Mary’s Answer

by John V. Upton, Executive Director

Christmas is coming and soon we’ll be deep into the Christmas story.  Do you know what I long to hear?  I long to hear again the quiet response of a young girl to a strange visitor in her life.  In other words, what happened to Mary is exactly what needs to happen to you and me and to every church.  At the center of the story is a doorway through which we are to enter with our own hearing of strange news and our own answering of it.

One day this girl is by herself, alone with her work, her thoughts—alone, as we’re all essentially alone.  But to her surprise she suddenly sees a stranger standing in front of her.  There’s no need to picture him wearing big wings and blonde hair and glowing with light—like some big Swedish Tinkerbell.  The word angel means “messenger.”  This is Gabriel, God’s messenger; and we might as well imagine him looking that day like a typical traveler in Palestine, or like just about anyone.  I do suspect at least this about his looks:  an odd twinkle in his eyes, a quizzical smile on his face.  I think he is fairly brimming with something not too far from glee, for these are the words he says to her: “Hello, favored one.  The Lord is with you.”

To Mary’s credit, she doesn’t reply “And also with you” or “Thanks be to God” or anything else remotely religious.  She knows not to speak to strange men, especially the sweet-talking kind.  She says nothing, just stands there and thinks how strange a greeting he brings—“Hello, favored one”—and wonders what he is getting at anyway.

So Gabriel has to speak again.  This time he says what angels must always say: “Don’t be afraid.”  He even calls her by name and tells her she will conceive a son in her womb and she will call him Jesus.  He will be great, the angel says, and of his kingdom there shall be no end.

Does the girl bow her head and submit?  Not on your life, and good for her.  The girl in the Christmas story is not naive or a starry-eyed religious nut.  She’s a realist, and a good enough biologist.  She’s got crucial information about herself that flatly contradicts what her visitor has said.  She knows it cannot be her story that he is telling.  She says: “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” 

So the angel leans in closer, and his smile gets broader:  “Who said we need a guy? This is not about you and somebody else.  This is about God and you, just you.  With God, you are enough.” Mary is staring at the stranger now.  It’s not about what somebody else does or doesn’t do.  It’s about you and what you choose. 

Now it’s Gabriel’s turn to wait.  He has told her what you and I have also been told.  You have found favor with God.  You are chosen to bear a beautiful new life, miraculous and sacred.  It’s about no one else but you and God.  Empty as you are, with God nothing is impossible.  And now there is a pause—who knows how long—while Mary makes her choice.

I love what she answers, most of all for its absolute openness.  Her response conveys nothing narrow.  She doesn’t say: “All right, I’ll have the baby.”  She says: “Here I am, the servant of the Lord.  Let it be with me according to your word.”  In other words:  “I’m yours.  Whatever you want.”

There is no way for Mary to understand all that her “Yes” to God will mean.  Our answer to God is the long walk of the rest of our lives.  It begins, like any walk, with one specific step; but then there’s another and another and a thousand other steps on a path that turns and winds a whole life long. 

“Then the angel departed from her,” says Luke.  I can see Gabriel turning cartwheels up the road and shouting: “She said YES!”  His last word still hangs in the air:  “With God, nothing is impossible.”  This Christmas give the answer of your life.  And Merry Christmas.