We Americans pride ourselves on our autonomy. We are the masters of our destiny. I control my life—where I work, where I live, where I bank, what track my career is on. It is a strange thing for us to use “servant” imagery to discuss our lives. It can be a real challenge for Western Christians to see themselves as simple vessels of God’s redemptive will. It’s a challenge for any time frame, but it must have been at least equally difficult for a certain young girl in today’s readings.
26Now in the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a city in Galilee named Nazareth, 27to a virgin promised in marriage to a man named Joseph of the house of David, and the name of the virgin was Mary. 28And coming to her, he said, “Rejoice, you who are greatly blessed! The Lord is with you. 29But she was greatly confused at this statement, and wondered what sort of greeting this was. 30And the angel said to her, “Do not fear, Mary, for you have found favor with God. 31And behold, you will conceive in the womb, and will give birth to a son and will call His name Jesus. 32He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give Him the throne of His father, David. 33And He will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and His kingdom will have no end.” 34And Mary said to the angel, “How will this be, since I have not known a man?” 35And the angel answered her and said, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the holy child will be called the Son of God. 36And behold, Elizabeth your cousin has also conceived a son in her old age, and she who was called barren is now in her sixth month. 37’For nothing will be impossible with God.’” 38And Mary said, “Behold the Lord’s servant. May it happen to me according to your word.” And the angel left from her.
Gabriel makes another appearance, and this is significant: he is typically the angel associated with revelation (Da 8.15-16; 9.21). He is bringing the most important revelation in the history of Mankind. As in other moments of divine revelation, Gabriel’s pronouncement to her deals not just with the present and immediate future, but also contains an eschatological reminder of the significance of her child. His prediction that the child would one day rule over Israel in a kingdom that is everlasting echoes the messianic prophecies that she would have heard in synagogue throughout her childhood. In a world in which evil is ever-present, it is worth the reminder that our fallen creation is groaning for its Redeemer to fix what is broken, and He has promised to do exactly that. He IS coming, and He’s going to set things right. I think it’s worth noting that Gabriel doesn’t miss a chance to point out the significance of this to Mary, who lived in a troubling time, as well. It is a reminder to me that I should also remind others of this promise, as well.
Mary must have been completely short-circuited by the angel’s pronouncement that she has found great favor with God (1.29). The original Greek construction contains a difficult participle (κεχαριτωμενη) that is best rendered “one who is greatly favored” or “greatly favored one.” The Latin Vulgate translated it “full of favor,” which carries an implication that she is the possessor of special favor. The Greek, however, does not have this implication, but rather paints a picture of a simple village girl through whom God decides to work His plan of redemption. She is, simply put, the recipient of God’s favor.
Of course, it doesn’t take much imagination to understand that a pregnancy announcement would have troubled Mary even further—since she was a virgin. “How is this going to work?” is her simple and effective question (1.34). The answer is as mysterious as it is divine: “the Holy Spirit will come upon you, and you will be overshadowed by the power of the Most High” (1.35). Whenever we see the “Holy Spirit” spoken of in the New Testament, we may be certain that this is the same YHWH we encounter in the Old Testament. Additionally, “most high” was a term used by many in first-century Judea as a means of avoiding speaking the name of God, which was culturally considered too holy to pronounce. The fact that Gabriel takes the time to utter this profoundly Trinitarian statement—that the Holy Spirit will be involved in a mighty work of the Most High God in the begetting of His Son—is significant. But it is this word “overshadowed” that is most interesting. The word itself (ἐπισκιασει) is derived from a root that is used to refer to God’s glorious presence at work. It has a long history: Herodotus (484-425 B.C.) employed it in the literal sense of “be under a shadow” a few centuries before Luke is using it here. A few decades after Luke, the Greek historian Lucian uses it in Quomodo Historia Conscribenda in the same way. The scriptural uses, however, tend to much more specific to the divine: Ps 91.4 and Ex 40.34-35, for example use “overshadow” in the sense of the divine presence of God at work in a protecting sense. And Gabriel chooses exactly this word to describe to Mary what is about to happen. The Most High God will, in His unlimited power and His glorious presence (the Shekinah), bring about this great redemption of His creation through this sweet, innocent girl. What more profound expression of God’s love for Man could possibly be wrought? What greater evidence that the Most High God is pleased to be at work in the affairs of men than the Incarnation? His glory, His presence, His power brought about this pivotal moment in history.
Mary’s response? “Behold the Lord’s servant. May it happen to me according to your Word” (1.38). Considering the legal and cultural ramifications of this teenage girl showing up in her village pregnant while promised in marriage to a man who’s not the father of the child, this is a profound answer. This is a girl for whom the wrath of the Law and the weight of the village’s condemnation suddenly carry no weight—because she has met the messenger of God. Nothing else matters. All else pales in importance. Regardless of the cost to her societally, she is willing to submit to God’s will for her life.
What about you? As you go about your day, living out your theology in front of a world that has declared itself hostile to Christ, are you willing to risk alienation and wrath of your village for the sake of being humbly submitted to His will for you? We should say, with Mary, “I am nothing. I am just a humble servant who does what he’s told. May whatever You want to happen to me happen—in exactly the way You want it to.” It always costs something to follow His will for you. Mary came into contact with God’s word, and suddenly nothing else mattered. Can we say the same or ourselves? Or are we capable of closing our Bibles and shutting down our prayer lives and compartmentalizing our faiths so that they never actually touch the rest of our lives?
The Apologist 