This year, our Christmas card was a stamp of Mary. Megan challenged me (Lance) to write a poem for the card. To be honest I was a bit reluctant, but after a nights sleep I got excited about the challenge. Megan has a much higher opinion of my poetry than I do. But sometimes you just have to trust your wife knows something about you that that you may not know about yourself 😉

Admittedly, the poem is a bit darker. Yet, I couldn’t help but think how hard it was for Mary to be the misunderstood mother to a misunderstood Messiah. We see her story through the lens of the joy filled resurrection. She was living a normal life then was thrown into a life altering situation that is mostly dark history for us, but to her quite real and all consuming. I’m not convinced Mary had any foreknowledge of what was coming. She didn’t know she would be fleeing to Egypt or she would have left sooner, but this also shows her deep trust in the Yahweh and the equally deep character that made God choose her to hold this incredible responsibility. I mean, look at all the art we see about Mary. She looks so happy and gentle all the time, but it had to be super stressful at times.

I was keenly aware that I was walking along side the song “Mary Did You Know?,” but I wanted to reflect more on the human aspect rather than the salvation aspect of the untold story of Mary’s experience and really, our human existence is full of suffering. I have to assume that Mary had more than her fair share. I find, in the evangelical world of which I live and work, we often find it quite difficult to reflect on suffering without changing the subject or shifting in our seats uncomfortably. We often say something like “the Lord is in charge” or “joy comes in the morning.” To be honest, this has come into sharp focus for me as I have had to deal with my own pain of the war in Ukraine as well as have no good answer for my suffering Ukrainian friends.

However, in reflecting on Mary and her entangled story with Jesus, I am reminded that suffering is not the end. Even with all the difficulty, we are able to look at her story through the lens of the resurrection and see God’s faithfulness to a helpless baby that happened to be the savior of the world and taken care of by an ordinary young woman and carpenter of not so ordinary character. They must have had an absolutely wild ride of a life. Can’t wait to ask all my questions to Mary face to face some day.

I hope you enjoy.

Questions to Mary

From the beginning to very end, 
You were there, it is written
Painful joy at birth, 
With death, grief stricken

Your story so pivotal 
Impossible to comprehend
Without it my life
Or most of it would wholly upend

But wow! Mother of the Son of God
What a noble, grand title.
Pray, let me tone down the reverence
And ponder for a while

Was the angel's visit enough
To endure the shame of scandal?
"Adultery" shadowing Joseph's gaze,
Was it more than you could handle?

Did you tell your father all,
did he too have a dream to understand?
Or being blight on the family name,
Did anger burn, rage quiver in his hand? 

All the pictures I have seen
Show you happy in the stable
But was there any angst you felt
As animals shared your table?

When at His face you gazed
As brand new mothers do,
Did you recognize any features
Did He look at all like you?

In the silence, then the crying
In the middle of the night,
Did you find it frustrating 
When He wouldn't latch just right?

Were you ok with the rabble,
Brought by Jesus birth
Strange foreigners from afar
Shepherds smelling of animal and earth.

When news came to Egypt
Of all the young ones slain;
In agony of friend's children,
Did you feel at least partly to blame?

As a toddler did He play?
Did He grope for things absurdly,
Or was He more refined,
mannerisms other worldly?

What about when you rebuked Him,
Like that one time at the temple?
Did He always give it back,
Or in understanding was he gentle?

Better than the rest, you knew him
Thirty years living in your shadow
Darkness, is this time for us
For you only to intimately know

But you seemed to have a clue
With the lack of wedding wine.
So was young Jesus like other boys,
Or was his housework divine?

When his purpose became public
And he stayed away from home
Did you feel left out, forgotten,
When with misfits he would roam?

I wonder, was it painful 
As Jesus pointed to others
While you waited for Him outside,
He asking who is my mother, my brothers?

When you saw him on the cross,
Did pain-filled doubt creep inside?
"Blessed are you" now a joke
Because messiahs can't have died.

From joyful promise of messiah 
Hope growing in your womb,
To bringing once joyful spices
For anointing the dead in a tomb.

I guess what I am asking,
If I may be so bold,
Were you like the rest of us?
Or was there deeper faith to hold?

The Mother of the Son of God
The more I look, the more I see
A pain filled journey for you
Meant a grace filled life for me. 

Did you know this from the start?
In the middle, did you get a clue?
Was there a post-grave visit,
A tender moment meant just for two?

Even though no answers given
To my questions of you and Son,
You were picked for a reason
All I can say is, job well done.

Formational Book Review by Lance

5/5 Stars

“To be conceited of doing one’s duty is then a sign of how little one does it, and how little one sees what a contemptible thing it is not to do it. Could any but a low creature be conceited of not being contemptible? Until our duty becomes to us common as breathing, we are poor creatures.”

This fairy tale follows two foolish young girls and their very foolish parents. One is a princess who is aggressively spoiled rotten and the other a poor farm girl who only hears praise from her parents and is incredibly conceited. A very mysterious and wise old woman shows up and uses her knowledge and bit of magic in her curious house in an attempt to reform the girls and maybe even their parents.

Reading as a Disciple:

“But the wise woman had, in truth, heard the first sound of her running feet, and stopped and turned, waiting. What with running and crying, however, and a fall or two as she ran, the princess never saw her until she fell right into her arms—”

No matter how many smart books I read or techniques that I implement in my pursuit of being a disciple of Jesus, I find myself being either or both of the daughters.  In the end, I need divine guidance to show me the real depravity of my conceit and entitlement. This is a parable that helps to console with hope the part of me that understands the deficiency in me and my easy forgetfulness of this deficiency. It also confronts my pride and reminds me that I have a guide that will allow my sinful nature cause me pain while working a more beautiful creation in me. I have a wise counselor who continually and creatively pursues me and draws me toward my true self away from the false self.

Reading Pastorally:

“As she grew up, everybody about her did his best to convince her that she was Somebody; and the girl herself was so easily persuaded of it that she quite forgot that anybody had ever told her so, and took it for a fundamental, innate, primary, first-born, self-evident, necessary, and incontrovertible idea and principle that SHE WAS SOMEBODY… in this odd country there was a huge number of Somebodies. Indeed, it was one of its oddities that every boy and girl in it, was rather too ready to think he or she was Somebody; and the worst of it was that the princess never thought of there being more than one Somebody—and that was herself.”

Macdonald does a great job weaving “nature/nurture” into this story.  Both the girls have a will to do what is right or wrong, however they are also influenced by the faulty care of their parents.  In the end, misguided “love” created two atrociously selfish little creatures. Both sets of parents, in their discomfort or blindness, gave the wrong base idea to their daughters; that they were the only somebody. A person being a person is not for the sake of their own specialness. The reason for personhood in the story is a bit hidden. But it is very clear that each is loved by the Wise Woman and the more they know it, the more that transformational love is shown to others.

“…you (parents) are sufficiently punished by the work of your own hands. Instead of making your daughter obey you, you left her to be a slave to herself; you coaxed when you ought to have compelled; you praised when you ought to have been silent… She is your crime and your punishment. Take her home with you, and live hour after hour with the pale-hearted disgrace you call your daughter.”

 This hit home for me.  How many times have I only focused my care for people on being “somebody” in this world without reenforcing the reality that they are not the only somebody in the room. If we care for others without the context of character growth and being a person in a community, we can unintentionally and unfortunately cause harm to those in our care.

Formational Reading:

“I could tell you a great deal more concerning them all, but I have already told more than is good for those who read but with their foreheads, and enough for those whom it has made look a little solemn, and sigh as they close the book.”

The very last paragraph of the book is a glimpse into George Macdonald’s philosophy on what story should produce in a person. And I can say the first time I read this story I was more of a forehead reader. Time and trial, I think, has made me read this story a bit differently this time.  I believe that story should be a large part of our joy building. And I also believe that digesting a story takes practice and effort. I hope I sigh after every book I read.

Other thoughts:

Formationaly speaking, George Macdonald has been a huge influence on me and my view of God, human nature and God’s work of redemption. He is known for being a large influence on Tolkien and C.S. Lewis with his fairy tales and sermons.  In some circles George Macdonald has been a figure of controversy.  Towards the end of his life his theology had a hard universalist bend. More specifically, in Lance paraphrase, through our own hell of depravity and the consuming fire of God’s love, over time, everyone will eventually yield to the love of God and accept His embrace. As Paul Young (who wrote “The Shack”) said in the documentary “Restoring the Shack”, (again in Lance paraphrase) “I don’t necessarily hold to George MacDonald’s view on hell, but I hope he is right.”

Other George Macdonald Favorites:

• Lilith
• Phantastes
• The Princess and the Goblin
• The Princess and Curdie
• The Shadows
• Back of the North Wind

Also

• “George Macdonald: An Anthology 365 Readings” by C.S. Lewis