As we celebrate Christmas this week, I chose the Annunciation of Mary as the focus for our discussion on grace. This event, a cornerstone of the Christmas story, illuminates profound truths about divine grace and human response. While the season makes this topic particularly fitting, there is another reason for this choice, which I will get into shortly. This aspect, first explored by Dr. Weaver in February 2022, has intrigued me for some time.
Let’s read the account in Luke 1:
In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.” Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end. How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?” The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be unable to conceive is in her sixth month. For no word from God will ever fail.” “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfilled.” Then the angel left her. (Luke 1:26-38, NIV)
Why Mary?
Many of us wonder why God chose Mary to carry the Savior of the world. What makes her the favored one? This question invites us to explore not only Mary’s unique role but also how grace operates.
Some say it is because she is a virgin, as Isaiah prophesied: “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son” (Isaiah 7:14, NIV). When the angel Gabriel visited Mary, she was likely a teenager, perhaps 13 to 15 years old. This estimate is based on historical and cultural norms of first-century Jewish society, where young women were often betrothed shortly after puberty. Betrothal was a binding legal arrangement akin to marriage, except that the couple did not yet live together or consummate the relationship. This practice was one way to preserve the chastity of women, as the consequences of not doing so were dire. However, it is important to note that, like Mary, many other young women at the time were also virgins. Thus, the argument that her virginity alone sets her apart loses some of its strength when viewed in this context.
The second positive thing going for Mary is that she is from the lineage of David. God promised David through the prophet Nathan in 2 Samuel 7:12-16 that David’s house and his throne would be established forever.
In Isaiah 11:1-2 (NIV), we see that the lineage of David is further affirmed: “A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch will bear fruit. The Spirit of the Lord will rest on him—the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding, the Spirit of counsel and of might, the Spirit of the knowledge and fear of the Lord.”
Also, in Jeremiah 23:5-6 (NIV): “The days are coming,” declares the Lord, “when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, a King who will reign wisely and do what is just and right in the land. In his days Judah will be saved and Israel will live in safety. This is the name by which he will be called: The Lord Our Righteous Savior.”
By this time, David’s lineage was about 1,000 years old. Given that the population of Judah was anywhere between 2 to 4 million, the descendants of David would have been numerous, likely numbering in the tens of thousands, if not more. Thus, the argument that Mary was chosen solely because she was from David’s lineage seems insufficient.
Adding complexity to the matter, Mary was not from a significant or wealthy family, and the Bible does not mention any other prominence that would make her an obvious choice for this extraordinary calling. Despite her youth and societal insignificance, she was chosen for a divine purpose that would change the course of human history. This raises an intriguing question: why was she chosen?
The angel’s greeting reveals a profound truth about grace. Mary’s favor with God was not a result of her abilities, virtues, or status. Rather, it was an act of divine grace, God’s unmerited favor. The Greek word translated as “favor” in Luke 1:30 is χάρις (charis), which is often rendered as “grace” in the New Testament. Gabriel’s use of this term underscores that Mary’s role in bearing the Son of God was a gift of divine grace, not a reward for human effort. This grace extends beyond Mary, reminding us that grace calls all believers to unique missions in God’s plan.
As Paul later writes, “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do” (Ephesians 2:8-10, NIV). In essence, Mary’s favor was a reflection of God’s sovereign choice, not her personal merit. Grace, as Paul explains, was given to fulfill divine purposes through human vessels.
Responding to Grace
How did Mary react to such a gift of grace?
Initially, she reacted to Gabriel’s greeting with perplexity and fear. The angel’s words, “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you,” carried an overwhelming weight of responsibility and divine purpose.
Dr. Weaver said: “Luke says that Mary is greatly troubled by what the angel says. We are doubtless troubled by our capacity for evil, and for aggression, or even more afraid, it seems, of our capacity for goodness. Mary is greatly troubled to hear herself be proclaimed as full of grace and that the Lord is with her. And so too, I think, are we. Far more threatening than the fear that we are capable of doing evil and harming others is the truth that we are blessed, full of grace, and have the capacity to bring Jesus into the world in a special and individually specific way.”
Fear of Goodness
This insight introduces a crucial theme: the fear of goodness. Why do we fear embracing the light within us? Is it because we doubt our worthiness, fear responsibility, or resist the transformative change grace demands?
Personally, I am well aware of my capacity for wrongdoing. I am terrified by what I am capable of and the damage I can inflict on my loved ones. But to be honest, I never realized that I am even more scared of rising up to God’s calling to bring good into this world. This realization is echoed in writings by thinkers like C. S. Lewis, Carl Jung, and Marianne Williamson.
C. S. Lewis said, “We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us.”
Carl Jung proposed that the human psyche has both a “shadow” (repressed aspects) and a “light” (higher potential). While the shadow is feared, Jung noted that integrating the light can be just as terrifying. It forces us to transcend limitations, face the “dizziness of freedom,” and bear the weight of infinite responsibility. This fear disrupts identity and challenges us to grow, mirroring the fear Mary faced.
Among all, the one that I like the most comes from Marianne Williamson in her book A Return to Love: “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn’t serve the world. There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we’re liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
This quote underscores the transformative power of grace, and the courage required to embrace it fully. Recognizing grace also means embracing accountability to something greater than ourselves which is a humbling and faith-filled act that can feel both intimidating and transformative.
Mary’s perplexity and fear mirror our own struggles with accepting God’s grace and calling. The fear is not rooted in inadequacy but in the overwhelming responsibility of manifesting the divine light within us. Like Mary, we ask, “Who am I?” Yet God’s response is clear: You are chosen.
God’s grace bestowed on Mary was not for her benefit alone but for the salvation of the world. Through her willingness to bear the Christ, she became the vessel of God’s greatest gift to humanity. Similarly, we are called to allow God’s grace to work through us for the blessing of others. Mary’s path was far from easy. She faced ridicule and potential death, as the penalty for being pregnant out of wedlock was stoning (Deuteronomy 22:23-24). Yet, despite knowing the risks, Mary responded with unparalleled courage: “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfilled” (Luke 1:38, NIV).
Her acceptance of God’s will exemplifies the surrender and trust required to fulfill a divine calling. Grace does not promise an easy path but provides the strength to endure. True goodness demands vulnerability, selflessness, and the courage to embrace divine potential. It requires surrendering our fears and trusting God’s plan, as Mary did.
Like Mary, we often struggle with fear and self-doubt, shrinking from the divine calling to manifest God’s glory. Yet God’s grace assures us that we are chosen, not because of our abilities, but because of His love. As we let our light shine, embracing our unique mission, we become vessels of God’s grace to a world in need.
For discussion today, I have these questions.
- Why do we often fear our capacity to do good or embrace the light within us, as Mary initially feared her divine calling? How can we overcome this fear to fulfill our unique purpose?
- What does Mary’s response to the angel’s announcement teach us about trusting in grace when we feel unworthy or overwhelmed by the responsibility of doing good?
- How does recognizing our capacity for goodness challenge our identity and compel us to grow? In what ways can this be both humbling and transformative?
C-J: I think when we pause to consider, it allows us to look through a different lens. And when we look through a different lens, we don’t just see what we believe as finite. I’m sure Mary couldn’t begin to conceive of who her son would become as he evolved and as it was recognized. But she believed intuitively through the Holy Spirit: If you say it, then I will believe it. That’s where she started, and the rest was up to time and place.
You know, if I die, I die—it doesn’t matter. I will be obedient and receive whatever God gives me. Beyond that, as you describe it, that time in history was chaotic. There was uncertainty. Nobody was really happy with Roman rule, etc.
I think that’s how all of us walk in our own time and place in history. We only know today, the finite. But are we yielded to believe that God is an active and dynamic force within us? There is intentional purpose, and when we can trust that, then God begins to use us as instruments in a more obvious way.
Take Mandela—even though he was under house arrest, he was still being used by God. Even in a simple phrase that went forth, it gained momentum and authority as it was repeated. Does that make sense?
Carolyn: I wonder about the word expertise. I’m thinking about my own fears, what causes them, and how Mary was able to give hers to the Lord and trust that He was with her.
At times, I feel I don’t have the expertise. There are people who seem to have it. Especially as I’m growing older, I don’t have the quick tongue I used to, and I wish I had a better way of conveying how beautiful and wonderful this Christmas story is—showing the grace that only God can give.
But to be able to share that with others makes me ask: Do I need to be an expert, or is it okay just to express what the Lord has done for me in my own way? I know the Holy Spirit gives us words, but it makes me more hesitant. Sometimes, I know I miss wonderful opportunities to share the Good News.
I think part of it is that I haven’t fully cemented in my mind, heart, and soul the whole story of grace. The comprehension feels so massive to me, and I can only express how I feel.
Donald: The concept of being an expert suggests that an expert has confidence in knowing what they know. I don’t think Mary is described in any way, shape, or form as someone confident or as an expert. She’s just another person.
We don’t know why she was picked, as Kiran outlined. Certainly, there were others who would fit the criteria we’ve been given. But was Mary holy? Was she someone who understood the concept of a being greater than herself? We don’t know that.
It just seems like it’s out of the blue, and so are we. We have a hard time accepting the reality of what’s being described and offered to us.
Don: I think the very thing we want to portray—that God’s grace is sufficient for us, is good for us, is adequate for us, and is full and free for us—is the very thing that, as Carolyn said, hinders our confidence in sharing it with others. But that’s the actual meaning and purpose of grace: we don’t have all the answers. We don’t have all the ducks in a row.
And even if we did, it wouldn’t matter, because it’s not our responsibility. It’s God’s work that’s important—in our salvation and in sharing what we know with others. The desire to be an expert, to use Donald’s metaphor, isn’t meant to limit us. It’s to help us understand even more the power of God’s grace.
Donald: One of the primary roles of Andrews University is to teach preachers. The seminary is there, so anytime you’re in a circle of friends, there’s likely someone either being trained in the seminary or training others.
But my point is that when a question is asked, or even when grace is to be offered, people often look around the room and think, “Okay, who’s from the seminary? Who’s the expert here?” Everyone else is humbled by that—or at least doesn’t see their role as equivalent to that of an expert.
So probably it’s exactly what Kiran is introducing today. Even though Mary was picked, what could she possibly think or say after being told such information? “Why me?” It’s like saying, “I don’t want to pray in front of this person who’s been trained as a seminarian.”
We are often intimidated by experts, if you will. And Mary is not described as having any expertise in any way, shape, or form.
Don: I think you’re exactly right. She’s portrayed as not being an expert. That’s the whole purpose of the story—her ordinariness is striking. That’s why we see ourselves in Mary, because, like her, we are completely devoid of anything “expert.”
David: And that’s perhaps why we’re like Carolyn. We see that in ourselves too. I think Carolyn’s struggle is an example of the fear that Kiran mentioned, which I thought was the most insightful point of all.
We’re afraid of using the power of God that’s within us. That’s what we’re afraid of doing. Mary, of course, overcame that fear to bear Jesus.
It’s not expertise that we need. It’s simply faith—the faith to trust that the power of God within us is enough to tell the Christmas story or to do whatever it is that God calls us to do at any particular time.
Reinhard: I think Mary being chosen to be the mother of Jesus was God’s decision from the beginning. God could have picked any virgin, any young woman, back then. But the prophecy in Isaiah 7:14, I believe, mentions that a son would be born through a virgin.
The Old Testament prophecy about Jesus being born through a virgin was fulfilled. Of course, in the eyes of the Roman Catholic tradition, they place a special emphasis on Mary and pray to her as a way to connect with Jesus. I remember when I went to Catholic school in junior high, they recited the Lord’s Prayer, but they also added prayers to Mary.
As Protestants, we don’t pray through her or consider her as the Catholics do. To us, she was a regular woman, though being chosen to become the mother of the Savior was undoubtedly a privilege. Other than that, we don’t regard her in the same way Catholics do.
Don: Reinhard seems to be having some trouble with his internet. I noticed his connection has been flipping on and off—must be a weak signal.
I think it’s significant that this story of grace comes through a virgin. It means that whatever Mary delivered—whatever she had to share—was not of man’s origin. It was a product of divinity. The Immaculate Conception is a statement of divinity rather than human work.
There’s a sense in which what we have to share with the world is also not a product of our own doing but of divinity. I think Carolyn shared something we all fear: that we’re inadequate. But we’re inadequate for a reason—that what we have to share is not of our own devising. It’s a sharing of something God gives to each of us in a unique way.
What you have to share is different from what I have to share. It can’t be learned, practiced, or programmed. It’s something that will be delivered through you, as you become a conduit of God’s grace.
David: But is it more than being a conduit? Is it purely of divine origin? Couldn’t we think of Mary as a co-creator? Would this explain why the Catholics revere her so much?
I mean, in a sense, she had to help in this. It wasn’t just that she was impregnated by God—she had to bring the child to term. She had to do all the things a woman has to do to ensure a healthy birth in a very tough environment.
The journalist David Brooks wrote recently that the Jews believe in the notion of co-creation: that Moses, in bringing the tablets with the law, was himself a co-creator of the Jewish religion. This reflects our responsibility and the power of God within us to be co-creators with Him of goodness in the world.
This idea fits well with my appreciation for process theology—the notion of God as both being and becoming. But I’m struck by the thought that Mary was a co-creator of Jesus.
Carolyn: I don’t know. Maybe you can shed some light on this. Within myself, I feel like, if you don’t have… I’m not going to use the word “expertise,” but if you don’t have a grace-filled relationship with the Lord, what do you have to offer to the world or to those around you?
Everybody is telling this story at this time of year. Many scholarly and heartfelt people are sharing it. But for me, if I’m not secure in that relationship—if I have doubt in that relationship—it’s very hard for me to share God’s grace and all the things I love about this story.
Donald: What David expressed, in the context of what others have shared this morning, is an interesting thought. It had to be a woman. It couldn’t be a man.
If a woman had 10 people she could choose to marry and have a child with, each of those 10 children would be different people. She is very much a part of the process. It doesn’t work the same way for a man. The woman contributes significantly to the process.
Certainly, God could have made it so that Mary was simply the person who gave birth to Christ, without the child being of her. We don’t know the full mystery of it, but I think it’s a significant point.
If a woman had children with 10 different men, each child would have a unique personality. The man contributes, but the woman does as well. Just as Mary was part of the process, so are we. Each person expresses what happens through grace in a unique and divine way.
You bring something to grace—a part of the equation that is uniquely you. And that, in itself, is miraculous.
C-J: I’m thinking that Joseph was a surrogate parent. If so, it wasn’t a haphazard choice out of ten options. I believe God is always intentional. Even though sometimes I think, Of all the people, you couldn’t have given me different parents?—there’s an intention there.
These weren’t privileged people. Life was hard for them. But out of that experience, Jesus had the opportunity to learn empathy and the grace of God in a profound way.
When we say, “God’s provision,” at the table when we have plenty, we often say it casually: Look at God’s bounty. But if you haven’t eaten for two days and someone gives you a piece of bread and a slice of cheese, that’s more than provision—that’s God’s grace. It’s a different kind of bounty.
And Mary, she wasn’t just a co-creator biologically. Mothers have a tremendous influence on their children. The love a mother has for her child is profoundly different from that of a father. Mary gave part of her sustenance to this baby to grow. She felt the baby kick for the first time. Her body gave all the calcium it needed to this child. She sacrificed willingly, knowing her life could end during childbirth through infection or complications.
God gives women a unique capacity for this, and it amazes me. This thing called motherly love—you can have a surrogate mother, but what a mother brings intuitively and biologically is different from what a father brings. A father might feel pride, saying, This is my son. This is my daughter. A mother says, This is blood of my blood.
When a mother gives birth, her blood literally spills out. It’s profoundly different.
Reinhard: I don’t quite get it. To me, Mary was only human. God impregnated her through the Holy Spirit. Mary, in this sense, was like a vehicle. Everything was under God’s control.
I respect what Catholics believe, but I don’t think Mary had any divine qualities. I know they believe Mary went to heaven and became a saint. But if we look at Mary’s life during Jesus’ time, the Bible doesn’t show special treatment for her.
Take the wedding at Cana, for instance. When Mary asked Jesus to help, He addressed her as “woman.” There was no special treatment there. Or consider when Jesus was teaching, and someone said, Your mother and brothers are here to see you. Jesus responded, Who are my mother and brothers? Those who do my commandments.
There’s no special treatment of Mary in these accounts. Even at the crucifixion, Jesus referred to her as “woman” and told a disciple, This is your mother.
Of course, as a mother, Mary was a good one—no question. She raised Jesus well. And there was no physical contact between her and Joseph until Jesus was born. But after that, Mary had other children.
To me, it was God’s prerogative to choose Mary. The process of Jesus’ birth and mission was God’s plan. Even though Jesus was God, He was born as a human, sent to save the world and give us grace.
David: I wonder if the Catholic view of Mary—the popular view—is focused on Mary as the individual, historical woman. She is the one who appears to be revered, with statues of her and so on.
But I wonder if, at its heart, Catholicism views Mary as an example of what we all are. We are all co-creators. We all have the power of God within us. We are all capable of giving birth to that power and being co-creators in that sense. So, revering Mary as the ultimate example of what God intends is perfectly fine.
Donald: Last night, my wife and I watched the Mormon Tabernacle experience. That annual production is something we always look forward to.
What struck me was the juxtaposition between the screen we were watching and a painting nearby, which I believe is a Renoir. The painting depicts a dark, humble barn with animals—it’s clearly grounded in simplicity. But then, watching the Mormon Tabernacle Choir present essentially the same story was remarkable.
We asked each other why we appreciate what the Mormon Tabernacle Choir does so much. Thousands of people gather to watch this event annually, and it’s a grand expression of something that was originally humble and dark. Hundreds of people sing in perfect harmony, with an organ that doesn’t quit. The entire production is flawless—everything is sterilized and polished.
When humans get ahold of something like this, we tend to make it perfect, even sterilized, rather than participatory. We observe it rather than engage with it. It was so striking last night to see the electronic screen compared to the painting, which captured more of what the Bible expresses. It’s human nature to want to perfect something, to express it in a polished way that emphasizes human talent.
C-J: I think the Mormon Tabernacle represents the transformational quality of the Holy Spirit at work in humanity. When we have a revelation—whether through scripture, music, or being in community—it’s transformational. It’s that “hallelujah” moment you can’t put boundaries on. It’s overwhelming.
But who we are without God is profoundly limited. Without Him, we’re just finite beings, flesh that will eventually die and return to the earth. With the Spirit, though, we are without limits. That’s what we’ve been talking about—the intention of God. Mary was the beginning, and Christ’s death continues that purpose.
Don: I’m struck by the fact that the shepherds’ experience was also overwhelming. In some ways, it was like the experience of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, except they had an angel choir.
Maybe there’s something to the idea that the Christmas story combines both the dark and humble with the bright and glorious, all at the same time.
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