Musical Musing, Mary Did You Know, Mark Lowry & Buddy Green

But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. Luke 2:19

As parents, we all have hopes and dreams for our children. During pregnancy, we ponder names and wonder at the miracle that is shaping them, there, safely tucked away in mother’s womb. We might worry about them; will they grow strong, will their body form right, will this precious child we long for be healthy? But all of that falls aside when we take our child into our arms, and we gaze into their face for the first time. We stare down into those little eyes and we fall in love with our child, so tiny, so helpless, so magnificent. We wonder at what the future holds for our tiny little bundle.

That has never changed; even 2000 years ago, when a young girl was in a small cave that sheltered animals, giving birth to her first born son, she held him and pondered in her heart all the things she was hearing in her heart. When shepherds came racing, breathless with wonder, to see her tiny son, chattering about angels appearing to them in the fields, she wondered what it meant, and treasured the news in her heart, pondering it.

When, 12 years later, that same son stayed behind in Jerusalem to speak with the priests, teaching them more than they taught him, she again pondered these things in her heart. It would seem that her son gave her many things to treasure and ponder… many things to think about… though, let’s be fair, we are talking about the woman who gave birth to the Saviour of all mankind, and even if Jesus hadn’t been God in the flesh, since when don’t our children give us plenty of things to think about, even after they are grown? (Hopefully, I’m still giving my parents and grandparents things to think about, just as my nieces and nephews give me and hopefully continue to give their parents things to think about).

But back to Mary. You see, when we think of our children, the grandest dreams we have for them is that they might grow up to be president. Or maybe, if we’re a member of a royal family, that they might be the monarch. Maybe we hope they’ll be the next super star athlete, actor, or singer. Maybe we dream of the stars for them, hoping they’ll be the one to take the first steps on Mars, or to discover intelligent life outside of Earth. We can dream enormous dreams for our children… but Mary… Mary had a very different vision of what was coming for her son.

Mary was told that her son was the Son of the Most High, and that His kingdom would never end. And after his birth, shepherds came and told her that angels had appeared to them, singing praises to God and proclaiming that a Saviour had been born; Christ, the anointed Lord… and here He was, just as they’d been told. When Mary and Joseph went to the temple as it was expected of good Hebrews, they met two prophets; Simeon, who held Jesus and declared Him the promised salvation and a light to the gentiles and glory for the Israelites. He also told Mary that her soul would be pierced because of her son. Anna was the other prophet who came, and she also declared Jesus the redemption that God had promised.

Jesus is less than two months old. He’s been described as the Son of God, as King of an unending Kingdom, as God’s anointed Messiah, come to save His people and the gentiles. Mary’s just been told that her own soul will be pierced because of this tiny infant she holds, that she must nurse or He will starve, whose diaper she must change, or He will get a rash, whose head she must support because His neck isn’t strong enough yet. This helpless infant has great expectations placed upon Him.

How could any mother have known what was coming for her son at this point? How could any mother fully grasp the future that lay ahead? Even as they said the words, even if Mary had studied under the wisest of teachers, could anyone have begun to grasp what it was that Jesus would do, would be, would endure in the name of His Father, to be Deliverance of all humanity?

When she looked down into His face, as she pondered these things in her heart, did she imagine those lovely eyes looking into the face of a blind man, watching with delight and compassion as he saw for the first time? When she watched him take His first steps, could she begin to comprehend that He would give the same gift to a man lame from birth? When she and Joseph helped Him take his first breath outside of her womb, could either of them begin to understand that this tiny infant would give breath back to bodies that had died? That the feet she held as she counted ten tiny toes would walk on water? Or hang from a cross? Or had shaped her for this moment?

Is it possible to comprehend, as you hold God incarnate in your arms, a helpless infant, the Creator of all things willingly limited to flesh and blood and bone and breath, the enormity of what you’re holding? That in your arms is your salvation, and just how much it will cost you both for Him to purchase your redemption… and yet, He has done this for love of you? That even now, as you look down on His face, and you can do nothing but love Him, you can do nothing but adore this tiny baby, because your heart was made to do nothing else, that Beloved, like no other child before or since, that infant looks back at you and loves you more than you will ever comprehend?

I don’t subscribe to the Catholic views that ascribe to Mary a special holiness or veneration. But I also can’t help but think that perhaps this young woman might have found a Saviour in her Son. That perhaps, as she saw Him die on the cross, she remembered all the times she’d held Him, all the things she’d been pondering in her heart, and saw them unfolding before her. That when He appeared to believers afterwards, that she was among those who saw Him, and knew He was just what He’d been promised to be. I think that perhaps, Mary eventually did understand that the baby she’d held in her arms was the great I Am, and she found in Him her deliverance.

What will you do with the baby who’s birth we celebrated last week?