Imitating Mary's 'faith and patience'

Many have historically exalted Mary, the mother of Jesus, to the position of Queen of heaven, and in reaction to that error many of the rest of us have ignored her altogether. But as C.S. Lewis said, “For my own part, I hate and distrust reactions not only in religion but in everything.”

So let us praise Mary this Christmas season, not overly but properly. After all, the Apostle Paul exhorts us to be …

“… imitators of those who through faith and patience inherit the promises” (Hebrews 6:12, ESV).

The particular excellence in Mary that I wish to imitate is that very “faith and patience.” Much has been written on the faith required to believe that the child in her womb would be the Messiah. My own focus is about 10 to 20 years hence. These are the passed over years, the years of Jesus’ childhood, adolescence, and early manhood. It is easy for us in our easy chairs to skip from Matthew 2:23 to Matthew 3:1 with equanimity, but what about Mary? What about living in that silent gap?

Providentially for Mary, God gave her not only Gabriel, but also Elizabeth, Simeon, and Anna. And I believe she needed them all. Multiple confirmations would be greatly beneficial to tide her over for three decades of apparent divine inactivity. Gabriel had made the initial announcement:

“Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, 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 will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end” (Luke 1:30–33, ESV).

Soon cousin Elizabeth confirmed the angelic revelation when her younger relative visited:

“And why is this granted to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” (Luke 1:43)

Months later an old man named Simeon interrupted Joseph and Mary at the temple where they had brought the child for His dedication, and he said (not precisely to them but to God):

“Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and glory for your people Israel” (Luke 2:29–32, ESV).

Then facing Mary directly, the stranger said:

“Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel … (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also) …” (Luke 2:34–35, ESV).

All that revelation was clustered in a year’s time. And then … nothing. At least nothing that we know of.

Think about what it would have been like to be the mother of the growing up Savior. Wouldn’t you be expecting any day now a prophet to ride up to the house and mentor the young lad? Or a revolving door of kings, such as the ones who came from the East long ago with incense, frankincense, and myrrh and have never been back since?

Day after day, Mary watched her son, a good lad (a very good lad), working with his father in the carpentry shop. Age 10, age 20, age 30, still perfecting dovetail joints.

It is not so different for us. The lives of the saints are short to read but long to live, full of what seem to be empty spaces where nothing is happening. Blessed are those who wait on the Lord when nothing seems to be happening. Blessed are we when we imitate Mary of Nazareth, who “treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart” (Luke 2:19, ESV).

A great stocking stuffer: Andrée Seu Peterson’s Won’t Let You Go Unless You Bless Me, regularly $12.95, is now available from WORLD for only $5.95.