Another feature of Mary's character, closely associated with her submissiveness, is her humility. It comes out very strikingly in the Magnificat. The terms in which she speaks of herself are notable-“handmaiden” (a slave), “low estate,” “low degree,” “hungry.” These words differ as the east from the west from the terms of glorification which her idolaters have applied to her. These four words can be summed up in the one word-“humility.” There is nothing in herself of which she will or can boast; she applies to herself the lowliest possible term, “handmaiden.” The English form of this word is altogether too respectable to convey Mary's meaning; the word she used is the feminine form of that expression which in its masculine form is rendered “bond-servant.” She is His slave, bound to Him for ever.
Her humility, however, expresses itself not so much by a self-depreciation as by an utter forgetfulness of self. In this humble woman an incomparably great thing was come, but she never thought of herself in connexion with it for a moment-of herself as either worthy or even unworthy. Her soul was lifted quite away from herself, and was full of the thought of God only. Instead of deprecating, however sincerely, that so great an honour should come to her, she simply praised the Lord. “My soul doth magnify the Lord.” This is the very perfect flower of humility. There is often a self-depreciation which is just conceit in disguise; and even where this is not so, still self-depreciation is, and must be, always a thought, even if a lowly thought, of self. Perfect humility does not think about self at all. It simply accepts from God, and looks up to God, and is full of God, and praises God. This was Mary's humility. There are paintings of the Annunciation which represent Mary as utterly overpowered by holy fear at the great call, and as shrinking from it with abasement. These feelings must have been in her mind, but they were swallowed up in the thought of God; and Mary, who was troubled and fearful and struck with shame as she had thought of herself, forgot herself and thought only of God, and then sang with an untroubled joy.
It is as difficult to be humble as it is easy to despair. Despair's a very conceited thing, but I might as well hope to be Michael Angelo as to be humble. The grace of the lowliest is only given to the highest.1 [Note: Gathered Leaves from the Prose of Mary E. Coleridge, 274.]
What is the meaning of this quality of meekness or humility? Surely the ground of it is a recognition of the greatness and majesty of God. Men who have seen life under the white light of eternity will never deport themselves with the pride that marks the man to whom the world is only a mirror of his own majestic dignity. We all need to know the art of self-measurement, but that is beyond us unless we allow some place in the universe for Him who dominates great and small alike; for only His entrance into our life enables us to compute our worth by standards universally applicable.2 [Note: A. C. Hill, The Sword of the Lord, 168.]
Yes, and to her, the beautiful and lowly,
Mary a maiden, separate from men,
Camest thou nigh and didst possess her wholly,
Close to thy saints, but thou wast closer then.
Once and for ever didst thou show thy chosen,
Once and for ever magnify thy choice;-
Scorched in love's fire or with his freezing frozen,
Lift up your hearts, ye humble, and rejoice!
Not to the rich He came or to the ruling,
(Men full of meat, whom wholly He abhors,)
Not to the fools grown insolent in fooling
Most, when the lost are dying at the doors;
Nay but to her who with a sweet thanksgiving
Took in tranquillity what God might bring,
Blessed Him and waited, and within her living
Felt the arousal of a Holy Thing.
Ay for her infinite and endless honour
Found the Almighty in this flesh a tomb,
Pouring with power the Holy Ghost upon her,
Nothing disdainful of the Virgin's womb.3 [Note: F. W. H. Myers, Saint Paul.]
