What Did Mary Know and When Did She Know It?

Posted by Steven D. Greydanus on Thursday Dec 24th, 2015 at 12:52 PM

Your ultimate resource on the “Mary, Did You Know?” controversy!

[Original text by Greydanus in black.  Feedback and response in blue.]

It’s the most wonderful time of the year!

’Tis the season of social media memes of Saint Nicholas punching Arius in the face, outrage over the latest corporate disses to the season, and another round of controversy over the lyrics of “Mary, Did You Know?”

I kid, I kid. I shared a Saint Nicholas punching Arius meme myself this year (although the zeal some seem to have for theological punching does give me pause). As for “Mary, Did You Know?”, I have no brief one way or the other. I’m not a fan or a non-fan; I can’t even say I’ve so much as heard the song one time.

Out of curiosity, I did Google the lyrics. I understand the controversy. The song is typically Protestant in sensibility, without the Marian piety of Catholic hymnody and spirituality, emphasizing Mary’s ordinariness rather than her extraordinariness. 

That’s not necessarily a problem — Mary was both ordinary and extraordinary, as was her Son — but the song rubs many Catholics the wrong way less because of any particular line than the general feeling that it seems to be essentially asking, “Hey, Mary, did you know your Son wasn’t just some random kid?” On the most hostile reading, some have even accused the song of heresy, though that’s clearly a bridge too far.

Obviously, the idea that Mary was simply in the dark about her Son’s identity and mission is obviously a nonstarter. Among other things, Mary knew not only

1.what she heard from Gabriel at the Annunciation (Luke 1:26–38), but also

2.what the angel told Joseph in his dream, presumably (Matthew 1:18–25);

3.what Elizabeth told Mary by the Holy Spirit at the Visitation (Luke 1:39–56);

4.what Gabriel told Zechariah about his own son John, presumably (Luke 1:5–23);

5.what the shepherds told Mary at the Nativity they heard from the heavenly host (Luke 2:8–20); and

6.what Simeon and Anna told Mary at the Presentation in the Temple (Luke 2:22–38).

That’s before Jesus was two months old, before we even get to the Magi and Joseph’s dreams that save Jesus from Herod and bring the Holy Family to live in Nazareth.  Yes, the idea that Mary was in the dark in a “nonstarter.”  She obviously knew something of the nature and mission of her child.

We are also told that Mary was overshadowed by the Holy Spirit, and are twice told that she “kept all these things, pondering them in her heart” (Luke 2:19, 51). She thought about them long and deeply — and her Magnificat shows that she had deep insight into what God was doing in her.  Yes, her Magnificat reveals that she knew very well that God was doing “great things” for her and through her for the good of the world.

On the other hand, nothing in divine revelation or Catholic tradition obliges us to believe that the Virgin Mary could have given a precise account of Trinitarian theology, the Hypostatic Union, and so forth, [such terminology and understanding didn’t even come to humanity until the 3^rd Century, with the theologian/philosopher Tertullian] much less that she had complete and exact foreknowledge of his entire ministry, including his passion, death and resurrection. (She did know, via Simeon, that “a sword” would pierce through her own soul.)

We do know that Mary and Jesus weren’t always on exactly the same page; their exchange at the finding in the Temple shows that much.  Good and true insight from a reading of Scripture.

Avoiding both extremes, then, I see no reason why we can’t wonder, within limits, what Mary knew and when she knew it. Since the lyrics of “Mary, Did You Know?” are mostly posed as questions rather than declarations, I’m generally inclined to give it the benefit of the doubt. This doesn’t mean I’m a huge fan of the song — obviously I’m not — but I don’t see a reason to consider it offensive either.

But let’s look a bit more closely at what the song actually asks. The first line asks:  Mary, did you know that your Baby Boy would one day walk on water?  Later lines ask similar questions:

Mary, did you know that your Baby Boy will give sight to a blind man?

Mary, did you know that your Baby Boy will calm the storm with His hand?

Is there any reason to suppose that Mary had specific foreknowledge of miracles like Jesus’ walking on water and calming of the storm? I see no reason to make a point of contention over this.

We might possibly put giving sight to the blind in a different category, along with the miracles referenced in these lines:

The blind will see

The deaf will hear

The dead will live again.

The lame will leap

The dumb will speak

The praises of The Lamb.

This is a paraphrase of Isaiah 35:5–6 (though Isaiah doesn’t mention the dead living again). Isaiah also speaks about “opening the eyes that are blind” in chapter 42, which begins, “Behold my servant, whom “Behold my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my Spirit upon him, he will bring forth justice to the nations…”

When Jesus began his ministry, he read from Isaiah 61, which, as Luke renders it from the Septuagint, says,

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

 because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor.

 He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives

 and recovering of sight to the blind,

 to set at liberty those who are oppressed,

 to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord. (Luke 4:18–19)

The Jewish people of Jesus’ day looked forward to the coming of the kingdom of God, when all would be set right. The oppressed would be liberated, the blind would see, the dead would live again, and the Lord would rule over all the nations, which would turn from their idols to serve the God of Israel.  The Jews were, specifically, expecting a military and political messiah who would be strong and powerful, able to cast out the enemies of Israel.  As we know, they’re still waiting for such a messiah today.

Did Mary have reason to believe that her Son would usher in the kingdom of God? The song asks this too:  Mary, did you know that your Baby Boy would one day rule the nations?

Here the answer is clearer. At the Annunciation Mary was told of her Son:

“He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High;

 and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David,

 and he will reign over the house of Jacob for ever;

 and of his kingdom there will be no end.” (Luke 1:32–33)

This seems clear enough — even before Mary learned from the shepherds that the angels had acclaimed her son “Christ the Lord,” and from Simeon that not only was Jesus “set for the fall and rising of many in Israel,” but also that in him God had prepared “a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to thy people Israel.”

All of this is clearly messianic, kingdom-of-God language. To be the Son of the Most High, to reign forever in a kingdom without end, is to be the Messiah and to usher in the kingdom of God.  But—and this is important—the Jews did not expect God himself to be the Messiah.  And so, talk of Jesus as “the Christ, the Messiah” does not necessarily mean that Mary (or any other Jew at the time) knew Jesus to be God himself.  Today we equate “Messiah/Christ” with “God.”  Such a thought at the time of Mary would have been quite foreign. 

This, in turn, might be reason enough for Mary to link passages like Isaiah 35 and 61 to her Son, and to suspect that the promise of the blind seeing and the lame walking would indeed be fulfilled in him.  Again, in the time of the birth of Christ, the prophesied messiah who heals was not equated with God himself.  On a side note, “healing” and “the kingdom” are meshed together in the words and public ministry of Jesus.  Never, in the whole of the Gospel of Luke, does Jesus speak about “the kingdom” without also speaking about “healing.”  The two are clearly related, but this wasn’t brought out so clearly and firmly until Jesus was in his 30s.   

But that’s not all Mary knew.

Things are clearer still when we come to the second line of the song:

Mary, did you know that your Baby Boy would save our sons and daughters?

Here the answer is definitely yes. Mary knew her Son would bring salvation.

To begin with, Joseph knew. The angel told him in his dream that he would “save his people from their sins.” Presumably Joseph told Mary about his dream (at least, I can’t think why he wouldn’t, or how else the story would be likely to have survived for Matthew to hear it).  Regardless of whether or not Joseph told her, Mary knew that Jesus would “save his people from their sins” simply on the basis of Jesus’ name, which means “God saves.”  This was a further expectation of the Jews of the Messiah—that he would “save the people from their sins.”  But, again, was Mary equating in her mind and heart “the Messiah” and “God himself?”  Again, Jews were not expecting the Messiah to be God himself—not even the Messiah who saves the people from their sins. 

Mary also heard from the shepherds that her Son had been acclaimed “Savior” as well as “Christ the Lord” by a multitude of the heavenly host. From Simeon she heard “mine eyes have seen thy salvation.”  See above. 

Did Mary know that Jesus would be her own Savior?

Did you know that your Baby Boy has come to make you new?

This Child that you delivered will soon deliver you.

Catholics believe that Mary was preserved from all sin from the first moment of her conception. This — and not the virginal conception of Jesus — is the Immaculate Conception. But we also believe that Jesus is Mary’s Savior, and that the Immaculate Conception is not an exception to Christ’s work of redemption, but its greatest fruit. (N.b. The line “This Child that you delivered will soon deliver you” does not contradict the Immaculate Conception; see the combox for more.)  Yes, Catholics believe that Mary’s Immaculate Conception is a sign of her having been “saved” by Christ even before he came in the flesh. 

Did Mary understand that her Son would be her own Savior? Certainly she connected what God was doing in her with her own salvation. At the Visitation, responding to Elizabeth’s joyful greeting and hailing her as “the mother of my Lord,” Mary sings in the Magnificat:

My soul magnifies the Lord,

and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,

for he has regarded the low estate of his handmaiden.

For behold, henceforth all generations will call me blessed;

for he who is mighty has done great things for me,

and holy is his name.

Clearly, she (and all good Jews) knew God to be her one and only Savior.  And she saw her “lowliness” and the child in her womb as the means of her own (and others’) salvation.  But her Magnificat doesn’t reveal that she knew God himself to be the means of salvation.  There is an unwarranted leap in the argument that says: God is the Savior; Jesus saves; therefore, Jesus is God.  Obviously, I believe firmly that Jesus is the Son of God, Second Person of the Trinity.  But, from the standpoint of logical argument, the question is open: Is Jesus the one who saves (i.e., God), or the means of salvation?  (As we know, he is both.  But did Mary know that?)   

Perhaps the most important and mysterious question is what Mary understood regarding Jesus’ divinity.

Did you know that your Baby Boy has walked where angels trod?

When you kiss your little Baby you kissed the face of God?

Mary, did you know that your Baby Boy is Lord of all creation?

Did you know that your Baby Boy is heaven’s perfect Lamb?

The sleeping Child you're holding is the Great I Am.

At the Annunciation Mary was told — twice — that he would be “the Son of the Most High,” “the Son of God.” By itself, though, this doesn’t settle the question. “Son of God” in the Old Testament had many meanings, one of them including “messiah” or “Davidic king.”  Very true.  There were many “sons of God” and “sons of god” running around at the time, both Jewish and non-Jewish.  It’s not a unique title.

Gabriel does develop the idea of Jesus’ divine Sonship in another direction: Mary’s Son will be called “Son of God” precisely because he will be conceived by the Holy Spirit, without the involvement of a human father. That’s still not an affirmation of Jesus’ eternal, divine Sonship, but it gets us closer.  Two things to keep in mind here.  First, the Jewish monotheistic view of God was such that the idea of a “Second Person of a Trinity” would’ve been nonsensical; God was God—one and only.  And, second, at this time in history, the idea of a human mother and a divine father (or vice versa) wasn’t new; just consider all the Greek, Roman, and Egyptian gods and their half-human, half-divine children (e.g., Pharaoh, Apollo, Achilles, Helen, Hercules, etc).  Likewise, the eternity of Jesus’ reign is not ordinary messiah-language, but doesn’t automatically make Jesus God.  The Davidic line was supposed to be forever, but that didn’t make King David divine either.

After Gabriel’s words to Mary, the next most important are those spoken by Elizabeth under the Holy Spirit:

Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb!

And why is this granted me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?

“Mother of my Lord” is widely understood to anticipate Mary’s title Theotokos or Mother of God.  The Greek “μήτηρ τοῦ Κυρίου μου” means, literally, “mother of the Lord of me.”  “Mother” is in the sense of a human mother.  And “Lord” [τοῦ Κυρίου] is the standard word in Greek for “Lord” (this is akin to Spanish-speakers today using “Señor” in reference to both the Lord God and the male head of a household).  The Greek “Θεοτόκος” [Theotokos] means, “God-bearer.”  “Mother of my Lord” and “God-bearer” are not synonymous; not in English nor Greek.  While it may not be impossible to interpret “my Lord” here as a reference to Jesus’ messianic status and human kingship, I see no reason to limit Elizabeth’s insight in this way if we wish to take seriously not only the inspiration of sacred scripture, but also the Holy Spirit on Elizabeth herself.  According to the inspired words of Sacred Scripture (and not our human assumptions and the benefit of hindsight), Elizabeth’s insight is precisely that Mary is “μήτηρ τοῦ Κυρίου μου” [mother of my Lord].  Clearly, Elizabeth’s words show that that she understands the infant in Mary’s womb to be singularly unique (after all, an unborn baby as a “Lord”?).  Elizabeth’s words anticipate Mary’s eventual title of “Mother of God.”  And that’s just it: the words anticipate.  The “reason to limit Elizabeth’s insight” is because she is a limited human being.  For all human beings there is a limit to our wisdom; we are not the omniscient God, even with the generous help of the Holy Spirit.  Elizabeth anticipates.

And if Elizabeth had an intimation of Mary as Theotokos, surely Mary did also.  This is a factually false statement, in comparison to Sacred Scripture.  Elizabeth had an intimation of Mary as “μήτηρ τοῦ Κυρίου μου” [mother of my Lord], not of Mary as “Θεοτόκος” [Theotokos, or “God-bearer”].  These two descriptions of Mary are not synonymous; nor is “Θεοτόκος” ever heard on the lips of Elizabeth in Scripture.  Mary knew she was “μήτηρ τοῦ Κυρίου μου,” mother of [the] Lord, which is not to say she knew herself as “Θεοτόκος,” the bearer of God.  Of course, this is not to say that Mary didn’t know her child was to be unique in the world.  The circumstances of the child’s conception, birth, and youth indicate as much; Mary knew Jesus was unique, but how so?    

The divinity of Christ is a mystery, and exactly how Mary understood or would have articulated that mystery is a question the New Testament doesn’t fully answer.  Absolutely correct.  The New Testament does not fully answer the question of Mary’s understanding.  It remains a question.  Although, it’s clear that she grows in understanding (and far surpassed our own understanding today of Jesus as God).  On some level, though, I think we have to say Mary knew who Jesus was.  On some level, clearly.  But on what level?

She carried him for nine months, and she alone knew beyond any possibility of doubt that there was no human father.  True, and she knew as much even at the annunciation by Gabriel.

Her Fiat, her “Yes” to God, was a moment of singular grace. Without Mary’s “Yes,” the Incarnation would not have taken place. Mary would not unwillingly become the mother of God, nor would Mary’s Fiat have been meaningful if she hadn’t understood what she was consenting to.  On the contrary, if Mary’s fiat was based on full knowledge and understanding of who her child was, then her fiat would have been precisely emptied of its meaning.  Her “yes” to God was, indeed, a moment of singular grace.  But her fiat is a statement of perfect faith in the unknown Will of God, not a statement of perfect confidence in her own understanding of the Will and Plan of God—even if her understanding was a grace from God.  If we say “yes” to something—the details and outcome of which we already know perfectly, no faith is required.  The “yes,” therefore, is not especially outstanding or meaningful. 

On an important side note, this is why we don’t say Jesus “had faith” (even though some hymns mention “the faith of Jesus;” they’re theology incorrect).  Jesus the Son of God knew and understood fully what the Will and Plan of God the Father was; he knew the Cross would come.  But because he knew, that doesn’t mean his “yes” to the Father’s Will was meaningless; in just means he didn’t act in faith; rather, he acted in love.  In spite of his knowledge of the truth, he acted in love.  And so, with Jesus’ “yes,” we celebrate the triumph of love.  With Mary’s “yes,” we celebrate the triumph of faith and hope.  Mary didn’t know fully what she was consenting to, nor did she know fully (to begin with) who the child in her womb was—that’s why her fiat is a triumph of faith and hope.  And that’s why we celebrate and venerate her.    

When Mary said “Yes,” she knew what it meant.  See the comment above.  She knew that she had been chosen for an ineffable privilege [Yes, very definitely.  That’s why in her Magnificat she recognizes herself as “blessed,” and knows that generations will sing of her blessedness]; she also knew, I suspect, that she was consenting to unsupportable sorrow.  God did not foist that on her either; when Simeon told her of the sword that would pierce her soul, I doubt he was telling her anything she didn’t already know.  The notion that Mary knew of her future suffering even before Simeon told her goes directly contrary to what is revealed in Sacred Scripture.  When Simeon speaks, Mary and Joseph are “θαυμάζοντες” [Greek translated as “amazed” in the NABRE].  The word “θαυμάζοντες” means “to wonder, to marvel, to be awestruck,” and especially has the connotation of “beginning to speculate.”  Scripture reveals that Mary and Joseph are struck with information and wisdom about Jesus (and Mary) which they need to digest.  The author of the article makes an unwarranted and even false claim when he says, “I doubt [Simeon] was telling [Mary] anything she didn’t already know.”  The revelation of Scripture, and a reading of the Greek, says otherwise.

Of course, this is not to deflate the good and just veneration of our Blessed Mother.  On the contrary, her perfect fiat—given in faith and hope in an unknown plan—is the very reason we venerate her.  It’s the kind of faith and hope we want to emulate.        

She knew. [. . . something of the nature of her son, very definitely.]  She knew everything that others had told her.  And she had perfect faith and hope given her by God.  She most definitely knew that the birth of her son would be world-changing.  But did she grasp that Jesus was God himself?  Scripture leaves that question open; although, it would be safe to say that, in time, she came to know her son Jesus as the Son of God.  Perhaps this was at the foot of the Cross, or at Pentecost, or when she was assumed in Heaven.  Whenever it was, she came to know.

The point of the homily, however, is not to answer a theological question about Mary; the point is to ask ourselves if we really know who Jesus is?  If we really do, then why don’t we give him more attention, more love, more of our faith and hope?  If we really know who Jesus is, then why can our celebrations of Mass be so uninspired and flat?  If we really know who Jesus is, then why are we not amazed at the very thought that we—limited and faulty human beings—can speak directly with God himself?  Do we really know who Jesus is?