Mary Did Know
Bible passages: Luke 1:26-38 and Luke 2:21-35
I ran across a Twitter fight last week. One side complained about the song, Mary Did You Know? The argument went something like, “Hello, have you ever read the book of Luke? Of course she knew!” The other side seemed to suggest lightening up a bit, and letting the song speak to the emotional side of Mary’s story. The whole thing took me back to Luke, wondering, “What did Mary know and when did she know it?”
Mary received information about Jesus from the angel Gabriel before she became pregnant. She also received information about Jesus from Simeon, a devout and elderly man who prophesied about Jesus when Mary and Joseph brought Jesus to be circumcised at 8 days old. So, when she received that information from the angel and from the old man, what was it? What did she know before and just after Jesus came? Let’s take a look.
| Gabriel’s announcement (Lk. 1:26-38) | Simeon’s prophecy (Lk. 2:21-35) |
| Mary had God’s favor. | In Jesus, Simeon saw God’s salvation, promised to all people. |
| God was with Mary. | Jesus was appointed for the rise and fall of many in Israel. |
| Mary would have a son, though she was a virgin, and she was to name Him Jesus. | Jesus would be opposed. |
| Jesus would be great. | A sword would pierce Mary’s soul. |
| Jesus would be called Son of the Most High. | |
| Jesus would have the throne of King David and reign over Israel. | |
| Jesus’ kingdom would have no end. | |
| Because of His miraculous conception, Jesus would be the Son of God. | |
| Elizabeth was already pregnant. | |
| Nothing would be impossible with God. |
For the sake of our reflection today, what if we consider just the last thing on each list: Nothing would be impossible with God, and a sword would pierce Mary’s own soul. Mary knew that she would be blessed among women, that she would be the mother of the Messiah, though she was a virgin, because nothing would impossible for God. She also knew that a sword was going to pierce her own soul, whatever that might have meant. Think about all the times those words might have echoed in her mind and heart, about how the liturgy of Mary’s life might have taken shape:
When she caught the eye rolls and pitying glances of her relatives and neighbors. “Right, she didn’t cheat on Joseph. That’s God’s boy.”
Nothing is impossible with God. A sword will pierce my own soul.
When strangers from a foreign country showed up with gifts and worshiped her toddler son.
Nothing is impossible with God. A sword will pierce my own soul.
When she had to leave her home in the middle of the night to escape violence.
Nothing is impossible with God. A sword will pierce my own soul.
When she heard that, after she left, all her neighbors’ toddlers had been slaughtered.
Nothing is impossible with God. A sword will pierce my own soul.
When she told her son to do something about the wedding party running out of wine.
Nothing is impossible with God. A sword will pierce my own soul.
When she thought her son had lost his mind.
Nothing is impossible with God. A sword will pierce my own soul.
When she saw the body she had once carried and sheltered stripped naked and brutally beaten, hanging on a cross, and she was powerless to stop it.
Nothing is impossible with God. A sword will pierce my own soul.
When she first saw her son after His resurrection.
Nothing is impossible with God. A sword will pierce my own soul.
When years, and maybe decades, passed, and she was left here to live without this son, whom she loved.
Nothing is impossible with God. A sword will pierce my own soul.
My guess is that sometimes she forgot both sentences in the everyday matters of life. Perhaps she was jolted with the memories whenever a new astounding thing happened, or when some new suffering came. She knew what was to come because of the announcement of Gabriel and the prophecy of Simeon. She could not possibly have known all the ways those things would play out, how she would be astounded by God’s goodness and power, or how she would suffer.
And that brings us to us. Though Mary was, of course, uniquely set apart in history, she was also a human woman, living after the corruption of the world and before the world is made right again. So then, we are like her. We live in the tension. We know, and we don’t know. We, too, can affirm that nothing is impossible with God. We, too, are bound to suffer. Are you aware of the tension?
I knew what I was getting into when I adopted a son from foster care. I also had no idea how that would play out, in joy or in desperate exhaustion.
Nothing is impossible with God. A sword will pierce my own soul.
I held my friend’s hand and felt the final pulse in her wrist as she died. I knew what was coming. I could not possibly have known the pain of the grief that would come next.
Nothing is impossible with God. A sword will pierce my own soul.
How would you write your liturgy of knowing and not knowing? When have you been astounded? When have you suffered? What would it mean to believe both sentences right now, today, on whichever side you find yourself? Will you take a few moments to fill in these blanks, as many times as you can?
I knew that .
I had no idea that .
Nothing is impossible with God. A sword will pierce my own soul.
As I look back over these words, I’m aware of more tension than peace. And yet, here we are in the second week of Advent, considering God’s peace in the midst of this often-dark world. Perhaps we can add some more words from Mary to our liturgies this week. Do you remember what she said to Gabriel?
I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true. (Luke 1:38, NLT)
It will take courage to add those words, but I believe we will find peace in the tension if we do. Let’s try. May God bless us as we do.
I knew that .
I had no idea that .
Nothing is impossible with God. A sword will pierce my own soul.
I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true.
Amen.
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