In considering, Luke 10:38-42, Mary not only listened, Mary listened to Jesus. Indeed, that’s no small thing but it’s, regrettably, wildly misunderstood both inside and outside the Church.
In thinking about the Jesus that Mary listened to, it’s essential to let his invitation below wash over, refresh, and inform our understanding of what it means to follow Him:
“Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. “Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”
Matt. 11:28-30, NASB
Note that listening to the one who is “gentle and humble”—whose “yoke is easy”—is very different from listening to and following a certain set of tribal religious rules. Again, this is a vital clarification because we often don’t stop and reflect on why we do or don’t do what we do.
Each one of us has powerful voices inside our minds from our childhood, or maybe our culture or religious upbringing. Some of these voices are good and worth treasuring. Some are toxic and need to be irradicated. Some fall in between—a mixed bag that need to be sorted out.
What voices are you listening to?
Mary listened to Jesus.
I wish I could say differently but my observation, after thirty-five years of ministry, is that Christians have a strange proclivity to fashion Jesus’ teaching on “the narrow way” into a joyless pursuit that devalues creation and makes the world he created very small.
I’ve found it helpful—in evaluating which voices in my own head are good, bad, in between, or neither—to think about the classic game limbo. Limbo—that’s the game that’s often more fun to watch than play. Two people stand apart and hold a 5’ “limbo” stick about chest high. Then the players take turns bending backward and going under the limbo stick. After each has taken a turn, the stick is lowered and it gets harder. The goal is to go under without touching the stick and the winner is the one who can go the lowest without touching it. Again, it’s not an easy game unless you’re incredibly small and flexible and I suspect many of us might not survive if we tried to play it again!
As I was saying, in thinking about this game in conjunction with discerning and evaluating the voices in my own head, I’ll ask “Who’s holding the limbo stick in my life?” Is it me, Jesus, or a certain tribe I once belonged to, belong to now, or wish I was part of? These questions are for you too. Who’s holding the limbo stick in your life?
Mary listened to Jesus.
We often say around the holidays that “Jesus is the reason for the seasons.” At best, our desire in saying this is to point others to the truth that God became man to bring peace and goodwill to all who receive him (John 1:12).
But the glib statement “Jesus is the reason for the seasons” can also miss much and, unwittingly, diminish an exalted view of Christ. Far beyond The Mandalorian’s cute baby Yoda, the One in the manger—the One Mary is sitting at the feet of—is the Creator of all things—including snow, holly, mistletoe, and evergreens. Indeed, Jesus is LORD of All. This means, among millions of other things, that Jesus is not only the reason for the holiday season, He’s the reason for every moment of every day. As the late Abraham Kuyper once said, “There’s not one square inch of this universe where Jesus Christ doesn’t say, ‘This is mine!’”
The Apostle Paul’s letter to the Colossians helps us with an exalted view of Christ:
“The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.”
1:15-20, NIV
Is it any wonder that Mary chose to sit at his feet?
Listen to how the late Eugene Peterson translated this same passage:
We look at this Son and see the God who cannot be seen. We look at this Son and see God’s original purpose in everything created. For everything, absolutely everything, above and below, visible and invisible, rank after rank after rank of angels—everything got started in him and finds its purpose in him. He was there before any of it came into existence and holds it all together right up to this moment. And when it comes to the church, he organizes and holds it together, like a head does a body.
He was supreme in the beginning and—leading the resurrection parade—he is supreme in the end. From beginning to end he’s there, towering far above everything, everyone. So spacious is he, so roomy, that everything of God finds its proper place in him without crowding. Not only that, but all the broken and dislocated pieces of the universe—people and things, animals and atoms—get properly fixed and fit together in vibrant harmonies, all because of his death, his blood that poured down from the cross.”
Col. 1:15-20, The Message
This is the Jesus that Mary listened to. He is worthy of your life, of my life. He is worthy of our hearts bowed down in worship—of giving Him our all. If we’d listen to him every day this year, trusting him moment by moment, 2021 would not be the same!
What if we got up each day and reflected on these words from Jesus:
“I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing.
John 15:5
And then prayed this prayer: “Lord Jesus, without you I can do nothing. Without your anointing, my words or silence, actions or inaction, will fall short of that which brings your grace, peace, and eternal refreshment. Please be the wind behind my back today, and bless me with fruitfulness.”