”

            Mary did not, could not fathom how this would happen because she was a young girl, a virgin. The angel explained to her that through the power of the Holy Spirit she would conceive, and because the child she would carry was created this way, he would be called the “Son of God.”

            There you go; Mary knew. Gabriel told her that she was going to give birth, through the power of the Holy Spirit, to the Son of God. Her child would be great. He would be given the throne of his ancestor David. His kingdom would have no end. She, a lowly, poor, insignificant young girl, was favored by God. She would bear the Son of God into the world. Mary knew.

            I understand how important it is theologically and spiritually that Mary knew. Mary was not just an empty vessel or a mindless pawn that God used to fulfill God’s purposes. Mary was a flesh and blood person. She had a mind and a heart. She had a will. She had a voice and a conscience. Mary heard the angel’s words. She asked the angel questions, and she responded favorably. Mary knew she was going to have a baby, and that this baby was born of God and destined for an unimaginable greatness. She was favored by God and this baby would be God’s own. Mary knew.

            But Mary was a flesh and blood person, which meant that she had limits. She was finite. She could only grasp so much. Gabriel gave her a general outline of who her son would be. The fullness of his identity, his truth would be revealed over time. Mary was a flesh and blood human being. She knew she was favored by God. She knew she would have a child who was special, who was God’s child, but beyond that, could she truly see what was to come? Could she truly comprehend what being God’s child would mean? Could she envision how his life and her own would unfold? Did she know, really know what lay ahead? No. How could she? How could anyone? Mary was a limited, finite human being. In that moment when Gabriel came to her and gave her this amazing, overwhelming great news, I just cannot imagine that she could fully know everything that news meant. Mary did not know.

            Mary both knew and didn’t know. It seems to me that what’s really important, really necessary about this passage is not so much the depth or expanse of what she understood at that moment; what matters is how she responded.

Mary said, “Yes.”

As I said before, Mary was a flesh and blood human being with a mind, a heart, and will. We Presbyterians believe both in predestination and in free will. Free will suggests that Mary could have said, “No.” Think about that. Isn’t it possible that Mary could have said, “No?” She had a will. She had a mind. She was not just an empty vessel to be used by God. God became one of us because God values not just our souls but our flesh. Wouldn’t God have valued this young woman enough to hear her “No?”

            But that’s what makes this story so amazing, even beyond this visit from an angel. Mary said, “Yes.” And listen to her yes.

            “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”

            Here am I; those are the same opening words Isaiah spoke in response to God’s call.

            “Whom shall I send?” “Here am I, send me.”

            Mary’s response is no less a response to a calling from God. She said “Yes” to God’s call. She said “Yes” to God’s purposes. She may not have known fully what was to come, but then again do any of us know that when we answer God’s call? Mary knew enough. She knew enough. And what’s more important than how much she knew is how completely she trusted.

            She trusted God and she said, “Yes.” She trusted God and she said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Let it be with me.

            Here am I.

            It seems to me that our Roman Catholic sisters and brothers got it right when they elevated Mary. As a stalwart protestant, I am not advocating that we imitate Catholicism in our reverence of her. Yet I think we need to stop relegating her to this one Sunday of the year: the Annunciation, Mary’s Sunday. It seems to me that Mary is a role model for all of us when it comes to answering God’s call. She embodies what it means to trust God. She models what it means to step up, to say “Yes,” to show the courage to say, “Here am I; let it be with me.”

            Mary was a real person with a real spirit, a real will and mind and heart. She was young, she was poor, she was female, and those factors made her vulnerable. She would have been considered insignificant by the powers and principalities of that time and place. But her courage was as great as any warrior of her day or ours. Whatever Mary knew, whatever Mary didn’t know, she knew enough and she trusted more. She said, “Yes.” She said, “Here am I; let it be with me.” Let it be with me. Let it be.

            Let all of us, God’s children, say, “Alleluia!” Amen.