Whence came the Messiah? Part of what we do here is demythologizing the narrative, removing the gilding from the lily. What we need is to breathe life into the narrative as it stands. We’ve looked at the Forerunner, and we know that John the Baptist is a cousin of the Messiah. Now we need to see how the Messiah came into the world.
If you go out to the Bible Lands of the New Testament and travel from Jerusalem, through the Samaritan Hills on one of the main roads to the north, you eventually come to that broad Plain of Esdraelon, right where it joins with the Jezreel Valley off to the east, forming a large smooth belt of relatively flat land. Off to your left hand in the distance is the mound of Meggido, behind which stands the grand Mount Carmel. On your right is the spine of Gilboa running down from the peak to meet you. You can see the City of Jezreel on the nob at the very end of that ridge. You would be standing rather near that ancient city of the Summer Palace.
Off to the north of the City of Jezreel is the Hill of Moreh, and beyond that the vast high slopes of Mount Tabor, standing almost wholly alone. Just to its west, and directly in front of you across a wide portion of the plain is a slightly less majestic high ridge, running at an angle from the northeast to the southwest. It stands like a sentinel watching over the valley. One high peak is about halfway between the Jordan Valley and the Mediterranean Sea, and it’s protected by cliffs. The road you need to take runs west of those cliffs, and winds sharply up into the hills atop the ridge. The city there on the eastern slope of the peak is named Nazareth (Heb. the guardian).
Somewhere in this small city is a young lady who is engaged to marry a builder named Joseph. She’s in that period of waiting between the marriage proposal and the wedding, typically a year later. Because of his trade, he’s building their home himself, but in his spare time when he’s not working on any number of building projects commissioned by Herod the Great. While builders worked in all kinds of materials, wood was rare in those parts, and the local limestone was so abundant that you could have called Joseph a stonemason.
His young bride-to-be was named Mary (Heb. Miryam). Luke tells us it was the sixth month since the Temple vision of Zacharias, whose wife Elizabeth felt it was safe enough to announce publicly that she was pregnant. It’s likely that Zacharias had taken the time to tell, via that wax tablet and stylus, at least part of the story of his vision to some of his relatives. Chances are good Mary had gotten the news, and was contemplating all the strangeness that came with it. She would have wanted to review the common teaching about the Messiah and Forerunner.
At some point, that same angel Zacharias saw appeared to Mary. He gave her the oddest greeting, calling her “favored one.” That term was seldom used of anyone living in Galilee, since they were regarded by the elite as bumpkins. That kind of language was heard more often in palaces of the wealthy and powerful. Gabriel also said that Jehovah was close to her, and that He held her in high esteem among Covenant women. She was shocked, trying to grasp the implications of what he said.
Gabriel then said she should not be afraid; his errand was to bring good news. She really had come to God’s attention, and He was favorable to her. Then he got down to business. His errand was to let her know that she had been selected for a special mission. She was to become pregnant right away with a son, and would name Him Jesus (Heb. Jehoshua or Joshua).
He would grow up to be a real big shot, referred to as the Son of the Highest. Jehovah would give Him the throne of King David. Mary knew that Joseph belonged to the old royal family, so this wasn’t impossible, at least. But there was more; Gabriel said that this son of hers would reign over Israel as king, and that His reign would be eternal.
What the angel said up to this point was plausible in one sense, in that it was according to the rules she knew about. She didn’t know the particulars, but it could well be her fiancé was, by some obscure reckoning, in line for the throne, despite the Edomite usurper currently sitting on it. She knew enough about Jewish politics to know everyone despised Herod, so some kind of revolt to replace him with a real Covenant king was a longstanding dream of the Jews.
The part that puzzled her was getting pregnant right now, when the date of the wedding hadn’t even been set. How would a virgin get pregnant? If this was all about the Covenant, there were too many alternative routes closed off, things that no one dared to think. She knew their future home wasn’t ready yet, so just how was she supposed to get pregnant if they kept with their traditions?
Gabriel explained that this would quite literally be the Son of God, so the glorious power of God would wash over her and make her pregnant. Did that sound impossible? He reminded Mary that her cousin Elizabeth had gotten pregnant well past the age for such things. Formerly tagged with the embarrassing label “barren,” she was now six months along, right? God isn’t hindered by human impossibilities.
We can’t know what was in her mind at this point. This was no ordinary human she was talking to, and already there had been many impossible things happening. Why not this, too? Who was she to argue? Her response was the standard feudal protocol. She was God’s property and stood ready to go along with His plan. The angel disappeared and she started packing for a quick trip to see Elizabeth. She needed to talk to somebody older and wiser, who would understand enough of the impossible on her own terms to give Mary support to handle the likely unpleasant fallout she would face. What was she going to tell Joseph?
I often like to think Mary thought, “I suppose this is all possible, but why me?” Miraculous birth circumstances were pretty common in the OT, and there probably tales of that happening in Hebrew culture outside of scripture. She’d be familiar with all of that, but maybe it had been a while since miracle births happened, so she was probably daunted at imagining all the people who wouldn’t believe her.
But maybe not. She might have been fully prepared for all of it.