Millions upon millions of people say prayers through one of the most important woman in the history of our world. Her name was Mary and she gained her notoriety by accepting God’s will in her life, which was to give birth to a son named Jesus. Around the world in countless languages people will pray this way:
“Hail Mary,
Full of Grace,
The Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou among women,
and blessed is the fruit
of thy womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary,
Mother of God,
pray for us sinners now,
and at the hour of death.”
Of course, we Protestants don’t pray to Mary, but I share this prayer because of one very important line: "blessed art thou among women". “Blessed among women” has been her title for centuries.
Mary herself fortold that “blessed” would be her title throughout the ages.
In Luke 1, after she learned that she would become pregnant by the power of the Holy Spirit she traveled to Judea to see her cousin Elizabeth. Mary says in verse 46;
“My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for He has been mindful of 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.”
Even though she knew how special it was that God had chosen her, I wonder if Mary always “felt” blessed?
When I was pregnant I knew that Kai was a blessing from God, but there were times it didn’t always “feel” like a blessing. It didn’t necessarily feel like a blessing when I had to try 5 or 10 times to get myself out of bed. It didn’t feel like a blessing when my feet were so big I could feel water sloshing when I moved. It really didn’t feel like a blessing when I was in labor. Although I knew I was blessed to have him, “blessed” wasn’t the word I would have called it at times.
I wonder if Mary felt “blessed” as her young body changed. I wonder if she felt “blessed” as she walked through town amongst the whispers that hers was an illegitimate child. And I wonder if she felt “blessed” when she finds herself in Luke 2, away from her home, with a carpenter as a widwife, and nothing but some cloth to cover her newborn.
Luke chapter 2 reads like this:
“In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. This was the first census that took place will Quirinius was governor of Syria. And everyone went to their own town to register. So Joseph went up from the town of Nazareth in Gaililee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, b/c he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, bc there was no guest room available for them.” (1-7)
What I love about the way Luke tells the story is that it is told so simply. He gets to the root of the story that we miss when we add pieces to it. It doesn’t say “the ultra holy mary and joseph gave birth to the King of Kings." It says a man and a woman were expecting a baby, He was HER firstborn, and she did the best with what she had.
This scripture is the reason for the picture above. That is a photo of my son in the moments after his birth. It’s one of my favorite photos even though he is screaming and clearly angry. It wasn’t a silent moment. It really wasn’t that peaceful. But that photo marks 2 births; the birth of my son Kai, and the birth of the woman I was becoming. This photo marks the beginning of my new life and my new name-"mommy". No matter what I’ve been or what I’ll be, nothing is as important as that name-"mommy".
See, even though I didn’t always feel like “blessed” was the right word for how I felt, in that moment even with him screaming his lungs off, when they laid him on me “blessed” wasn’t the best thing I could be called, “mommy” was. In that moment I became his and he became mine.
The birth of Jesus wasn’t important to Mary because it made her blessed or holy or ready to be a saint, before she was “blessed among woman” she was simply-“mommy”. That was her first name that mattered. Luke 2 isn’t just about the arrival of a Messiah, at its base, Luke 2 is about a young woman doing the best she could for this son she would ultimately have to give up. It was about the moment when he became hers and she became his.
As she laid there cuddling her baby, angels appeared to nearby shepherds telling them of the birth of the Messiah. Verse 16 tells us, “they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.”
We always take that “pondered these things” line as if it were referring to the shepherds’ words, but I think it was more. I think she was doing what parents do, she was making memories of each moment.
When Kai was born I would spend hours holding him, smelling his skin, trying to memorize every piece of him. I refused to let andy use Kai’s hospital blanket for anything when we got home bc I wanted to preserve the way he smelled in those early days.
When the bible says Mary “pondered” these things, I think she did the same things. I think she was trying to remember the way his skin felt and how he smelled. I think she locked all those things away for the day when he wouldn’t be little anymore. Because to us Luke 2 is about our Savior, but to Mary, it was about her baby.
I know that seems very ordinary for the mother of Jesus to be doing, but if He was fully God AND fully human then it makes sense for him to do all the things a normal baby does, and if he behaved as a normal baby, then it makes sense that she would be a normal mom.
I wonder if she was sleep deprived like the rest of us. I wonder if she worried all the time about him.
When I first brought Kai home I worried he wasn’t breathing right, so I would literally stay awake all night and watch him breath in and out, watching his chest move up and down. I think if she did those same things, those were moments she pondered. I wonder if in those early, frustrating, draining days with a newborn if she felt “blessed”.
I wonder if “blessed” is how she felt as he traveled performing miracles.
I wonder if “blessed” is how she felt as he preached to multitudes.
I wonder if “blessed” is how she felt when he started preaching hard messages that turned people away.
I wonder if “blessed” is how she felt when the people started to turn on him.
I wonder if “blessed” is how she felt as she stood at the foot of the cross where her son had to die as a criminal.
I have to wonder as she watched her son die a slow, painful, sacrificial death if all those memories she locked away, all the moment of “pondering” flooded back. She wasn’t just watching the death of the Messiah, she was watching her little baby give up his life when he had done nothing wrong.
As she looked at the edges of the wooden cross did her mind go back the edges of that manger where she was just a few short years before trying to do her best to take care of her baby when she was just a baby herself?
As he hung gasping for every breath, did she watch his chest move up and down up and down and remember watching him sleep as a baby and his little chest moving up and down up and down? As she saw the blood pour down did her mind go back to scraped knees and kissing away his boo boos when he would cry for “mommy”?
I can’t imagine she felt “blessed among women” in that moment. In that moment, just as with his first moments, I think all she was was his mom.
Nothing in scripture highlights their relationship more than where we find her in John 19:25. “Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother, his mother’s sister, mary the wife of clopas, and mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to her, 'woman here is your son' and the disciple, 'here is your mother.' From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.”
I wonder if when he looked on her his memories came flooding back too.
Did he remember her gentleness when he had wondered off to the temple?
Did he think back to this woman who raised him in the midst of being falsely accused of becoming pregnant out of wedlock?
Did he, too, think of the times as a child that she would scoop him up in her arms and make his troubles go away?
He must have cared a great deal to look out for her well being in the midst of his death. Because at the root of their story is a mom and her son.
I think we work so hard to make the story of Jesus holy that we forget the purpose of him coming to earth. He made himself like us so he could minister where we are. We want to focus on him being fully God to the point that we forget he was fully human too.
Mary was indeed blessed among women and it was all because she said she would do whatever God had for her. And what he had for her was to raise a son who would live a life that was ordinary in a lot of ways and give his life for you and for me. He gave up his rightful position as God to come and give his life for you.
The truth is that when you accept his will for you, that you would be saved, you won’t always feel blessed. But you will always know the love of a savior who gave up all of heaven for you. Just as Mary didn’t always feel blessed, but knew her most important role was as “Jesus’s mommy”, you may not always feel blessed but your most important name could be “child of God.”
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