The Long Obedience of Mary
Reflections on the life and faith of Mary, the mother of Christ
Mary’s faith did not unfold in a single heroic moment. It was a long obedience—quiet, costly, and sustained over time. Her story reminds us that faith is not proven only in beginnings, but in the slow, faithful walking that follows, even when the road grows difficult and the promises of God are accompanied by hard truths.
It began with an interruption. In Luke 1:26–38, the angel Gabriel appears to a young woman in Nazareth with news that will overturn her life:
“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.”
Mary’s response is honest and human: “How will this be…?” She does not resist; she wonders. And when the angel speaks of the power of the Holy Spirit overshadowing her, Mary answers with words that echo through history:
“I am the Lord’s servant… May your word to me be fulfilled.”
Mary shows us that genuine faith does not require a full understanding of how everything will work out, but it does require a full surrender of our hearts to God.
She does not receive 100% clarity about the future, only a call to trust the God who holds it.
“Mary’s yes to God was not a romantic or poetic moment. It was a step into uncertainty, danger, and suffering.” - Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship
For Bonhoeffer, Mary represents costly discipleship. Her obedience mirrors the call Jesus later gives to his followers—to take up the cross without knowing where it will lead.
Mary’s surrender, or “yes” to God is turned into praise. In Luke 1:46–55, Mary sings the Magnificat—a song steeped in Israel’s Scriptures:
“My soul glorifies the Lord
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior…
He has brought down rulers from their thrones
but has lifted up the humble.
He has filled the hungry with good things
but has sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
remembering to be merciful…”
Mary worships before resolution comes. She praises a God who overturns the world’s values and keeps ancient promises, even though she cannot yet see how those promises will unfold in her own life.
As time passes, Mary's faithful obedience requires patience and deep reflection.
After the shepherds arrive and depart, Luke tells us in Luke 2:19: “But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.”
To treasure is to store something up as valuable or precious—to guard it, protect it, and refuse to let it be lost.
To ponder is to consider deeply, to contemplate, it is more than passive remembering; it is active meditation.
Mary gathers God’s words, God’s works, and God’s promises and holds them together in her heart. She turns them over again and again, seeking meaning, trusting that clarity will come in God’s time.
This is not a hurried faith. Mary does not demand immediate answers or force quick conclusions. She allows God’s truth to dwell deeply within her. Long obedience is often formed here—in learning to store up what God has said, to meditate on what he has done, and to return to his promises when circumstances are confusing or painful. Pondering becomes a spiritual discipline: a way of staying rooted when understanding lags behind experience.
Then comes a moment every parent recognizes—bringing a child to the house of God, full of hope and gratitude. In Luke 2:22–35, Mary and Joseph present Jesus at the temple. Simeon, a righteous and devout man, takes the child in his arms and blesses God:
“Sovereign Lord, as you have promised,
you may now dismiss your servant in peace.
For my eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the sight of all nations:
a light for revelation to the Gentiles,
and the glory of your people Israel.”
Luke tells us that “the child’s father and mother marveled at what was said about him.” These are words every parent longs to hear—hope-filled, affirming, expansive. Their son will bring salvation, light, and glory. What more could a mother want?
But Simeon does not stop there. Turning from praise to prophecy, he speaks directly to Mary:
“This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel,
and to be a sign that will be spoken against,
so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed.
And a sword will pierce your own soul too.”
The blessing suddenly carries weight. The joy is not removed, but it is sobered. Mary learns that her son will not be universally welcomed. He will be opposed. And her own heart will one day be pierced by the cost of loving him. The promise comes with pain attached.
This is the moment when long obedience becomes unmistakably costly. From the beginning, Mary is told that faithfulness will not shield her from sorrow. The God who calls her does not hide the truth: love will wound, and obedience will break her heart. Yet Mary does not withdraw. She does not take back her surrender. She continues on the long road of faith—holding joy and grief together, trusting God even when the future includes suffering. The truths she has treasured and pondered will sustain her when the sword finally strikes.
And strike it does.
Years later, Mary stands once more near her son—this time not in a temple filled with praise, but at the foot of a cross. John tells us simply that “standing near the cross of Jesus was his mother.” The child she once held is now crucified. When a soldier pierces Jesus’ side and blood and water flow out, the physical wound echoes the prophecy spoken decades earlier. The sword that Simeon named has finally reached her soul.
Mary does not look away. She stands. The long obedience that began with surrender, was shaped by praise, and sustained through pondering now holds her steady in unspeakable grief. Even here, she entrusts herself—and her son—to the faithfulness of God.
Mary’s life shows us that long obedience is not a straight line of triumph. It is shaped by surrender, sustained by praise, deepened through pondering, and tested under the shadow of pain. She keeps trusting, keeps walking, keeps saying yes—when God feels near and when his purposes are difficult to understand.
Madeleine L’Engle offers one of the most quoted reflections on Mary: “This was not done in a corner. The whole earth trembled when Mary said yes.”
L’Engle reminds us that Mary’s obedience was not small or private. It altered the course of history—and it required extraordinary courage.
Her story invites us to a mature faith—one that does not demand easy answers or pain-free promises. The God who called Mary proved faithful to her, even through sorrow. And he will be faithful to us as well.
Reflection Questions
- What has God asked you to treasure—to hold onto even when understanding is incomplete?
- How might meditation on God’s promises sustain you in a season of waiting or pain?
- Where is God forming long obedience in your life right now?
Prayer
Faithful God,
teach us the courage of Mary—
to surrender fully, praise boldly,
store up your truth, and meditate on your promises.
When obedience is costly and love wounds deeply,
help us trust that you are still at work.
Form in us a faith that endures.
Amen.