Miss Conception

Owen Richard Kindig
29 min readJan 16, 2024

The extraordinary story of an ordinary girl

A still frame of Olivia Hussey as Mary, mother of Jesus, from Franco Zephirelli’s film Jesus of Nazareth.
Olivia Hussey as Mary, the mother of Jesus in Franco Zeffirelli’s Jesus of Nazareth

As we reach the end of the year of Barbie — a plastic doll who has been given a soul — let’s think about Mary for a moment. It’s a serious question: was the mother of Jesus a soulful girl, accessible to us today? Did church traditions turn her into a plastic doll without a human soul?

My answers are “yes” and “yes” — but you don’t have to agree. Grab a beverage and some finger food your conscience has approved and let’s have some interesting conversation …

To everyone, whether Christian or not: I love reading stories about interesting people, which include details that bring a sense of authenticity. Reading about Mary in the book of Luke feels to me like watching an Alex Gibney documentary.

In fact, Luke begins chapter 1 of his gospel with the assertion that his purpose is to impart “precise, accurate knowledge”¹ based on the testimony of “eyewitnesses”². His method, he explains, was to “follow closely alongside”³ — we would say “interview” — and then write with “extremely accurate, very exact”⁴ words. His editing would then “set it down in consecutive order.”⁵ [Endnotes for this article are in a separate piece, called Miss Conception Endnotes]

Historians and archaeologists have learned to take Luke seriously.⁶ To me, Luke’s account of the story of Mary⁷ pulses with realism. Let’s look there for a flesh-and-blood girl: how did she feel? What made her tick?

Meet Mary…

When we first meet Mary, she was barely a teenager, betrothed to a man between four and five years her senior.⁸ Polite society today would be offended by this, but since it was a cultural norm back then to marry off girls in their 13th year to a man chosen by her parents, she probably felt comfortable with it.

Mary’s comfort is shattered by a visit from an angel.

“Greetings, oh favored one: the Lord is with you.”

Mary is recorded as being both troubled and a bit dubious.

“She was greatly troubled…”¹⁰

Far from a starlet, waiting to be discovered, young Mary, (or Miriam in Greek)¹¹ reads like a surprisingly self-aware young woman. Some of that poise and perspective must be a result of the fact that Luke did not interview the teenage Mary, but the widow looking back after years of experience, joy, and heartache.

She recounts the conversation:

“Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. You will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name 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 father David — and he shall reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”¹²

Let the eye-rolling begin. It’s fine by me.¹³ Reading the Bible is not a test. There is no penalty if you choose not to believe it.¹⁴

What Gabriel told Mary

The message Mary received and recounted to Luke is disarmingly simple and straightforward, but breathtaking in its implications. Multiple miracles are promised:

  • You, Mary, are going to become pregnant before you marry Joseph — without his help.
  • We are showing you the future: you will carry the baby to term, and it will be a boy.
  • King David will be the child’s “father” — but since there is no father beyond the “spirit of God”, the genomic connection with David is supplied by Mary herself. That’s super interesting, because Mary’s genealogy comes through David’s son Nathan.¹⁵ So Mary’s son will be starting a new dynasty, apart from Solomon.¹⁶ And for the first time in Israel’s history, the crown will be imparted by matrilineal descent.
  • Unlike the dynasty of David and Solomon in Israel’s past, which came to an end after only 423 years,¹⁷ the messenger assures Mary that her son will preside over all children of Jacob perpetually.¹⁸ By saying “His kingdom will have no end” the messenger is making two very bold claims: her son will personally live forever, and he will become the Messiah of Israel — restorer and benefactor of all the world.¹⁹

It is no wonder that Mary would have serious questions. And most of us would share hers:

“How can this be? I am a virgin.”²⁰

The answer of Gabriel takes two approaches.

Gabriel’s first explanation

“The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; and for that reason the holy offspring shall be called the Son of God.”²¹

Paraphrase: “God will do this for you without human agency”.

The word Luke chooses to describe what will happen to Mary means “to brood” or “to envelop in a haze of brilliancy”. ²²

There are several noteworthy events in the Bible that use similar words. In the 2nd verse of the Bible, for example:

“and the spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters”²³

In the poetic language of Hebrew, what happened to Mary was similar to how the ancients described the understated power of God, fostering life in a dark primordial ocean.²⁴

Gabriel’s Second Argument

The angel then offers Mary something quite a bit more accessible: her cousin (probably, great aunt) Elizabeth, whom Mary knew to be barren, is now already six months into a pregnancy for a similar reason — the direct intervention of God.²⁵ That argument in a nutshell is: “If God can give your great aunt a baby at her advanced age, after hundreds of attempts with no success, he can certainly give you a baby without even going through all that trouble.”

Perhaps this was more convincing to Mary, who from earliest childhood had learned of God’s past interventions — Sarah, Rachel, Hannah — all praying women whose hopes and petitions are recorded. The ancient sources had affirmed that conception problems can, on occasion, be solved by El Shaddai.

Mary Agrees

“Behold: I am the servant of the Lord. Let it be to me according to your word.”²⁶

Here we see remarkable aplomb. Courage materializes as Mary faces pregnancy and motherhood as features of her own agency … tapping her personal energy and enlisting her own resolute will.

Immediately, we see that energetic spirit leap into action: she initiates a trip to visit Elizabeth, who the angel told her was in the third trimester of her pregnancy.

“In those days Mary arose and went with haste into the hill country, to a town in Judah.”²⁷

Easier said than done. Nazareth lay 24 miles to the west of Tiberias, the largest city on the Sea of Galilee, and on a line between there and present-day Haifa in northern Israel. Ein Karem, where Elizabeth lived, was in the western suburbs of Jerusalem, some 112 miles to the south.

Mary’s Hasty Journey

So Mary must start in Nazareth (a town) of Galilee (a hilly, “hick” region), and head due south through the hill country of Samaria along a well-travelled but dangerous road. Mary would need to average sixteen miles a day, with a mile in elevation changes, to complete the journey in seven days.

Mary’s journey to visit her great aunt, Elizabeth — from Nazareth to Ein Karem

Luke mentions the “hill country”. (Luke 1:39) This hints at the dramatic terrain she had to cross: the shoulders of Mount Tabor and Mount Gilboa where Joshua fought; the groves of Samaria, where Elijah played hide and seek with Ahab and Jezebel. A highlight must have been the ancient village of Shechem, (called Sychar in Mary’s day), where Abram first settled when he entered the promised land. She probably drank at Jacob’s well between the hills of Ebal and Gerazim. There, in the natural amphitheater between opposing slopes, the twelve tribes of Israel had assembled to hear Moses’ law read to them. Mary might also have paused in the shade of the oak trees where Abram and Sarai shared a feast with angels who announced the coming birth of Isaac, their son. And from there, after three more days of non-stop hiking, the ancient path would lead her to the house of Elizabeth and Zechariah, the priest whom Gabriel had visited 6 months before, when he announced the coming birth of their son John.

Did a young, newly pregnant girl make this pilgrimage alone? There is no hint that anyone accompanied her. Perhaps her father went. Or her sister Salome might have come along. By now, the older sister was probably betrothed, perhaps even married, to Zebedee, with whom she bore Jesus’ future cousins, James and John. Since the Nazareth families already had a habit of two or three pilgrimages per year to and from Jerusalem, this might have been an attractive idea to the young women — to take the trip without the entire extended family to slow them down.

Salome’s significant other Zebedee, may have wanted to come too, because we know that he ran a fish delivery business — importing fresh fish from Lake Gennesaret (Sea of Galilee) to the temples and tables of the leaders of Jerusalem — both Roman and Jewish. Zebedee may have used the trip to do some prospecting, or make a delivery.

That is all speculation, but we can be fairly sure of this: as often as the family made pilgrimages to Jerusalem, they would have traveled this route. Mary had almost certainly made the round trip a dozen times with her family, by the winter of her thirteenth year. She knew the road well. She probably loved the road.

In fact, the final destinations may have been the same—Mary and her family might very well have stayed with Elizabeth multiple times a year, for the feasts of Pesach, Shavuot and Sukkot.

A Warm Welcome

When Mary arrives at her auntie’s home, Elizabeth must have been beside herself in surprise! She exclaims,

“Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.”²⁸

I love what this says about Mary, and what it says about Elizabeth. The wise old aunt welcomes a girl who is just starting out on the transition to adulthood. At thirteen or fourteen, the road-weary girl stands before her grandmother’s sister in a delicate but active body and mind. And yet God had entrusted this girl with the future of the human race.

Elizabeth sees this. She looks past the inexperience and insecurity of her grand-niece, and addresses Mary with a particular word for a grown-up, mature woman: the Greek word gyné. “Blessed are you among women …”

It means adult woman, matron, lady. A word of respect for the unique office and capabilities of the female. Way back at the beginning of the book of Genesis the very first hint of coming good news had been clear: “the seed of the woman will bruise the serpent’s head.” (Genesis 3:15)

To defeat human troubles, God selected a woman.

He called everyone’s attention to a “seed” — potent offspring — whom the woman would carry. And now here she stands: the most important link in that promised chain of salvation.

Mary stands revealed as the woman. And the Seed is her son.

Before this moment, Mary had probably never been addressed with that word, gyné. She was, for most of the years before that day, paidaion — little girl “in training”. Then a pais or “child”; then a parthenos, or “virgin” — unmarried woman, eligible but unproven.

So as we see an exhausted Mary arriving at the matronly Elizabeth’s door, we observe significant grace and wisdom when the older woman recognizes in Mary what no one else, not even her own mother, had ever seen and named before: “Blessed are you among women. I respect you. We are of the same cloth, the same level of attainment. Mature women of God who are entrusted with children who will, for the first time in centuries, further the plans of the mysterious and powerful Master of the Universe.”

“And blessed is she [Mary — the girl standing there] who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.”²⁹

Elizabeth had already made Mary feel more confident by calling her a real adult who has been blessed by God.

But by praising Mary’s response to the blessing of God — the faith it took to believe the messenger; the fortitude and courage it took to walk over a hundred miles to share in Elizabeth’s joy — well, that was praise for more than just her blessings — it was recognition of Mary’s character and actions.

What does that reveal about Elizabeth? Well, it takes one to know one. She was a woman of character and action, too. She had suffered. Persisted in hope, like Sarah and Hannah of ages past. Only if she already possessed such persistence could she see them in Mary. And only if she already possessed that kind of courage and humility could she so readily praise it in the younger, more delicate woman standing before her.

Luke now observes something only a good listener would appreciate: the baby inside Elizabeth got excited at the sound of Mary’s voice!

“When Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the baby leaped in her womb.”³⁰

Babies moving about in wombs are one of the great joys of parenthood; existing in all our memories and in my favorite John Denver song: “she felt the baby move just yesterday”. A quiet reassurance of life as we all know it.

But leaping — at the sound of a voice it had never heard before — that’s something special. It struck Elizabeth as the power of God at work on many levels, in all four of them: John, Mary, Jesus, and herself .

Can we put this joy in perspective? How many Jews, every year, had prayed for the return of Elijah? The exposer of evil queens, selfish kings, false prophets.

And yet the big job of Elizabeth’s son would be to announce and prepare the way for Mary’s child. Elizabeth’s faith was already inspiring her son, and appreciative of the unique opportunity that Mary had been given: to fulfill the Abrahamic promise — what the Apostles called the Gospel: everyone, everywhere is going to be blessed.³¹

That’s the chord she heard in Mary’s voice, on the doorstep: blessings for the entire world. And that is why her baby LEAPED!

It reads like Luke is breathless to write it, and Mary and Elizabeth are falling over themselves to recount how they both felt. Elizabeth, after her initial praise of Mary, continues her effervescence:

“And why is this granted to me — that the mother of my Lord should come to me?! For behold, when the sound of your greeting came to my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy!”³²

Blessed is she who believes

It bears repeating:

“And blessed is she [Mary — the girl standing there] who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.”²⁹

That really is the important thing, isn’t it? Yes, it’s a blessing to be told something good and important. And an even greater blessing to receive it, and understand. But Elizabeth had learned that the deepest blessings don’t unfurl until we find ourselves acting upon the word we have been given. Action is what proves belief: strenuous, intelligent cooperation with a trustworthy goal. The sweat on her face, sunburn on her forehead, and blisters on her feet revealed Mary’s faith to be real.

Ein Karem in 2018. Hadassah Hospital is on the horizon. (photo by Owen Kindig)

Mary had journeyed to Ein Karem to reassure Elizabeth, and to be reassured herself. This is how faith has worked for all the stalwarts in the Judeo-Christian continuum. Mary had left Nazareth to take her mind off the naysayers. She had come to Ein Karem to sing with her great aunt, forge a strong memory that would shore up both of them in dark days and lonely nights that shadow all faithful people — especially mothers.³³

Both of these women were about to mother men of destiny — whose quest was a work of blessing for an ever-widening circle, far beyond themselves.

Blessings… but not yet

For good and wise reasons, the God of all mankind had chosen a pathway of humility and trial for early adopters — to resist evil, and yet love evil-doers. A battle of inner resolve, and contagious enthusiasm for a way of life that contradicts the patterns around us, that continue to lead to death.

Both women had an inkling of this. Their actions reveal their doubts and fears. But it was not long until they both had to face, without surrender, the ugly fact that their favored sons would face hostility and death. Both mothers faced it — and would share both directly and vicariously.

For Mary, the first dark warning arrived when, nine months later, after another 112-mile journey she and Joseph came to Jerusalem with Jesus to present him at the Temple to be circumcised. An old prophet named Simeon took the baby into his own hands and said,

“This child is meant for the fall, and the rising again of Israel — and a blessing to all the nations….”³⁴

Then the old man turned to Mary and said,

“and a sword will pierce your own soul as well.”

The sorrows would come when they came. But for the first trimester of her pregnancy, and the third trimester of Elizabeth’s, Mary stayed in Ein Karem and the older and younger woman enjoyed each others’ company. It was girl talk; but also soulful Bible fellowship of hope and history and promised final victory.

Mary Breaks into Song

The two women needed mutual reassurance, and we hear an insight into the depth of Mary’s commitment to the ancient promise of a deliverer when she spontaneously utters 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 humble state of His servant.
From now on all generations will call me blessed.
For the Mighty One has done great things for me.
Holy is His name.
His mercy extends to those who fear Him,
from generation to generation.
He has performed mighty deeds with His arm;
He has scattered those who are proud
in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down rulers from their thrones,
but has exalted the humble.
He has filled the hungry with good things,
but has sent the rich away empty.
He has helped His servant Israel,
remembering to be merciful,
as He promised to our fathers,
to Abraham and his descendants forever.”³⁵

What amazes me here, and has blessed me to see in many young people of today, is an awareness of the injustices of the past, and a desire to contribute to a better future.

Hoping for Justice is Subversive

I find it so refreshing that this thirteen year old girl expressed her own prophecy in present tense — as though the promised future was already a reality. Why? Because she trusted the source of the promises, and had deeply personal experience with the steps toward fulfillment that had already been taken.

The vision was clear in that teenager’s mind, and remains clear to a tiny minority of the world today — the hungry are going to be filled. The humble are about to be exalted! Why? How? The Messiah! A few of the Messiah’s cells were already inside her! In a few days, the heart of The Messiah would be beating inside her — in rhythm with her own! Her baby grew up to echo the words of her song, when he gave his introductory sermon: “Happy are the meek — because they will inherit the Earth!”

What would Mary’s song mean for everyone, everywhere? Everything!

  • She starts with a personal acknowledgement that she is a humble person, without any wealth or power. And yet she has been noticed by the Almighty and given a privilege that will be remembered “unto all generations.” Every person who sees the need of justice, and aches for a new order of things, regardless of their religious background, can appreciate the tune of Mary’s song.
  • Mary then turns her attention to the constant needs of the poor and meek. Her words reveal familiarity with powerlessness. But the songs she sang every Friday night, and the ferment she imbibed with every pilgrimage to Jerusalem, kept her young heart centered on a new way, and a new day.
  • Her words also have special impact for those who “fear” God. That would apply, according to Leviticus, to anyone who remembers the poor and the migrant, the slave, the aged, the crippled, the blind, the leper. And yes, another underclass, the women.
  • Finally, Mary speaks of the Promise to Abraham. To the Jewish mind then and now, this has been the basis of all real hope for the future. The blessing of “all the families of the earth” would naturally include all non-Jews along with all Jews. And the “children of Abraham” who deliver that blessing for everyone else would have to be both Jews and Christians.
  • In the realm of future human governance, this Abrahamic blessing must include good servant-leaders.³⁶
  • Most important is the thing that readers might challenge as pie in the sky: renewed life for everyone — the good and the bad. Yes, I’m talking about the imminent end of death for “all flesh” — every person.³⁷ I realize Mary did not even mention that part of her son’s stated agenda … but it was Mary’s son who said, “God is not the god of the dead, but of the living.”³⁸ Resurrection is actually spelled out in detail by Jesus as the practical, promised future of all mankind. And it’s both a Jewish and Christian hope. Moses Maimonides made this his thirteenth article of faith.³⁹ The idea of life from the dead, right here on Earth, started with Jews. Its reality is promised to spread to include the entire world. This “good news” would include world peace — a time for a fresh start for each individual — economic justice, and broad bonds of reconciliation between all nation-states. The personal sources of conflict, such as racism, xenophobia, misogyny and antisemitism are also on the list of human foibles to be gradually unlearned in a “reconciliation of all”⁴⁰ agenda. Granted, it seems impossible. But Mary started it — she’s the one who gave vent to the Impossible Dream.

These were the subversive Messianic expectations of Mary and Elizabeth, when they sang of filling the hungry and giving the rich a dose of equality. And yet such was the grit of these girls that Roman oppression and Jewish politics made it obvious the promises would not come in their lifetime.

The setbacks each of these women experienced in their own lives did not shatter their dreams. It made them dig deeper, and develop new levels of courage and commitment in spite of disappointment.

But I got ahead of myself. For Elizabeth and Mary at this moment, joy is on the agenda. The hostess invites Mary to stay, of course, and why not? Better to have daily encouragement from a fellow traveller on the journey back to Eden, than to face constant questions and sneers from a village she knows will be hostile when she returns “with child”. The younger woman stays until John’s birth, and then walks the lonely miles back to Nazareth — now visibly pregnant — to face her fiancé Joseph and her village.

Back in Nazareth, With the Reality of Doubt

After all the girl talk and Messiah-visions that built up Mary in Ein Karem, the jolt of Joseph’s predicament awaits her return.

In first century Judea, the customs of marriage required that a husband-to-be would write a proposal of marriage. The standard language is preserved in surviving ancient documents:

“Be thou my wife, according to the laws of Moses and of Israel — and I will work for thee, honor, provide for, and support thee, in accordance with the practice of Jewish husbands, who work for their wives, honor, provide for and support them in truth.”⁴¹

If the bride-to-be and her father agreed to the union, a contract or Ketubah was drawn up and signed by both families. The father of the groom would give a gift to the father of the bride, called a mohar. It was customary for this gift to be twice as much for a virgin bride as for a non-virgin. The father of the bride would also receive a dowry or mattan that he was expected to give to the bride for her possession throughout the marriage. And for the last 70 years up to the time of Mary and Joseph’s betrothal, it was expected that the husband would sign a pledge to pay a large sum to the bride in the case of a divorce or dissolution of the marriage. Once the financial agreements were in place and the Ketubah signed, the Betrothal ceremony would take place. This was the legal marriage, but the bride would remain in her parents home, and the marriage would not be consummated until at least 6 months to a year later, when the bride would travel to the husband’s home — usually a room or apartment in his father’s house.

So when the story begins in Luke and Matthew, the betrothal ceremony has already occurred. And when Mary returns from Ein Karem — visibly pregnant — things are understandably complicated for the entire family.
Matthew (1:18) deftly presents these complexities in a sentence and a half:

“Before they came together she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. And her husband Joseph being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly.”⁴²

Reading between the lines, with a knowledge of the customs in those days, we may infer three things:

  1. Matthew’s statement that Mary was “found to be pregnant by the Holy Spirit” provides a window into how much cringeworthy activity and discussion must have taken place. Perhaps midwives or mothers, or a rabbi or priest, had inspected the girl,⁴³ and found that she was indeed pregnant, and yet her hymen was intact. Therefore, there seemed no evidence of infidelity, seduction or rape. In the absence of any other explanation, the families must have been perplexed. Matthew, as a compiler of the written explanation perhaps a decade later, speaks the truth as it had been accepted by those who knew and loved both Jesus and Mary — that her story was precisely what she said it was.
  2. I accept the claim of the text that Joseph was a devout man. But Mary’s claim of Divine involvement, as much as Joseph no doubt wanted to believe it, did not make Joseph’s situation much easier. There had to be nagging fears from his perspective — that of a law-abiding, morally observant man under the Covenant.
    Mary was pregnant NOW. That would mean a marriage that starts with a baby that he did not beget. It would mean a wife that would no longer be a virgin after the birth canal would be vacated by the coming bundle of joy. This was a major issue for upright men like Joseph at that place and time. And there was also economic complexity: the pledge he had signed was probably more than he could yet afford. It had been undertaken with the expectation that as a faithful man, he would never want or need to pay it. But now, with the reality of a pregnant betrothed wife, he was on the hook for a massive financial commitment on one hand, and deep questions about her trustworthiness and his own self-respect on the other. He had always imagined the privilege of building his home around a pure, virtuous bride. He knew the cloud of suspicion surrounding Mary would now follow her forever.
    And it would mean a cloud of suspicion on him, too. Why? Because of the large sums of money attaching to virgin brides, it was not unknown in ancient Judea for husbands and their fathers to conspire to seduce the bride or allege that she must have been raped, in order to reduce her cost to the groom’s family. Which means the same people who were doubting Mary were doubting Joseph, too. For an upright man, whose self-image as a tzadik (righteous man) and reputation in business hinged on his moral rectitude, this was a heavy burden indeed. What to do?
  3. Joseph, as Matthew indicates, rules out disbelieving his wife. He would never demand a refund. He would never cast suspicion her way by alleging infidelity — especially because that carried a penalty of death for her. So it appears the only way he could do the least harm to Mary and allow himself to hang on to his own self-respect, was to let her keep the mohar and mattan they had already paid, and quietly accept the normal cost of a divorce. His debt would provide a start for her baby.

That is precisely what Matthew’s account seems to be saying. At least Mary would have a certificate that cleared her to marry someone else, and Joseph would be free of cloud over his moral life that he was afraid of. And his beautiful lost bride would not be completely bereft.

And so we are told that Gabriel now pays Joseph a visit:

“As he considered these things, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife. For that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. For he will save his people from their sins.’”⁴³

Joseph hears the message. My paraphrase: “Trust Mary, her story is true. You are going to be the adoptive father of the Messiah of Israel, and father many more children of your own with Mary. You are right to fear the whisperers and the laughers. Your reputation will suffer, but ignore them. God has your back and both Jesus, your firstborn (adoptive) son and Mary, that strong and beautiful girl you love, are the real deal.”

I can only imagine the relief Joseph must have felt. His troubled, questioning soul, was reassured. Now he could give his whole heart and life to the bride his parents had chosen and whom he had promised, in the Ketubah agreement — to “love, honor, and provide for”.⁴⁴

Joseph, Jewish “Abba”

Many of us grew up with an awareness of how much Joseph had to endure. The poverty-stricken 120-mile trip to Bethlehem to pay taxes⁴⁵. The hasty exile to Egypt, crossing Gaza on the via Maris through the wilderness of Sinai to a land where they knew no one.⁴⁶ And all of it with a family that was growing every year.

What most folks probably don’t think much about is what a great adoptive and natural father Joseph must have been. He’s hard to evaluate based on the character of Jesus — because Jews understandably see parts of the most famous son’s teachings and personality that they find off-putting and inscrutable. This is totally understandable. Only a small percentage of Jews were attracted to Jesus. But James was a straight-laced, admirable son of the Commandment. He was known as “camel-kneed” because of his intense prayer life. He was not a follower of Jesus — not at all — until, apparently, he was visited privately by Jesus after the resurrection.⁴⁷ And it’s quite understandable why most people then and now would not be convinced by the evidence for Jesus’ resurrection. My point is, James, Joseph, Simon, Jude — these were the kind of devout children any first-century Jewish family would be proud to call their own. As much credit goes to Joseph as to Mary.

The Meaning of Mary’s Name

It’s interesting to reflect upon the woman whom Luke was interviewing.

I think about this as a former filmmaker. Luke was asking Mary, the aged widow, about her memories as a child of 13 or 14. So when we listen, we get memories of the girl Mary, spoken in the voice and character of a mature woman. I find no reason to doubt that the words she related were exactly what she had said. Even if you’re the mother of Jesus, you don’t hear from angels every day. Her memories had to have been baked in.

But as we listen to the words Luke recorded, we can also detect the overtones of a quieter, less energetic woman. Her memories were bottled forty years before. But the words are poured out by the widow sitting next to Luke. Mary looks back, cognizant of other colors in the finished picture. She relives the suffering of her son and her nephew James.⁴⁸

She remembers her own exile to Egypt with an infant, and raising more babies on the run. She flashes back to brushes with violence, poverty, insecurity, in the service of a messianic project for which she had not exactly volunteered.

It was an honor, but it wasn’t easy to be the mother, the participant, and eventually the powerful, if soft-spoken, witness. She could perhaps laugh about losing Jesus on a Jerusalem pilgrimage when the boy was twelve,⁴⁹ and walking two extra days with Joseph to find him again. And at quiet moments she might just as easily cry. So many memories — all of which had simply come her way without any seeking on her part — the finger of God, bringing joy and sorrow.

By the time Luke interviews her, she is probably living in Ephesus, perhaps in a stone house which still exists — which tradition says was built by John.⁵⁰ But regardless, Mary had the benefit of hindsight, and knows that when she was 13 or 14, she had no idea quite yet how difficult the calling of God would be for her.

What the angel was quoted as saying holds up to scrutiny, I think. “He shall be called the Son of God.” Mary had no inkling of the makeover that church tradition would do to her life and legacy. Apocryphal stories were already multiplying when Luke and Paul decided to add a gospel that provide, new accurate details about those areas of Jesus’ background, for folks who did not personally know of Jesus’ birth, childhood, genealogy, life and work.

So what we detect in the narrative supplied by Mary is the voice of a willing servant. Even after seeing good men die, and the banality of ignorance, she still clings to the hopes given to Abraham, David and Isaiah. She had not lost confidence that Elizabeth’s John was sent by God — but she must have wondered why his ending needed to be so cruel. She was grateful that Jesus, more than her son, was also now her Lord. So she trusted, because life had taught her that was exactly what she needed. To live the life of a child, and a servant, at the same time that she was a mother.

Mary, long ago, had listened to an angel, and what alert young girl wouldn’t? But now, sitting next to Luke, she is the messenger. That made her a pioneer: women in her day were not allowed to be a witness.

She had accepted Joseph’s proposal of marriage. And was grateful he had overcome his own doubts after that first pregnancy. Cascading events then presented themselves to her: the birth in Bethlehem, with an angel choir; her friendship with Elizabeth; the cruelty of her neighbors; the precociousness and unpredictability of her firstborn; the character demands that attended her providential life.

No one should say it was all a joy. There was confusion, poverty, exile, rejection. Exasperating moments with the strange logic and surprising decisions of her otherworldly son.

Mary marveled at his insight, powers, and virtues. Felt grief at the sudden vicious turn of the mob. And then she had stood at the foot of his cross and been led away by her sister and nephew, so that she wouldn’t have to see him die.

When the soldier pierced his side, she was the living being who felt it.

How long did it take for her to make peace with the fact that an angel had promised her son would live forever — and he didn’t even outlive her?

Mary knew how great a man her son became. So did her closest friends, her sister, and her other sons and daughters. But most folks did not.

And most folks, including Mary herself, probably did not realize what a fine person she had become, as well.

Except Luke. It seems his work of finding her, recording the details of her story and writing it out clearly, had filled him with awe. I can taste Luke’s enthusiasm in the words he writes.

As the interview is finished and the story distributed, Mary faces the reality that the day had not yet come for the entire world to recognize her son as something special. The rejection she felt, and the hatred and ignorance which followed him, she had accepted as part of the Plan. His kingdom was not “of this world” — it was scheduled for the distant future. For the present, it was still a family project. For the brothers and sisters.

Something humble and, frankly, disappointing had happened. Bitter experiences and character growth. All calculated to purify hearts and challenge consciences. Come to think of it, maybe the reason why the providence of God had given this girl the name Mary, was because in Hebrew the name means “bitter”.

Has the Promise, then, faded?

When Luke found Mary, he met aged Persistence. One by one the band of brothers was still being killed. Stephen had been stoned just a year or two after Jesus’ death and resurrection. A decade later, James, Mary’s nephew — the son of her sister Salome — was beheaded.

Phillip, a young evangelist with four daughters whom Mary must have loved as her own grandkids, had gone to Africa … and she probably had heard that he was crucified within sight of the pyramids. By the time Luke interviewed her, the deepest shades of sorrow were a daily companion. Her life was spent encouraging dear friends and avoiding deadly enemies.

The most blessed outlook we can have of Mary’s experience through the twilight of her life is that she was spared from facing the death of her remaining sons. James the Just, the firstborn son of Mary and Joseph together, had become the leader of the ecclesia in Jerusalem, and the writer of the book of James. She was probably dead by the time he was stoned to death in 62 or 69 CE.⁵¹ Her sons Jude and Simon were crucified after that.

The battle against evil is not over, until it is over. Dark days are still ahead for those willing to follow Jesus the way he led — through goodness and adversity. This is what Mary can teach us by her example. She did not, and precious others would not, allow the Promise to fade.

Mary’s Story Helps Me Be Enthusiastic

So here comes this cute, gorgeous firebrand of a girl. Much like my own daughters. A fountainhead of love and compassion, service and … well, not exactly gentleness but a fiery kind of zeal. These character qualities must have been what made Mary the right recruit to be the woman. And as she grew older, after she had taught everything she could to her son, she gracefully turned into a student and began to learn from him … and in this, when we see it, she starts to teach us.

When the dagger pierces her heart, and none of her sons are there to support her, Mary survives. She saw the movement settle into slower growth. Only history and prophecy reveal what happened next, but today, if we catch her drift, we can clearly see the battered remnants of true and false Christianity shrinking from their heyday. A new aroma is in the air. A new, not so religious but humanitarian energy, regathering in the ancient homeland Mary walked. Prophecies being fulfilled, just as fresh as the ones Mary knew and trusted.

What do Mary’s brushes with implacable Orthodoxy teach us? That patience is more important than excitement. Constancy is more important than zeal. The inward is more important than the outward, and actions are more valuable than words. Goodness to all “as we have opportunity,” and quietness about our own inward struggles.⁵²

Mary embodies these quiet, self-effacing virtues. Not so much Mary the mother of the Son, but Mary the sister of the Lord, and of each of us.

The truest of Christians — whatever their denominational affiliation — are focused on learning to be other-centered. To be loving and patient. Their plumage becomes muted. Their efforts at “witnessing” morph toward simple friendship, instead of being reminiscent of the mating ritual of a bird of paradise.

The few, the brave followers of Jesus have been pretty much unknown to history. Christian victory will not be recognized by crowds gathering around leaders, (as often happens in the geo-political models of Church and State). But as Jesus told his little band of brothers,

“You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. It shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as the liberty-price to free the slaves.”⁵³

Such leaders are unlikely to squeeze into a hospital, Bible in hand, to secure a death-bed repentance. And if they do, let’s hope in due time they will repent of such well-intentioned behavior when by the grace of God they discover God’s grace for all mankind.

When Jesus came to Lazarus’ grave, he simply wept. He grieved along with everyone else. And then he said three words that made everyone glad he was there: “Lazarus, come forth.”⁵⁴ Jesus told his followers that they would be able to do greater works than he did. He was talking to you and me, small enough to become great. Those who hear him will participate in the resurrection of an entire planet, and the ending of all human grief.

The real world doesn’t need a plastic Mary on their dash board, or bumper stickers that say “Christians aren’t perfect, just forgiven.” It needs real solutions to the weighty problems that all humans face.

Hail, Greta Gerwig. And Hail, Mary bat Mitzvah.

It took an Australian dollbaby and an American directorial genius⁵⁵ to give Barbie a soul — and it was fun to watch. But it has been taking centuries to unwind the misconceptions of what were once the most powerful geopolitical organizations on earth.

Here’s what I am persuaded to believe: a loving God has planned the redemption of the entire human race. Everyone. And to do so, he chose one girl to carry the essential spark of undamaged human life within her body for 40 weeks. The entire project of redemption came through her. And so the words attributed to Gabriel, and spoken to just that one quiet, soulful girl, are among the most awesome claims of the Bible: “Hail, Mary, full of grace” … daughter of the Torah; mother of the son of God; sister of every true Christian; and most importantly, quiet believer in what G-d promised to do for everyone, through all the children of Abraham.

Thank you, Mary, for carrying the promised Seed, and serving Jews and Gentiles who look forward to the blessing of all the families of the earth.

Endnotes

To read the extensive endnotes for this essay, please go to Miss Conception Endnotes.

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