Born of the Virgin Mary.” So reads the earliest creed that is recited in thousands of churches every Sunday. But when we say the creed, do we believe what it says or do we simply pay tribute to what others believed in bygone days? Can we still give intellectual and theological assent to it? Have we penetrated beyond the mystery of the Bible’s affirmation and know now that it is fiction rather than fact? Or is the Virgin Birth so dynamically related to the incarnation truth that in Jesus God became flesh and dwelt among us that to abandon the miracle of the birth is to abandon the fact and the mystery of the incarnation?
God indeed has chosen to work out the divine will in a variety of strange ways that defy our imaginations and perplex us. He created Adam without benefit of either father or mother. He created Eve out of man without benefit of woman. He made Jesus out of woman without benefit of human father. And he makes us out of fathers and mothers. In three of these four ways we face the supernatural, the miraculous that is a characteristic of divine operations. It constitutes an assault on the empirical mind. It is an insult to the intelligences of men whose eyes cannot perceive the divine working and whose hearts are stonily in opposition to any intervention that destroys effectively a uniformitarianism that they think cannot be superseded by God. Such it has been and always will be. Hosts of people shall forever rise to acclaim the fact of the Virgin Birth, even as other hosts unceasingly deny it.
Long before Mary gave birth to Jesus, God was preparing for that event in manifold ways. No sooner had Adam sinned than God began his salvatory plan: “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her seed; he shall bruise your head and you shall bruise his heel” (Gen. 3:15). Later it was said that the sceptre should rise out of Judah (see Gen. 49:10 and Num. 24:17). Isaiah proclaimed that a “virgin shall conceive and bring forth a son” (Isa. 7:14). Micah said that the Messiah should be born in Bethlehem (Micah 5:2). Isaiah prophesied that he would be despised and rejected of men and would be crucified. But he also stated that Messiah would bear our griefs and carry our sorrows (Isa. 53). The psalmist foretold the word of desolation that would come from the Redeemer’s lips in his dying agony: “My God, why hast thou forsaken me?” (Ps. 22:1).
The prophetic word begins to find fulfillment centuries later in the tiny and despised city of Nazareth. A teen-age girl finds among her companions one young man on whom her heart’s affections are set. Eagerly they plan for their forthcoming marriage. The betrothal is arranged. It cannot be broken unless a bill of divorce be given to break their covenant. But they have not yet consummated their betrothal by going to the marriage bed. Eagerly they yearn for that moment when they shall become one flesh according to the promise of their God. And they look for what was the hope of every Jewish maiden—that babies would adorn their relationship and sons would rise to bear their father’s name. Both came from the Davidic line, a line that had sunk into nothingness (a root out of a dry ground) and from which, humanly speaking, nothing could be expected.
Into this idyllic paradise as of yet unfashioned and unfulfilled human hopes there comes the divine word, a word that contains magnificent promise but also carries with it that which could dash every hope and lead to consequences that would dismay young and even older hearts. Surely every date with destiny contains within it the seeds of glory and of disaster. Which will it be?
God sends his angel, a messenger with tidings that will change the fashion of the whole world. He comes to Mary with a challenge that calls for her whole-hearted acceptance. He comes with a word that no maiden had ever heard before, a word that no virgin shall ever hear again. It is a once-for-all event in the history of the human race, a non-repeatable experience that shakes the foundations of the sceptics, invades the dark domain of the empiricist and demands a faith response by all who shall after the blessed event be called upon to affirm or to deny it with all of the chilling or thrilling consequences that are bound to follow.
Gabriel, one of the three angels whose names are recorded in sacred writ, comes to Nazareth and stands before the virgin. He brings a word of divine greeting from his master. His first word is encouraging and helpful but awe-inspiring. “Thou art the favored one,” he says. “Behold, the Lord God almighty is with you” (See here Luke 1:26–29). But Mary cannot grasp the meaning of this strange prelude. She cannot yet know what words will follow or what demands will be made. Her troubled state is made known to us by Luke who paints for us a picture of a maiden whose mind cannot fathom the meaning of the angel’s greeting. “But she was greatly troubled at the saying, and considered in her mind what sort of greeting this might be” (Luke 1:29). But Gabriel hurries on to fulfill his commission.
Gabriel’s word thrills her heart and sends spasms of rapture over her soul. “Fear not,” he says. How glorious is that calming word! “You have found favor with God.” Who would not be moved by that assurance? Whose heart would not leap at the knowledge that God has taken notice of him or her? And favor can mean no less than acceptance by God in a saving relationship that cancels out sin, and leads to an intimate fellowship sealed by the word of a God who cannot lie.
The angel says that God’s favor has to do with God’s plan for the world. The Virgin Mary, he says, will conceive a son in her womb and she will call him Jesus. This one whom she shall bear shall be different from all who have ever been born. He will be great; he will be called the Son of the Most High. He shall sit on the throne of his father David and he shall rule over the house of Jacob forever. He shall have a kingdom, unlike that of David’s, which has been interrupted and his kingship destroyed. This kingdom shall last forever.
Breathlessly the virgin hears these glorious words. But how can this be? She has never known a man. She is a pure lass who waits for Joseph to fulfill his vow and make her his own. Who would not be caught unprepared by this message and who can say what reply should be made? She waits expectantly for the angel to answer her question: “How can this be?” Indeed we must ask also and in the same spirit: “How can it be?”
Gabriel’s response is bathed in mystery and leaves us with a true answer the scope of which it is difficult for us to comprehend. The end of the divine action we do understand. The baby will be called “the son of God” and that he was and is. But the mystery lies in those fateful words. “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.” Gabriel’s answer was not given in response to Mary’s unbelief. This we can be sure of. It was a reply given to an earnest inquiry. Following the answer to this question would come the moment when Mary herself would have to make a response. God never forces people into situations without their own acceptance and decision. Well may we in all ages since the incarnation ask: “What would have happened if Mary had said no to God?” This she could well have done. It is inconceivable to think the Holy Spirit would have come upon this virgin and violated her integrity without her consent.
The angel bears further witness to this maiden when he reminds her of the miracle performed on behalf of her kinswoman Elizabeth. She was beyond the age of childbearing and yet God performed a miracle and gave to her that which was denied to other women of like age. And what God had done for Elizabeth God could do in another way for Mary. And this he would do if she consented to participate in the divine plan for the salvation of men. What would her answer be?
Everywhere Scripture proclaims that believers walk by faith and not by sight. Abraham was called to leave family, friends, and native land to go to a place he had never seen, and his wife would give birth to a son they could hardly expect at their age. But he went out, not knowing whither he was going. Faith came before sight. But faith was not denied, nor had it any occasion to be ashamed. So was it also with Mary. This lassie in simplicity of faith, discounting all of the ominous possibilities that might flow from her decision, cries out: “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord.” Great is her faith and greater still her commitment. So she adds the final words of complete submission. “Let it be to me according to your word.” And once the decision was made there was no turning back. Events begin to occur that will shake the very foundations of heaven and hell. The scene for the incarnation is set and the drama will go on. But what about young Joseph? Where does he fit into the scheme of things and how will Mary explain that which even we today cannot always understand?
The story about Joseph comes from the pen of Matthew, not from Luke. The account is brief indeed but filled with pathos. Matthew states the facts in such a way that had they found their way into a modern newspaper it would have caused a community uproar. He says: “Before they came together, she was found to be with child of the Holy Spirit” (Matt. 1:18). Mary was pregnant out of wedlock. She was, in terms of the understanding of that day, guilty of adultery. Joseph, faced with his problem, hurt by the knowledge of her seeming infidelity, scarce knows what to do. Should he appear before the elders and call down upon this girl he loved the imprecations of the townsmen? Should he demand that the full penalty of the law be executed and Mary stoned to death? Here love and a sense of betrayal are mingled together as he contemplates that which he never expected would come into his life. He is an innocent bystander, caught up in something beyond his ability to see through.
Imagine for a moment how Mary must have told Joseph of the strange happenings in her life. She knew what it was all about. She could remember how the Holy Spirit came upon her and how the baby was conceived in her womb. But how could she prove it? How could she avoid being dealt with as a harlot? Never was a woman so dignified by what God had done; never, never was a woman placed in such a position of danger. She committed her cause unto the one who judges righteously and trusted her God to save her good name. Fortunately for her the man she loved was not like their ancestor, Judah. When his daughter-in-law was found with child out of wedlock he called for her to be brought forth and to be burned (Gen. 38:24). Joseph may indeed have been a kindly person and put the best construction upon the happening. He seems to have supposed that she had been forced in some field and had cried out when no help was available (see Deut. 22:26). This freed her from the stigma of harlotry but left her with the babe in her womb. He will put her away. He will give her a bill of divorcement. He will witness before two witnesses and bring an end to this ugly affair. He will free himself to look elsewhere for solace to cleanse the stain and bring soothing balm to his injured spirit. But God intervenes in Joseph’s life and brings good out of what appears to be the unseemly side of life.
An angel of God comes to Joseph’s side while he sleeps. He brings a word of explanation and calls upon Joseph to submit himself to the will of God and become the divine ally in the incarnation of God’s Son. His word is plain: “What is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit.” Wonder of wonders, she is no harlot. Her life is pure and her body undefiled. God has wrought in her a wondrous miracle and the seed implanted is the seed that guarantees that the baby shall be very God of very God even as he shall be very man of very man nourished in the virgin’s womb. “Do not fear to take Mary your wife.” Shelter her beneath the shroud of your own marriage commitment. Rejoice in what God is doing through her. Be the protector of the virgin. Indeed he shall be called the son of Joseph by the townspeople. But Joseph shall hide the secret of his birth deep in his own heart. He will share Mary’s dignity and suffer her agony too. He rejoices that she shall bring forth the Saviour. He thanks God that his name shall be Jesus. He catches the glimpse of the greatness of the incarnation so beautifully expressed in this Virgin Birth: Jesus shall save men from their sins.
Joseph does not delay. He does not dispute. He does not disobey. In an act of obedience quite similar to that of Mary he embraces the divine directive and puts the shelter of sanctity over her head: he takes her to be his wife but he knows her not until she gives birth to her firstborn son. And in doing so the prophetic Scriptures are fulfilled. The Messiah was born of the Virgin Mary. He was called the Son of God. Indeed he is Immanuel which means God with us. By the light of nature we see God above us. By the light of the law we see God against us. By the light of the Gospel we see Jesus as Immanuel who is God with us. Glorious truth this is that will never be eclipsed.
‘Tis a mystery indeed. But it is not a fairy tale. It is part of the warp and the woof of divine revelation. It is a touchstone of the Christian faith. Other doctrines can be misunderstood and devalued, but this cannot. It reveals our confidence in the supernatural; it testifies to the wonder of the incarnation; it fixes for us the historicity of the fulness of time. It becomes for the early church an indispensable necessity to make this confession before submitting to baptism. It is an unalterable and essential part of Christian belief.
Sceptics and apostates have questioned and denied the account of Jesus’ conception and birth. Some claim that the idea gave rise to its formulation in the gospels as an afterthought to explain what men believed. But we who walk by faith believe that the fact of the Virgin Birth of Jesus gave rise to the inscripturated accounts of that birth. We believe it because it happened. And it happened because God intervened and brought to pass that which is mystery and truth. And in it all we see in the babe of Bethlehem the Lord of glory at whose feet we fall and to whom we pay homage now and forevermore. Blessed be the season of the year when once again we remind ourselves God has tabernacled among us and we have beheld his glory. For we know who the Father is because we have seen his Son who has perfectly revealed the Father to us. Hallelujah.
Some Good Tricks
Pharoah’s magicians
knew some good tricks,
but God gave Moses more
& his serpent swallowed
their illusory sticks.
When Moses & Aaron
changed water to blood,
all Jannes & Jambres could do
was further redden the flood.
All Egypt’s dust flew up, stung,
& Egypt’s magic was wrung dry;
the bleeding Nile gave birth
to frogs in stinking piles;
Egypt’s gods snorted, bellowed,
coughed & died.
Pharoah’s slaves muttered;
“These Jews would cut Hathor’s throat
& spill her blood to their god–
Apis they would slaughter & burn
on their uncouth altar. Let them
into the desert wander & there,
with flocks women & children, perish.”
Jesus also knew some good tricks,
but his, Satan’s minions
could not mimic-
when Jesus turned water red,
it was sweetest wine,
the dust Jesus raised did not sting
but healed the blind.
When Jesus made his exodus,
he did no sleight-of-hand–
the darkness he brought on the land
was fertile with new light for us.
EUGENE WARREN
D. Bruce Lockerbie is chairman of the Fine Arts department at The Stony Brook School, Stony Brook, New York. This article is taken from his 1976 lectures on Christian Life and Thought, delivered at Conservative Baptist Theological Seminary in Denver, Colorado.
