“And the chief priests plotted to kill Lazarus too...”
— John 12:10—
Growing up in a God-fearing, Bible-reading, Church-attending home meant having an above-average awareness of what God could do in the life of a person. God could heal people, send plagues, part the waters of the ocean, make water come from rocks, walk on water, make other people walk on water, and the list goes on.
As a young kid, I can remember reading the stories of the Bible or hearing stories from the mission field and wanting God to miraculously move in my life. Not because I needed a miracle, but I wanted God to “prove” himself. At the time, I’m not sure I was aware of the motivation behind this desire, but upon looking back, I’m confident this was the motive behind it.
If I could just experience a miracle, then I would never doubt. It would be a “one-and-done” kind of thing. The Christian life would be easy! How could I turn away if I saw a blind man healed, or if I was the leper touched by the very hand of God? Or even just a tiny tip from Heaven in the form of an epic dream, like Joseph experienced, but instead of it being about Egypt and its famines, it enables me to determine if I should be a famous actor, a brain surgeon, or a rocket engineer; Is that too much to ask?
We should be careful asking for miracles. When we read the story of Lazarus, Jesus lets him die. Then Jesus raises him from the dead. Within a few verses, we discover that being the honorary recipient of the healing power of God comes with liabilities. Now, Lazarus is a target of a group of conspirators plotting to kill Jesus! In short, we learn that Lazarus was safer dead, rather than alive!
When we read the lives of the Church’s saints, a pattern emerges. They have a unique encounter with God, but they are also asked to suffer in excruciating ways. The Light of Heaven they experience on Earth is the same light that casts the shadow of the cross God will ask them to carry. Mary, the saint of saints, also embodies this relationship between the grace of miracles and the suffering that comes with them.
In the Gospel of Luke, it’s revealed that the most privileged creature in all creation, the Mother of God, is the Virgin Mary. She is overshadowed by the Holy Spirit, carries the Son of God, and enters into full submission to the Father, “Let it be done according to your word.” This prayer will be echoed by her Son in the Garden of Gethsemane. Of all the creatures in history, only Mary was privileged to raise the Son of God and teach him what it meant to be a godly man.1
Yet, Mary is also the only person of whom it is written, “…And a sword will pierce your own soul as well!” (Lk. 2:35, NET). What kind of pain does a pierced soul experience? Whatever it may mean, the suffering that she experienced is as unique as her place in the Kingdom of Heaven. Her role is totally unique, and her suffering is utterly exceptional.
We should be grateful for our hidden lives. But if God calls us from our hidden lives the way he called Lazarus from the tomb, we should respond with the obedience of Lazarus, rise, take up our cross, and follow Christ. As we cross the threshold of our shadowy cave and enter into the light of the world, the first words on our lips should be, “Here I am, Lord. Let it be done to me according to your will.”
— DR
Joseph most certainly had an impact on Jesus as the foster father. But his hidden life makes his marks on Christ’s life less clear or, for lack of a better term, hidden. Regardless, Mary is the most privileged creature in all of creation. She is the only creature who can say of Jesus, “You are bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh.”