YouTube: The Mystery of Mary
Among the many symbols woven through the Gospel narratives, few are as profound—and as misunderstood—as Mary. In the mystical tradition, Mary represents far more than a historical figure. She is the soul itself: receptive, expectant, open to the divine without the intervention of the intellect. Her story is the story of every awakening consciousness.
Joseph, in this symbolism, is the intellect—capable, orderly, and essential in its place, yet ultimately limited in its ability to perceive the movements of Spirit. Mary conceives without Joseph because the deepest spiritual realizations do not arise from analysis or reason. They emerge from silence, from the inner chamber where the soul listens without effort and receives without strain.
This is the mystery of the virgin birth: a consciousness that becomes still enough, uncluttered enough, to let the divine seed take root. It is not about intense study. This birth is the transformation that begins when the mind stops trying to think its way into God and instead becomes receptive to an inner knowing already present.
Every spiritual journey begins with a moment like Mary’s: an inward stirring, an unexpected clarity, a quiet “yes” that arises before we can explain or justify it. The intellect may protest—Joseph “was troubled” for good reason—but the soul knows. It senses the movement of something holy within, something that cannot be managed or controlled.
Mary’s response is the model of all mystics: “Let it be unto me according to thy word.” She does not demand understanding; she offers availability. She becomes the willing vessel in which Spirit can express itself freely.
When we enter silence—true silence—we step into this same receptive posture. Thoughts settle, expectations soften, and something deeper begins to speak. Not in sentences, but in assurance. Not in arguments, but in the sense of something greater at work.
Awareness of the soul, the biblical Christ, is born in us the same way: not by intellectual effort, but by intuitive-readiness. Not by striving, but by surrender. The mystery of Mary is the reminder that the divine does not depend on our reasoning to take form. It depends on our willingness to be still, to open, to receive.
And in that receptive moment, something luminous awakens—quietly, naturally, inevitably—within the depths of the soul.
J Douglas Bottorff 