May I speak in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

I read recently that psychologists think that our brains take around 35,000 conscious decisions every day, or one decision every two seconds. It’s quite an interesting statistic, one that reminds us of the extraordinary capacity of our created selves, but also of the often overwhelming burden of our responsibilities as conscious beings.

Today as we celebrate the feast of Mary, the mother of Jesus, we do above all give God thanks for the ‘yes’ of Mary to God’s call on her life. But I think we also need to give thanks, and pay attention to the way that the whole of Mary’s life is an ongoing decision to say yes, an ongoing decision to walk in the ways of obedience and truth, even at times bearing the unbearable pain of that decision.

I think we often consider Mary at the start and the end of Jesus’ life. In the drama of birth and death. We often consider her joy and her pain at these critical times in the narrative of our salvation. We think of the teenage mother, an unmarried refugee, the birth in the stable, the angels, the visitors, the beauty in the vulnerability and the unbelievable strength and power shining through this young woman bearing the saviour of the world in her young arms. We think also of the middle aged mother, her head shrouded with the veil of mourning, standing weeping at the foot of the cross, her sorrow shouldered alongside the women who stand with her in her grief.

But do we consider Mary in the middle? Mary in the ordinary? Mary raising the boy, the young man, the adult son. Mary whose unseen and undocumented decisions also testify to a life of conscious faithfulness. I believe that in times of drama and of crisis we see an exposure of what has been built in the in between times. A closer walk with God is a decision that we take not just when our life depends on it and we cry out to God, but it is a decision we take when in our spaces of ease and of liberty we choose to walk God’s ways. We choose to spend time in His word, time in prayer, time in worship and study and service. I want to say that the glimpses we get of Mary indicate the depth of her everyday faithfulness, the rootedness of her love of God, the conscious ‘yes’ of the depths of her heart to following the commandments of God.

I think when we consider the teaching of Jesus in today’s gospel we see the product of an upbringing which testifies to this ordinary faithfulness capable of bearing an extraordinary calling. What Jesus says is clearly outrageous. Leave all your relationships, give up all your possessions, and think very very hard about whether you have enough in your tank to bear the weight of the calling. I mean who is able to consider all of that and still say ‘yes, I will follow you’. It’s impossible.

But I think what Jesus is really saying is that you can never know the cost of saying ‘yes’ to God when you begin the journey. You can never imagine how your life is going to change. How all of things that you now hold dear might pale into utter insignificance as you go on this journey of following Christ, how the cost will be great but the blessings will be greater. And he has to speak in such stark and shocking language because he has to challenge his hearers to truly let go. Because there can be no relationship in our lives more precious than our relationship with Him. There can be no plan that we can make ourselves that comes close to the plans and purposes that He has for us and for His Church. There can be no house or car or holiday or pension pot or any sum of money or possession that can come close to the value of knowing Christ’s love for us, and for his promise of eternal life.

Jesus is the son of the woman who said ‘yes’. Not just once. Not just in the difficult times, but yes in the ordinary, yes in the every day. Mary knew she had nothing without the love of God. Mary knew she couldn’t control or plan her life. Mary knew that there was nothing of value that she desired except for the love of God. And Mary knew both the cost of this ‘yes’, but also the blessings. Mary lived a life which many would consider to be unthinkably dangerous and daunting and perhaps one that we would not envy.

But as we honour her today I want to commend to you her witness of righteous living, not just in the times of crisis. I think in these times it perhaps both the easiest and the hardest it has ever been to make these micro decisions in each moment to follow God’s ways. Our access to Scripture, to worship, to prayer, to spiritual literature and fellowship both in person and digitally is extraordinary. And yet the overwhelm of information that we are exposed to in a digital age, the work of marketing which promotes security in financial and material ways, the lure of an idealised, perfect life somehow free from sorrow, and the illusion of fellowship on social media which isn’t actually real, and fleshy and honest – all these things manipulative our brains and our souls into places where suddenly we turn around and find we have walked far, far, far away from God.

Mary knew the Hebrew scriptures and the exhortation from Deuteronomy to choose life. And she did that. In choosing life she found God’s faithfulness, she found God’s truth, she found God’s light. She found that love is stronger than death. She found that in the disciplines of the life of prayer there were freedoms and joys that she had never expected.

So like Mary, we must choose life. We must put our devotions to Christ higher than anything else in our lives. We must lay down our own plans and purposes and dreams, and allow the gentle whisper of the Holy Spirit to lead and guide. We must lay aside our clinging on to all that glitters and promises security, remembering that God has promised that those who meditate on his law day and night will prosper, bearing fruit in due season, with leaves that do not wither.

Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death.

Amen