My Soul Magnifies the Lord!
Luke 1:26-56
I love answers. I relish solutions that arrive at after a good time of prayer or discernment. I savor clarity and I cherish certainty. And for a long time, I thought that this was what the life of faith required. I thought that being a good Christian meant knowing the correct response, reciting the right creed, remembering the details about who was a prophet during such and such an era or recalling the chronology of the human dance with God found in the scriptures. I lived under a cloud of perpetual guilt thinking that if I could just get there, if I could find my way to the destination that was “perfect faith,” all of my questions would be answered, all of my dilemmas would be solved, all of my wondering would rest at last in the home of absolute belief…
I wanted to be like Mary, with her arms raised high and a look of deep joy on her face. She is celebrated in stained glass as the pure perfect manifestation of true faith. She is glowing and lovely, cloaked in blue cloth. She is held up as the one we should all strive to emulate. She is heralded as a saint and a hero, called the first follower of Jesus because she praised God and believed before Jesus was even born. Now that is real faith.
But like much of what we find in the Bible, the way the story is told, is a bit different than what we read. The Mary we meet in the Gospel of Luke invites us to look again. We might praise her as the icon of answers and a woman of faith built on certainty. And yet did you notice her response after the angel appears? If you were looking for conviction, you might have missed it. After the angel comes to her, we read, that “She was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.” Mary, yes our Mary, the Mary was perplexed. I don’t remember hearing about this response. Mary did not start with clarity or certainty; she did not move right to joy and thanksgiving. Mary’s first response, according to the Gospel of Luke, was perplexity. We don’t read that she jumped up and down in praise or that she fell to her knees in prayer. We don’t read that Mary danced in circles or that she raised her voice in song. Mary was perplexed.
It is certainly understandable, after all, the angel Gabriel gives her no warning and as far as we know, he does not send word ahead of time preparing her for such a unique kind of greeting. He just gets right down to it and rocks her to her core with a startling hello: “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” She is immediately bewildered. That is all he had to say to confuse her. I haven’t tried it, but I am quite confident that offering such a greeting to even the most open heart would indeed lead to a look of puzzlement. “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” It smacks of a sort of buttering up, as if the angel is attempting to soften the blow of the real stuff that is to follow. And Gabriel, perhaps surprised by Mary’s look, goes on to tell her what is about to happen. As if such news would make her any less puzzled. “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.”
Gabriel’s announcement from heaven feels more like a rude interruption and in a time when women had little voice at all, this angel of the Lord seems to continue the order of the day. “Listen up girl, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son.” It’s not really a question and he doesn’t wait to see if this works for her or if it is a convenient time or if Mary might like to get back to him when she is more prepared. No, instead Gabriel just puts it all out there. And then Mary asks for a bit of clarification and Gabriel jumps right into the details: It’s the Holy Spirit, the power of the Most High, etc. etc. and then he says, “For nothing will be impossible with God.” It’s such a wonderful way to end his monologue. What can you say after an angel blasts on the scene offers you news that will change your life and then tilts his head and cracks a smile and says, “For nothing will be impossible with God.” Anyone would be rendered speechless.
We are led to believe that no time passed between the end of Gabriel’s speech and Mary’s response, but I would imagine that she might have asked for a moment to catch her breath. “Excuse me Gabriel can you give me a minute?” But however long it took, whether it was minutes or hours or even days, Mary turns to him and says, “Here am I, servant of the Lord, let it be with me according to your word.”
It is an interesting string of words. It is not quite a profession of faith and she doesn’t really say that she gets it or that she understands fully what this means for her and for the child that is to come. She doesn’t say any of that and so it is not clear whether she does comprehend the depth of the offer made to her. And yet it seems that she doesn’t have to, she still says, “Okay, I’m here. Count me in.”
It is a response clear enough to move ahead, but fluid enough to be ready for whatever it is that God has in mind. Without much direction or a map or a guide of any kind, she agrees to take the next step, to put one foot in front of the other and that is enough for Gabriel. That is all he needed to hear, because with that, he leaves Mary with nothing but news of an earth shattering nature.
We assume that by this time, Mary is more than just a bit overwhelmed. And so she does what any sensible woman would, she rushes off to the home of her dearest friend, her cousin Elizabeth. “You will never guess what I just heard.” But Elizabeth does not question her or wonder if Mary might be delusional or confused, Elizabeth says, “I knew it! Blessed are you and blessed is the baby that you are carrying!” And then Elizabeth goes on to say, “And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.” Bless you Mary for believing all of this.
It makes me think of those occasions where my mom would say things like, I trust you because you are responsible, and nothing made me act responsibly quicker than such a pronouncement. And I wonder if that is how it happened with Mary. As soon as Elizabeth tells her that she is blessed for believing, Mary believes and she offers what we can assume is a song of praise. “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”
Now more than ever, I want to be like Mary. I want to be able to say to God, “Here am I, servant of the Lord, let it be with me according to your word.” Mary might indeed be the best model of a faithful heart we have. But not because all of her questions were answered, all of her dilemmas were solved and all of her wondering had found rest at last in the home of absolute belief; she is the model of a faithful heart because she didn’t. She didn’t have the answers or resolution or clarity and as Martin Copenhaver says, “she seemed to know that you don’t start with the answers.” Faith does not begin with the right answers or certainty. The journey with God often begins with perplexity and yet we can offer a simple response, “Okay I’m here. Count me in.” And it is with this small declaration of faith that we might someday be able to sing with joy, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God…”