“Let it be done unto me according to your will,” Mary had said.

A real Archangel had appeared, handing out shocking news. What a jolt the Annunciation must have been for someone so unassuming, so self-effacing as Mary. Did she flinch?

No. She reacted with calm. She said simply, “I accept. Tell me how this wonderful birth will happen.”

But the series of events that followed do not seem to warrant calm. Mary became a betrothed woman found pregnant. Her husband-to-be had been about to divorce her until an angel explained things in a dream.

And since walking was the usual mode of transportation in those days, sometimes for astonishing distances, the census call did not make her promise easy. It was the last part of her pregnancy—the most difficult time of all to travel from Nazareth in the far north of Israel down to Bethlehem, which is south of Jerusalem. Not an impossible distance, but in the last month of pregnancy, a real challenge. This was God’s will and she had accepted it. Joseph in his kindness got a donkey for Mary to ride.

When they finally got to Bethlehem, a very small village, The inn had no room for them. And there is nothing in scripture about a cave. The most likely place would have been some kind of barn or stable for domestic animals, since the infant was “lying in a manger.” This birth was not bathed in satin finery, not luxurious. Jesus was born into poverty and discomfort.

This Sunday we see Mary just days after the grueling journey and the amazing birth (Gospel). She is carrying out the promise she made to Gabriel. All is well. The child is healthy and cute, and the angels, unable to contain their joy, have once more danced into Mary’s life. Even the animals understand. It is breathtaking.

It would seem that Mary’s calm would now seek some quiet and rest after all that had happened. But no. Unkempt shepherds, straight from the fields, “went in haste” to the shelter, announcing in their craggy voices that they knew who this baby is. Angels had told them. Wise men, or as we now say, kings, found the holy shelter and barged right in, bearing royal gifts.

Does this all impinge on Mary’s peace? No. She is good to her word. The Gospel says that she quietly "kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart.”

How could she do this? Part of it was her personality, of course, but even more, it was the presence of God deep within her, so deep that she let her life become one with his, and produced a son. Life on this earth is never free from hazards and setbacks and stunning difficulties, but as Mary let her heart reflect, and as she watched each movement of the newborn baby, she breathed in a holiness, a degree of holiness that even she had not known before.

   “May it be done unto me according to your will.” Her acceptance was complete.

As we witness this calm, within a crowded, difficult, surprising stable, as we keep the picture of it within our own hearts, may each of us be able to echo her words, “May it be done unto me according to your will.”