Luke 1:46-55
In the tv show Doctor Who, they frequently mention perception filters, which disguise something that otherwise would be in plain sight. It doesn’t necessarily make the object physically disappear, but the filter makes it virtually unnoticeable.
In a similar way, when I look through passages in the Bible, ones I read or heard a million times as a child growing up Evangelical/Pentecostal, it feels as if a perception filter has been destroyed and I can finally see the verses in their fullness. As a child, I was taught to read the Bible on a daily basis. The Bible was the word of God and it would serve as a guide for my whole life. Reading the Bible was how God would “speak’’ to me.
And yet, despite how much time we would spend reading and studying the Bible, it seemed as if we were unable to truly grasp the significance of the gospel. We found ways to twist the good news into being just about the afterlife while ignoring the gospel’s message of liberation for the oppressed and marginalized. We read the Bible but our insistence on holding the “only” right interpretation meant we couldn’t truly embrace the Bible nor the God that it pointed to.
Mary, in the Evangelical/Pentecostal spaces I moved in as a child, was a predominantly ignored secondary character. Her significance rested only in her submission to God. She was an example of someone who obeyed God even when asked to participate in the impossible. But other than that, she was mainly ignored.
And yet...there’s more to her story. She pointed to and worshiped a God who sided with the marginalized and oppressed. Yes, she birthed and physically cared for Jesus, the Son of God, but I can imagine she also taught Jesus what it meant to be the Son of God. Her song praising God in Luke is a song that not only expresses her wonder in God, but it is also a song of revolution.
I couldn’t recognize the power and subversiveness of this passage growing up, because while the passage was in plain sight, its meaning was hidden. But now, I see that her song was not a meek, calming hymnal. But a loud song of protest. Even before the birth of Jesus, Mary was preaching a God who turns the world upside down and overthrows the powerful.
Maybe Jesus was born recognizing and embracing who he was. But more likely he had to be taught and nurtured into his identity as the Son of God. And his first teacher would have been Mary. I imagine she taught Jesus about the God who rejected the status quo, who looked at disgust at the powerful whose wealth and status were gained at the expense of the marginalized and poor.
Mary the mother of Jesus, also nurtured one who advocated for a nonviolent revolution that would displace the violence and exploitation common in the world. Mary’s obedience to God was not one of quiet acquiescence. But it was an obedience built on protest and power.
Image: Black background. Text: Mary’s obedience to God was not one of quiet acquiescence. But it was an obedience built on protest and power.