Mary, the Mother of Jesus

It is remarkable to reflect that, in writing about Mary, the mother of the Lord Jesus, we are, in a very tiny way, fulfilling prophecy. “From henceforth,” Mary rejoiced, “all generations shall call me blessed.” And all generations have, indeed, marvelled at the blessedness of a woman who was made from the same stuff and in the same way as us, and yet fulfilled so special a role in God’s mighty and magnificent purpose.

Her Prophecy

That special place had been long   foretold. The Bible’s earliest prophecy was not about Mary, but it included her. Amid the grief and the guilt, the sorrow and the shame that followed fast upon the fall, God punctuated His declaration of judgement upon the serpent and upon humanity, so that the promise of man’s deliverer came before the pronouncement of man’s condemnation. The great protoevangelical promise proclaimed that it would be the Seed of the woman who would bruise the serpent’s head. That promise must have rung strangely on the ears of Adam and Eve, though the words with which Eve welcomed the birth of Cain, “I have gotten a man from the LORD” (Gen 4:1),1  suggest that she had understood something of their import. But Cain would all too soon prove himself the seed of the man, a son begotten in Adam’s fallen likeness, and Eve had to learn that the time of deliverance was not yet.

Centuries would pass before the Seed of the woman arrived. Over the course of those centuries, God would elaborate on His promise to Eve. Eve had learned the why of the coming of the woman’s seed; Daniel would learn the when, Micah the where, and Isaiah the how: “Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel” (Isa 7:14).

God’s purpose, long foretold, moves majestically towards its goal. Mary, with her evident knowledge of Old Testament Scripture, would have known some of its detail. But now she would learn that she had a special role to play in its accomplishment, that she would be the means by which Messiah would come, that she, of all women, would experience what Eve had hoped for in vain – to receive a Man from the Lord.

Mary’s place in divine purpose was prophesied from the beginning of time. Your place and mine has not been foretold as hers was, but it is no less foreknown. We wonder at Mary’s submission to the will of God, knowing so little of the path that lay ahead. May we, like her, have grace to say, “Behold the [servant] of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word” (Luk 1:38).

Her Poverty

Prophecy had come to focus on an unlikely individual. After all, who – and what – was Mary? She was just a peasant girl from Nazareth. The lowliness of that locale is highlighted by Luke’s amazing statement that “the angel Gabriel was sent from God unto a city of Galilee, named Nazareth” (1:26). Although the angel’s journey pales with that of Christ, we are, nonetheless, invited to consider just how great was the distance, and how long the journey “from God unto … Nazareth.” Nor was Mary’s poverty just a function of her address. In her song of praise, she rejoices that God had “regarded the low estate of his handmaiden” (v48), using a word that describes not just poverty but abasement. Once again, our God of matchless grace “hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and … the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty” (1Co 1:27). In Mary, we learn again the lesson that there is no one so little or so low that God cannot use for His glory.

Her Purity

God can use little vessels and low vessels; He will not use impure vessels. Mary’s purity was fundamental to her usefulness. God had prophesied that “a virgin” would “conceive, and bear a son.” While it is true that the Hebrew word used by Isaiah means “a young woman,” the Septuagint and, more importantly, Matthew’s quotation of Isaiah’s words (Mat 1:23) make explicit what Isaiah had left implicit. The child who would be born would “be called the Son of God”; He would be the Seed of the woman, untainted by Adam’s sin. It was, then, of no incidental importance that Mary could ask, “How shall this be, seeing I know not a man?” (Luk 1:34). For a young woman to be able to say that was, presumably, more common in Mary’s day than in ours, but there has never been a time in human history where purity has gone unassailed. Mary was pure, not by happenstance but because she had kept herself pure, and her obedience to the standards of God’s Word was vital if she were to find “favour with God” (v30). Growing up in Nazareth could hardly have been easy for a spiritual girl, but where she grew up could not disqualify her for God’s use so long as she maintained her moral distinctness.

We all live in a world that morally “out-Nazareths” Nazareth. Defilement has never been so easy to contract, or purity so difficult to maintain. May God give us help to be like Mary, to be vessels unto honour, sanctified, and suitable for the Master’s use (2Ti 2:21).

Her Praise

How did Mary maintain her purity in a place like Nazareth? The answer to that question is strongly hinted at in her words of praise. What we sing about is often very revealing of what fills our hearts, and Mary’s song is the cardiogram of a heart saturated in Scripture. More than that, it reveals a personal appreciation of God in His greatness, of His faithfulness to His promises and His people, of His power to do “great things” (Luk 1:49). Amidst the darkness of Nazareth, one young girl had come to know her God through His Word, and in this moment of crisis, she was strengthened and supplied by what she had fed her soul upon. It is still true that God’s Word renders us “equipped, having been thoroughly equipped for every good work” (2Ti 3:17 LSB). Mary’s service was not to preach or to teach, but dare anyone read her Magnificat and deny that she was equipped for service because she knew her Bible?

The knowledge of God through His Word is still essential for us all. Manifestly, it is indispensable for those brethren to whom God has given the responsibility of public teaching. But it is essential, too, for young girls and for mothers. May we be exercised to emulate Mary in her knowledge not just of God’s Word but of His greatness also.

Her Pain

Mary’s praise thrills us. But even as we share in her exulting, we are conscious of the immense cost of her simple statement, “Be it unto me according to thy word.” Even as she spoke those words, she must already have been anticipating some of what lay ahead. God, in His kindness, intervened to spare her the pain of an exceedingly difficult conversation with Joseph, and provided her with a safe haven in the house of Elizabeth. But not everyone would respond like Joseph and Elizabeth did. The stigma of adultery would gather and stick; she would never be totally free from it (see Joh 8:41). For a sensitive and spiritual girl to know that everywhere she went there would be whispers of suspicion and accusing fingers was no small price. But real though it was, this pain paled by comparison with the experience that Simeon warned her of: “Yea, a sword shall pierce through thy own soul also” (Luk 2:35). None of us like to see our children suffer, but none of us had a child like Mary did, or witnessed such sufferings as Mary saw. Her mother’s heart would feel in sympathy something of all the Saviour’s sufferings. Her heart would share the grief of His betrayal and fill with bafflement as He was hated and traduced. Ultimately, she would stand beneath the cross and the sword would pierce not just her heart but her very soul. Submitting to the will of God would be a costly thing, and the woman blessed above women would know pain beyond what any other mother knew.

Her Place

We can learn much from Mary’s first appearance on the pages of Scripture, but what of her final mention? What could be a fitting conclusion to a story so remarkable? Human imagination, untrammelled by Scripture, has its answer in the assumption of Mary into heaven – a notion of which we find not the slightest hint in our Bibles. Rather, we take our leave of Mary in a very ordinary and yet a very special setting, in what would become the first New Testament assembly, where the apostles “continued with one accord in prayer and supplication, with the women, and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brethren” (Act 1:14). That the handmaiden of the Lord, highly favoured and blessed among women, should end her days as just a member of a local church will surprise us only if we have lost sight of how special the local church is. This dispensation affords no higher honour and no greater privilege than simply to continue, in assembly fellowship, with the Lord’s people. It only requires a little imagination to realise what an asset she must have been to the company there in Jerusalem. The woman who as a teenager had such a knowledge of God had gained an intimate knowledge of Christ, and it must have been remarkably sweet to hear her speak of Him, to talk of His birth and His boyhood, to relate the depth of His sufferings and the warmth of His unfailing love. And, perhaps, as the younger believers gathered around, she told them, as she still tells us, how glad she was to one day have said, “Be it unto me according to thy word.”


1 Bible quotations in this article are from the KJV unless otherwise noted.