Introduction

“There is no controversy between Christians,” Lewis says in the preface to Mere Christianity, “which needs to be so delicately touched as this.” Justification by faith, the nature of the sacraments, the relationship between the church and state—what doctrine does Lewis here mark as the one doctrine that we must treat with utmost delicacy? To our surprise, it is the doctrine of “the Blessed Virgin Mary.”[1] Typically, as Protestants, we only hear about Marian dogmas in the form of philippics; that is, we are only told what is not to be believed about Mary: her immaculate conception, her perpetual virginity, her assumption into heaven, and her place as mediatrix. And rightly so! These doctrines are wrong and ought to be rejected. However, while we have well protested what is perceived as the Mariolatry of Rome, we have equally failed to offer a protestimony, a positively Protestant alternative. Thus, when Advent and Christmas roll around, Mary is addressed only insofar as she is either (a) a minor character in a larger story or (b) a moral mascot. But Scripture has so much more to teach us about the Mother of Our Lord. There are, indeed, four summative truths about Mary that we may affirm from Scripture without equivocation.

Four Affirmations

First, Mary is the final holy woman. From the outset, the story of Scripture is a family-driven drama. God’s purposes before and after the fall are accomplished by covenant succession. Holy men and holy women are brought together to produce holy offspring who go forth with their own new holy families to spread the beauty of holiness on earth as it is in heaven. But after the fall, this task is well-nigh impossible. From feminine point of view, the post-fall battle to produce godly offspring is one marked by barrenness, deception, and danger. It is no wonder that Eve is called Adam’s‘ezer (Gen. 2:18)—that is,his “military aid” or “battle-mate.”[2] She is no doormat nor can she afford to be. If Israel, as a new Adam through Abraham, is given the task of beating back the darkness by faith, he only does so insofar as he learns the basics from his mothers (2 Tim. 1:5). Like Sarah and the other wives of the Patriarchs, Israel learns that to trust the promises of God in bareness (Gen. 11:3; 25:21; 29:31). Like the Hebrew midwives and Rahab, Israel learns to out serpent the serpent in danger by righteous deception (Ex. 1:15-22; Josh. 2:1-7). And like the Jael or the Woman in the Wall at Thebez, Israel learns that true warcraft is first domestic before it is militaristic (Judges 4:12-22; 9:5-57). Who else fulfills the whole this matriarchal history except the Holy Mother? For was she not most barren and dependent on the miracle-working of Yahweh who was not merely unfertile soil but completely fallow ground? Was she not the deceiver-in-chief of the devil himself when she stole away into the Egyptian night while the dragon, working through Herod, sought to gobble up her Seed at once (Matt. 2; Rev. 12:1-6)? And was she not the one who taught the Mightiest Warrior how to “scatter the proud . . . cast down the mighty . . . exalt the humble . . . fill the hungry . . . [and] help His servant Israel” (Luke 1:51-54) by prayer?[3] And of course, in all of this, Mary is ultimately a final Eve, a woman who holds the promise of dominion through redemption in her very womb (Gen. 3:15; Matt. 1:21). Though Eve was called “the mother of all living” in a plain sense (Gen. 3:20), Mary may likewise be called the Mother of All Living in the truest sense: for she alone bore not only human life but He Who is Life and outside of Whom there is only death (John 1:1-4; 14).

Second, Mary is the first fulfillment of much old covenant typology. Israel received many signs and shadows portending the salvation that Yahweh was to bring for the life of the world. Chief among these were the ark of the covenant and the tabernacle. The tabernacle, that replica of Eden, held within it not only the ritual artifacts such as the bread of presence and lampstand but also the mystery of the name of God, the very glory of Yahweh (Ex. 40:34-38; Deut. 16). Most of all, though, the tabernacle held at its heart the throne of Yahweh’s glory: the ark of the covenant. The ark contained all of the major memorials of the Mosaic covenant—a copy of the law, a jar of manna, and Aaron’s budding staff (Heb. 9:4)—and was itself the chief symbol of the Lord’s presence with Israel since it bore His Word and sacraments. That most sacred vessel in that most sacred place finds its penultimate fulfillment in none other than Mary herself. She is the true tabernacle, the true ark. For in her, the glory of God made flesh dwelt. In her body, rather than a box of gold, dwelt not the old but the new covenant. She carried in herself the Word made flesh and the sacraments of salvation contained in the body and blood of her Divine Son. And both, in like manner, were constructions of the Holy Spirit. That is, the same Spirit who inspired the workers to craft the tabernacle and its furnishings, and chiefly the ark, was the same Spirit said to overshadow the Virgin (Ex. 31:3; 35:31; Luke 1:35).

Third, Mary is the figure of Christian piety. From the fall onward, the Lord has reserved a people for himself. Even among those covenant members whose faithless disobedience marked them out as false brothers, their always remained a remnant, sealed by sovereign grace to bear the covenant promises for the life of the world by obedient faith (2 Kings 19:1ff; Ezra 9:8ff; Is. 10-11; Jer. 23:3; Hagg. 1:12). In Mary, the whole of this faithful remnant finds its form and voice. As their representative, she receives the unmerited blessing of God: “Greetings, O Blessed One! The Lord is with you. . . . You have found favor with God” (Luke 1:28-30). As their representative, she bears the One who is Himself the Yes and Amen to all of God’s covenant promises (Luke 1:31-33; 2 Cor. 1:20). And as their representative, she then receives the Word of Blessing Incarnate with obedient faith: “Behold, I am the handmaiden of the Lord; let it be done to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38). The Church, the glorified from of this remnant, is called to imitate the faithful piety of this remnant to avoid the lot of the apostates (Rom. 11). Fundamentally, this means that we are called to imitate the full image of this remnant—the Mother of Our Lord. As the Lord approaches us with unmerited blessing to bear the Word of His grace in the world, we can only lisp like children, “Behold, the servant of the Lord; let it be done to me according to your word.” 

Fourth, Mary is the form of the Church. Though this is implied by the previous point, there is a larger sense in which Mary presages the Church. Consider just three examples among others: Pentecost, witness, and co-suffering. The new covenant Church is born at the Feast of Pentecost by the outpouring of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2), but Mary herself experiences the first Pentecost when the Spirit overshadows her (Luke 1:35). The new covenant Church through and under the authority of the apostles is commissioned by Christ to go out and “teach whatever I have commanded you” (Matt. 28:20; 2 Cor. 5:20), but Mary herself is the first person in the gospels to tell strangers to “do whatever he tells you” (John 2:5). The new covenant Church fully shares in the life Christ by sharing in his sufferings (Acts 1-7; Rom. 8:17), but Mary is the first disciple told by Simeon that “this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), so that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed” (Luke 2:34-35).

Conclusion

Though there is much more that we could say beside these four affirmations, suffice it to say that whatever Christ and the Church are fully and finally, Mary was first and formally. And though none of this begins to hint at the necessity of vernation, all of it calls for our imitation. Would you truly honor the memory of the Blessed Virgin as she prophesies you would (Luke 1:48)? Then sing along with her song of praise to God, believe her words, imitate her faith, and follow her Son.

A Postscript for Mothers

It is an odd thing that in all of the motherly material that flies around these days, there is precious little, if anything, about learning motherhood from the one who was entrusted with raising the Son of God Himself, who is called “of all women most blessed” (Luke 1:42). Though this is natural to the immature Protestant sensibilities mentioned above, it is also because we are always having to unlearn the heretical tendencies that we should have been learning to spot and root out in Sunday school. First, we don’t look to Mary as the model of motherhood because of our Gnosticism. That is, we easily think that Mary, the flesh and blood human being, didn’t really need to be in the story. It could have been any woman. Moreover, we don’t even need these details about Jesus’ conception and birth; we just need to know what he did. Mary and her story are only, like so many others, an ornament for the Christmas nativity—nice to look at but completely unnecessary. Second, we don’t look to Mary as the model of motherhood because we fall into the opposite error of Apollinarianism. That is, we grant that (for some reason!) Mary was needed for Christ’s physical birth, but we deny completely that had anything whatsoever to do with his growing in favor with God and man (Luke 2:52). That’s because we erroneously believe that Jesus’ wasn’t completely human. He couldn’t have really needed to mature physically, intellectually, and spiritually; and if He did, He certainly wouldn’t need a lowly peasant woman to help Him do it. But Scripture, Christian history, and Reformed orthodoxy all together unanimously declare that He did because He was fully God and fully man.

We ought, then, to view Mary as the ultimate example and model of motherhood. What could be more reasonable than to suggest that raising Christlike children begins with learning from the one who raised the Christ whom we wish all our children to be like? Consider just five lessons from the major scenes from Mary and Jesus’ relationship—the Annunciation, the Visitation, the Presentation, the Evacuation, and the Celebration.

First, listen to God. At the Annunciation, Mary is told God’s plan for His people and His world through her son; and rather than bucking or doubting, Mary says with maternal mirth, “Bring it on!” (Luke 1:38, GCV). Mothers, first and foremost, receive God’s Word into your heart above all as Mary did. The Word of the Lord that came to her would not have been so easily received had she not built a prior habit of believing God’s Word. As no strangers to the miracles and plans of God, though it was undoubtedly difficult to believe, Mary knew the One who spoke and was trained by habit to receive the incredible. A new creation of the Spirit was nothing so hard to believe for she who knew deeply that all things were the work of the overshadowing Spirit. So do not just hear it: believe God’s Word and embrace it perpetually so that you may do it perfectly, as Mary did.

Second, seek out godly support. The Visitation of Mary to Elizabeth shows that, in Mary’s coming maternity, she neither isolates herself nor sequesters her God-given role; rather, she goes to visit one much older and wiser than she (Luke 1:7; 36). Simply put, this means don’t run to the mommy blogs; follow the model of Mary and the incarnation and seek out those flesh and blood friends whom God has placed in your life with lesson prepared for you to humbly receive. We won’t belabor the point because Larson Hicks perfectly delivered this exhortation here.

Third, offer up your child to God. At the Presentation, what she prefigured once in the shadows of the temple with Zachariah’s holy incense, you must do daily through the temple of your soul in prayer (Ps. 88:2). This point follows the first. Moss does not grow on a rolling stone, and neither does an overbearing nor a faithless mother cling like a carbuncle to a child whom she offers up to the plan and protection of God daily. Having received the sign of the covenant as Christ Himself did at His temple dedication, our children do belong to God, and our duty in this life is to help them become what they are.  

Fourth, listen to your husband. At the Evacuation, it was undoubtedly an odd thing for Mary to hear Joseph say, “In a dream, God told me to take the child and flee from Herod into Egypt” (Matt. 1:13-15). Yet, notice that in this story, Mary begs no question, proffers no resistance, or insists on her place as the central vehicle of God’s plan. Here is the paragon of Paul’s instruction: “Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord” (Eph. 5:22ff). Not only to God but also to her husband is Mary submissive. Indeed, the plan of God for your family will be fulfilled not in spite of but through the protective headship of your husband. Though your bent is to resist (Gen. 3:16), follow him; follow him in the small things so that when he suggests going down to Egypt, you will go with thanksgiving and share the reward of faithfulness.

Fifth, demand and expect obedience. At the Celebration of the Passover, we see that much of the foolishness that flies around the mom-blogs today about gentle parenting could have been avoided had we learned these lessons earlier. Of course, Jesus never did anything sinful, meaning that he never needed or received corrective discipline. However, there is no fully human life that does not include formative discipline, meaning that biblical standards are set and expected to be followed. In Jesus, then, we see One who was not free from discipline but knew the freedom of discipline perfectly (cf. Heb. 12:1ff). When the standard was set, He followed—all the way, right away, and with a happy heart. Read Luke 2:41-52 again very carefully and see the standard set for the adolescent Christ at the interrogation and instigation of His mother, which He not merely obeys but submits to, as the Greek verb hypotassomai suggests, a word used throughout the rest of the New Testament to describe the submission of all things to Christ the King (1Cor. 15:27; Eph. 1:22; Phil. 3:21; Heb. 2:5; 8). We expect no less from our children as well and offer their faith concrete opportunities to inhabit the life of Christ as we set, re-set, and reinforce biblical standards of obedience.

Clearly, all the basics of faithful motherhood find their beginning in Mary. We are obviously, though, leaving out something significant here that should not escape our notice. All of these examples come from the years of Jesus’ childhood; however, we are told in Scripture that Mary was also present at the Crucifixion (John 19:26-27) and was a witness to the Resurrection (Acts 1:14). Thus, there is a final and over-arching lesson: motherhood, for all of its true joy and glory, has its own kind of cross, which is usually the emotional trauma of seeing your own children suffer under difficult circumstance. Consider the words of Simeon to Mary at the Presentation after he has just given a vague foreshadowing of the infant Christ’s crucifixion: “A sword will pierce through your own soul also” (Luke 2:35). In motherhood, you accept to not only the challenges above but also the frustrations of seeing what you’ve prayed and worked so hard for visibly besmirched over and over again. You see them carry crosses both lesser and greater, which you yourself are powerless to prevent. Your zeal is only now a lament. Through these each of these trials, small and large, look again to your example. She is present, she is prayful, and she is patient; and her faithfulness is rewarded, in the end, with life. And so the ultimate lesson from your maternal model is this: keep trusting the God who raises the dead and restores all sorrows.

Gage Crowder teaches literature and Bible at Providence Classical School in Huntsville, Alabama. In addition to his studies at Birmingham Theological Seminary, he is a contributing member of the Huntsville Literary Association and the Academy of Philosophy and Letters. His poetry and prose can be found in the The Legend, Poem Magazine, the Birmingham Arts Journal, Panoply and elsewhere.

[1]C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York, NY: Harper Collins, 2001), 7. 

[2]This term is used throughout Scripture usually, though not exclusively, in a military context (cf. Ex. 18:2-4; Deut. 33:29; Ezek. 12:14; Dan. 11:34; Hos. 13:9; Is. 30:15; 44:9-10). See Jean-Louis Ska, “’I Will Make Him an Ally Who Will be His Counterpart’ (Gen 2:18): About the Term 'ezer,” Biblica 65.2 (1984): 233-238.

[3]See Bowyer on “Jesus’ Economic Biography,” where he beautifully discusses Mary’s Magnificat as the likely sum and source of the theo-political socio-economics that the Mother of Our Lord would likely have taught him. Jerry Bowyer, Maker Versus the Takers: What Jesus Really Said About Social Justice and Economics (New York, NY: Fidelis Books, 2020), 11-20.