The Best Christmas Lessons Ever – Nobody Has A Right To Play Mary

And Mary said: “My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. Luke 1:46-48

We’ve all heard of people having a Messiah Complex. These are the folks who think that they’re God’s gift to save the world as if Jesus wasn’t quite up to the task. It seems that little Miss Alice Wendleken had a Mary Complex. In The Best Christmas Pageant Ever she had been playing the part of Mary in the annual Christmas pageant for so long that she thought she was entitled to it. What’s worse, she even believed that the whole Christmas story was primarily about Alice, I mean Mary, rather than Jesus. How sad.

But is it any less sad when our own Mary Complex kicks in and we start pushing people around to advance our own cause? Hardly. While we may not demand top billing in the Christmas play, we’re going to make sure that nobody horns in on our turf. The same goes for the Josephs of the world. They can have their own battles with grandiosity which aren’t any better than what the Marys struggle with.

Strange though, the real Mary and Joseph didn’t seem to have a complex. Rather than trying to force their way to the top of the Christmas pageant pecking order, you see two people who knew who they were and what part they had to play in God’s great redemptive drama. They understood that their life’s calling was based on grace not merit.

Not so for Alice Wendleken. I’m not entirely sure why she believed she was entitled to the role of Mary in the church Christmas pageant. Perhaps she thought of herself as being more Marylike than the other girls in the church. Or maybe it was because she had done it for such a long time that she sort of thought of herself as being Mary.

Whatever the case may be, she certainly believed she was a better choice than Imogene Herdman. If ever there was a person on the earth who wouldn’t qualify to play the role of Mary, it would be Imogene. Attila the Hun would have been a better choice, and he was a guy. So as far as Alice was concerned, it was a no-brainer. She should be Mary. And that’s was all there was to it.

I tell you, you get the impression that Alice Wendleken would have been perfectly content whether or not the baby Jesus was on the stage just so long as she got to be Mary. After all, any baby would do. Even Imogene Herdman knew that. But the important thing was to pick the right Mary. And Alice was the right Mary. She knew her lines. She knew how to follow her cues. And most of all she knew not to smoke cigars and talk about Mary being pregnant. It’s great with child; thank you very much.

The problem, of course, was that Alice was making the entire production all about Alice, I mean Mary. Whatever. You just get the impression that Alice hoped that the spotlight would stay on her and that in the end the reviews of the pageant would speak mainly of her and how wonderfully she had played the all-important role of Mary. It was fine to mention that the Perkins baby played Jesus as long as they mainly talked about who played Mary. Amazing. A Christmas pageant celebrating the birth of Jesus, and you’ve got Mary trying to upstage him.

How refreshingly different the real Mary was. When she was called to be the mother of Jesus, she didn’t view it as something that she had earned or deserved. In fact, she was a bit hesitant at first viewing herself as being unworthy of such a responsibility. And in a sense she was. I mean who would be worthy to raise the Son of God? Nobody.

But then again, that’s not how the process worked. Like it is with everything in God’s kingdom, His choice of Mary was a choice of grace not merit. It had nothing to do with her pedigree or her standing in the religious community. No, by grace God simply selected an unknown, peasant girl for one of the most incredible assignments in the history of the world. And Mary accepted that assignment with a spirit of great humility.

And she maintained that humble spirit throughout the entire experience. For instance, we don’t see her standing before the innkeeper making demands like, “What do you mean you don’t have room in the inn? Don’t you know who I am? I’m Mary from Nazareth, and I’m about to give birth to the Son of God. If you don’t want to be ridiculed for next 2,000 years in countless Christmas pageants for being the cruel man who turned me away, then you had better make room for me. You got that bub?”

Alice might have acted like that. Imogene would have probably punched the guy. But not Mary. She knew that she didn’t have anymore of a right to a place in the inn than any of the other travelers who had been forced into Bethlehem because of the census. So with humility she accepted the stable as the gracious provision by the same God who had called her to this role in the first place.

That’s how we need to view our life’s calling whatever it may be. Whether we’re called to play a major up-front role in life or be more of a backstage helper, we need to recognize that God’s grace is the thing that’s brought us to it. We’re not better than anybody else or worse. We’re simply the benefactors of God’s gracious choice. And we should act like it.

So do you see yourself being more like Mary or Alice? Do you find yourself often demanding your rights, getting your way, pushing your own agenda, basically running over people to make sure that your voice is heard? If so, then you may need to take another look at Mary. If anyone had a right to be self-promoting, it was her. But she didn’t. And neither should we. It’s another one of the best Christmas lessons ever.