It wasn’t the first time she’d felt her baby move. It wouldn’t be the last. He was an active little guy. Although she had no idea what he could possibly be up to with all the rolling and kicking and punching, it didn’t bother her. Not at all. Every movement filled her heart with renewed awe and rejoicing. She was having a baby! Finally. After years of wishing and dreaming, hoping and praying, the woman who thought God had forgotten her was being remembered. Elizabeth was with child. If she could do the somersaults her son was doing in her womb, she’d likely join him! Except for this most recent one. Elizabeth wasn’t sure she could mimic such an extraordinarily joyous jump.
Mary’s voice seemed to be the cause of his jubilation. The normal kicks and flutters, rolls and punches were lost in the intensity of this most recent move. In utero, the child had recognized Mary’s voice. Elizabeth had too. Not just the voice of her beloved cousin come round for a visit, but the mother of her long-awaited Messiah. Their Lord. Mary was the obvious fulfilment of the ancient promise. A virgin would give birth to a son. Mary believed that promise. Every single word. She had faith God would do what He said. Her faith was the basis of the angelic visit. It was the foundation for God choosing her to help fulfil the promise. Mary unwaveringly believed God would do what He said He would do. Virgin birth. Messiah. Redeemer. Coming King. She believed every word. Thus, it comes as no surprise that, when the angel approached to give her the leading role in the greatest story of all time, Mary’s faith responded with a resounding, “Yes.”
The decision still hadn’t been easy. Nor immediate. No amount of faith prepared one to actually be chosen for such an enormous task. She hadn’t spent hours dreaming of being the single, virgin mother of a child. Not even God’s child. Shocked and frightened by the angel’s appearance, Mary was originally confused by his message. It sounded implausible. Virgins didn’t give birth. They couldn’t. It wasn’t possible. She wasn’t certain of everything, but of this she was. And her betrothal was still just that. A betrothal. No marriage had taken place. She and Joseph weren’t cohabitating. In her spinning brain, the whole thing was nonsensical. As lovely as it was to hear that she had found favor with God, as much as she wanted to believe that was true, as dearly as she would love to gift Joseph with a son, none of what the angel was saying made logical sense. These things followed a sequence of events. Always. There was no other way. Ever. Not that she knew. Except for the prophecy.
Specifics were sketchy on that, too. She didn’t understand it. How that could happen was beyond the scope of her ability to comprehend. But Gabriel knew. Calmly and clearly, he answered her question, spelling out for her the new path her life would take. She would become pregnant. As a virgin. The baby wouldn’t be Joseph’s. It would be God’s. His Son. His miracle. He would be the miraculous means of salvation for the world. The whole world. No one would be left out. Through Him, everyone would be offered the magnificent opportunity to inherit eternal life. He would change the entire landscape between heaven and earth. He would do away with the veil that kept people from going directly to God themselves. He would be her earthly Child. He would be God’s heavenly Son. They would call Him Jesus. He would save all people, everywhere, from their sins. (Revelation 22:17; I John 2:2; John 1:29; Colossians 1:19-20; Matthew 27:51; Hebrews 4:16; Mark 1:11)
Whether or not Mary understood the entire explanation or took time to weigh the options and fully comprehend every possible ramification of her answer, she stepped out in vibrant faith and said, “Yes.” In words similar to those that would someday fall from her Son’s lips, she yielded herself to be God’s servant, acquiescing to His will, superceding her own. Her mind was still reeling as the space Gabriel occupied became empty. Staring for long minutes at the now blank space, Mary likely found herself wondering if she had really seen him, heard his voice, understood his message. In those moments, hours, or days between Gabriel’s visit and the clear culmination of his message, Mary had plenty of time to doubt. Lose her faith. Drop her confidence. Change her mind. One wonders how tempted she was to do so. (Luke 1:26-45)
Knowing the evil one’s penchant for attacking every plan of God, it is not illogical to believe he tried to infiltrate Mary’s mind. She was human. Regardless of how glorified some have made her in the ensuing decades, Mary was just like you and me. Susceptible to temptation, random thoughts, discouraging fears. And she was a teenager. Scholars and historians agree on that fact. No matter how mature young teenagers are alleged to have been at that time, it is not illogical to believe doubts and fears chased one another through her mind. Her stomach clenched at the thought of what she had agreed to do. Yet she didn’t tell anyone her secret. No one knew. No one except Elizabeth. And Joseph. She’d had to tell him. He deserved to know. He didn’t understand it either. Nor did he buy her story about a holy pregnancy. Sadly, yet respectfully, he decided to quietly end their betrothal. He couldn’t marry her. He couldn’t trust her. He wasn’t a teenager. He knew how things worked. Virgins don’t have babies. Ever. Usually.
Punching his pillow into a semblance of something comfortable, Joseph pondered his predicament until he fell asleep. Not that sleep was any relief. The craziness chased him down even there. Except now an angel was present. It had a message for him. From God. The words were many, but the meaning was simple. “Don’t let Mary go.” Don’t end the betrothal. She wasn’t making up a story. She wasn’t unfaithful. As ridiculous and far-fetched as it sounds, Mary really is a virgin. She really is miraculously pregnant by the work of God. The coming child really is God’s Son. The promised One. The Messiah. Jesus. He is coming to save His people, all people, from their sins. Go through with the wedding. Mary isn’t the only chosen one. Mary isn’t the only one being asked to choose faith over fear and yes over no, Joseph, so are you.
Waking from sleep, Joseph faced the unenviable position of determining if he believed the angel and his message were from God or a figment of his over-hopeful imagination. He had to weigh the outcomes, decide what he was going to do. Sitting on the edge of his bed, rubbing his hands over his still-exhausted face, Joseph had to choose. He had to decide if he was going to place his faith in God’s explanation and marry Mary or if he was going to turn tail and run. Just like Mary, Joseph had to decide if he would say, through his actions if not his words, “I am God’s servant. May your will supercede the desires of my own heart.” Sitting in that place where he couldn’t explain the circumstances, couldn’t envision the future, couldn’t determine his real part in the plan of God, Joseph still grabbed his faith with both hands and responded with a fervent, “Yes.” (Matthew 1:18-25)
Such impressive acts of faith make it impossible to determine who exhibited the greatest faith with their “Yes.” Perhaps they are equal. Mary had to believe God would do what He said, even when she had no proof. Early pregnancies can be undetectable for weeks. Pregnancy tests were centuries from invention. She couldn’t run down to the doctor for a quick check without highlighting her condition. In spite of what she believed would occur, Mary literally had to wait, in faith, and see. Trust through the doubt when she didn’t have proof. So did Joseph. He had to wait. Indefinitely. Mary being pregnant in and of itself was not proof she was carrying God’s child. Outside of his faith in God’s word through the angel, Joseph had nothing to go on. May never have anything to go on. No proofs. No blood tests. No DNA results. Joseph’s faithful “yes” meant he would trust God to be honest and true, not to manipulate or trick, and he would parent Jesus as if He were his own.
Quietly, nearly silently, Mary and Joseph went about their lives, with nearly no one knowing Mary was carrying the Messiah. They didn’t spread the news. There was no big announcement. People weren’t prepared. By the time Jesus was 12 and they accidentally left Him behind in the temple, even Mary and Joseph seemed to have forgotten He was there on a mission. They had to be reminded. He had business to do. The Father’s business. The reminder must have again tested Mary’s faith. Having heard the prophecies concerning the coming Messiah, the suffering He would endure, surely she had to once again take a steadying breath and reiterate the words she’d said so long ago, “I am God’s servant. May His will be done.” (Luke 2:41-51)
Years later, Jesus would cry out similar words as He bowed in the Garden of Gethsemane, begging God to find another way to rescue mankind from their sin. The cross loomed before Him, the torture stared Him down, the pain and darkness of death laughed in His face. His humanity warred with His deity as He looked down the path of anguish He was planned to walk. He wasn’t excited about it. He wasn’t even resigned to it. But He trusted God. His faith was firmly placed in the Father. His words prove it. “No matter what I want, may Your will be done.” Words like these had been part of Jesus’ life since before He was conceived. Mary voiced them. Joseph acted on them. All three meant them. Because true faith in the plan of the Father is exhibited when you answer His call with a simple, “Yes.” (Matthew 26:36-42)
The most difficult words you may ever speak will be in acquiescence to the will of God when it runs counter to yours, when you don’t understand why, when you can’t envision a positive outcome. Faced with a call, a choice, an opportunity to be part of God’s eternal plan, I hope you, like Mary and Joseph, place your faith in what you cannot see and say, “Yes.” Yes to a career change. Yes to a new ministry. Yes to another mission. Yes to a plan you can’t even begin to understand or see the end results of. Yes to blind faith in an all-seeing, all-knowing God. Yes to a God who never makes a mistake or missteps. Yes, when it doesn’t make sense. Yes, when it feels uncomfortable. Yes, when everyone else would flatly decline. “Yes,” to God. His will. His way. Yes to Jesus for time and eternity. This Christmas, may your gift at the manger be the same one Mary and Joseph gave centuries ago. Faith in the form of “Yes.” (Hebrews 11:1; II Corinthians 5:7; James 2:7; Psalm 40:8)