According to my brother-in-law, the Rev. David Handy, "Traditionally, since ancient times, in liturgical churches (Lutheran and Anglican, as well as Catholic and Eastern Orthodox), the Blessed Virgin Mary is considered the greatest of all the saints, bar none. Greater than Francis of Assisi in the 13th century, or St. Benedict (founder of the Benedictine order of monks) in the 6th century, or any other saint, male or female. Yet Mary never held any office of leadership in the church, never wrote a book or received any theological education."
But she did pen one of the most beautiful songs in Scripture, Mary's Magnificat!
And Mary said: “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. He has performed mighty deeds with his arm; he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts. He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, remembering to be merciful to Abraham and his descendants forever, just as he promised our ancestors.” Luke 1:46-55
Mary glorified God and rejoiced. She gave thanks for the great things he had done—her miraculous conception and the honor of raising the Messiah! She was humbled and realized the future impact of this miracle. She knew she was well off (blessed) because of God's grace shown to her. She wasn't focused on herself and the child. She focused on God—the holy, merciful and powerful one. Most of her song described the Mighty One, whom she obviously knew. He alone brought down the proud and lifted up the humble as she had been lifted up. He did not favor the wealthy or privileged, but was just. He remembered his promise to Abraham so long ago and continued to help Israel—now by sending a Savior. Her God was faithful and she trusted him.
God chose Mary for an incredible task. For that, she gave God praise and recognized his hand of grace and blessing on her life. But that calling also brought pain. It wasn't easy to fulfill. It meant a change of her plans, a total upending of her dreams, confusion, ridicule, misunderstanding, unrecognized sacrifice.
Yet Mary said that God fills the needy with good things. The pain of Mary's calling produced the cross—the salvation of the world. What better end justified that means? Mary was only a conduit, an ezer (a helper), but she was still blessed.
Mary's ride was bumpy. Jesus' was too. For him, there were weddings, joyful times with children, the laughter and fellowship of friends, good food. And there was the cross.
I too was graced with an awesome task—that of showing unconditional love to my husband. Can I take the blessing of my calling—a fun, attentive, communicative husband along with the pain? My pain (and his) too, will produce something. And perhaps his will produce something more beautiful, like Jesus' did.
Why do I default to thinking God's calling means everything should go smoothly? I'm doing his will so I should be blessed (in the 20th century sense) or at least given an easy ride? As Mary focused on the Mighty One, I choose to focus not on my lack but on God, the filler of my need.
Lord God, Mighty One, I so need the reminder that you are good. I am so needy. My neediness sometimes overwhelms those around me. But you have filled me with good things and today, I choose to focus on you and not what I lack.