What did Mary know, and when did she know it?

 Among NT scholars who treat this as serious (and not silly), I have not seen anyone frame the question as a proper historical inquiry. What expectations did the historical Mary have about her infant son, if any? That is, as opposed to the annual holiday time debate, "Does the Michael English song line up with Luke's Magnificat?" 

 ((NB: In fairness to skeptics, I find it perfectly reasonable for those who accept no miraculous claims to then further assume the historical Mary had no reason at all to expect anything special from her baby's future life. In other words, everything that follows here below assumes debate among Christian scholars. That said, my skeptic friends are certainly welcome to play along, if they are willing to stipulate various faith-based positions for the sake of argument.))

 If I had time to engage the historical question properly myself, this would be my initial plan for the project. 

 First, after surveying significant contributions to the perennial debate, I would make special note of how many verdicts have settled on the basis of Luke's text alone, and yet were thereby declared a conclusion of historical fact. Among NT scholars who (a) happen to be Christian and (b) take this annual holiday song debate seriously, I predict nearly all would provide arguments based 100% in exegesis. Furthermore, among those answering in the affirmative (e.g., "Yes, Mary knew") I predict all of them would add nothing to that exegesis except a positive judgment about historicity (*cough* personal faith commitment *cough*). Likewise, among anyone answering in the negative (e.g., "The Magnificat is a Lukan construction and therefore Mary probably didn't know), I would predict similarly that all or nearly all would also conclude their inquiry after completing analysis of Luke's text, without proceeding to ask questions about the historical Mary and how she might have differed from Luke's Mary in some way or another. 

 Upon completing this survey, baring some delightful surprise, I expect my conclusion would be that this annual discussion of Mary's expectations about Jesus reveals yet another area in which NT scholars have failed to distinguish exegesis from historical inquiry. I would use the survey results to illustrate ways in which those who engaged this debate have demonstrably (1) engaged in exegesis of the text, and then (2) concluded with an implied judgment about historicity of that text. This procedure, often referred to as "historical criticism" by NT scholars, does not in fact reflect the ways that proper historians perform critical analysis of ancient texts *AND THEN* proceed from analyzing evidence ('stage one') to considering the possibilities of the past using historical imagination and constructing  multiple hypotheses about those possibilities before determining which, if any, seems most likely (all of which is 'stage two'). To be clear, NT scholars typically perform stage one and then stop altogether.

 Second, I would proceed to the question of Luke's authorial identity and purpose. Although this question is broadly disputed among scholars of Luke-Acts, our literary opinions about the Magnificat (and other Lukan material about Mary) should be carefully framed within our opinions about Luke's larger authorial construction. Generally, I find NT scholars do not take the trouble to frame the part within the whole in this way. Likewise, I have not seen such framing from NT scholars who engage the question of Mary's expectations about Jesus. That is, they can all give you their own studied views about Lukan authorship and his theological agenda, but they do not take the time to explain how or whether their view on those larger issues (let alone any competing views on those issues) might affect exegetical conclusions about Luke's Magnificat. I strongly differ on this methodology.

 For example, one pertinent question about the larger Lukan construction is political: how does Mary's song lyric about God pulling down kings from their thrones prepare us for the political subtext of other material in Luke-Acts. My own preferred authorship theory is the minority view that Luke is writing a defense of Paul before Nero, and I find this premise adds a layer of intrigue to any rhetoric that is anti-money or anti-power. In my view, Luke is shrewdly signaling to Nero's administration officials that this whole Jesus movement is not a threat. Jesus resists everyone influencing him towards the exertion of actual power and Paul and Silas are not remotely "turning the world upside down" as some overly worked up tattletales reportedly said to the Thessalonian politarchs. How, then, does Luke expect the Magnificat to read in a Roman courtroom? Perhaps as the hopeless daydream of peasants longing for justice vicariously? By the way, which mighty ones should Nero think God has brought down? And which lowly ones should Nero think God has raised? Are there any prominent candidates to make such claims concrete and specific? 

 Alternatively, engaging a different theory of authorial identity and purpose can provide a different way to exegete the passage. Again, lacking the time to work through them all, I merely here observe that a proper inquiry should consider various literary contexts; ergo, various readings of the Magnificat (and other Gospel material about Mary).

 Third, having weighed the available readings of Luke (broadly) and the Magnificat (in context of those broader readings),  I would proceed to comparative analysis of those possible readings. In how many views does this or that phrase imply X and not Y? How many interpretative decisions are shared commonly by the various readings? Do we have a core set of basic meaning(s) that most interpreters have consistently found being conveyed? Of the disputed meanings, which ones potentially render the most impact on the major question at hand? In all such comparisons, the central concern is to reconstruct whether Luke's Mary had any expectations about the future life of her infant son. Because we have different views on the broader issues for Luke-Acts, we may need to reconstruct several differing versions of "Luke's Mary" before then deciding which of these literary reconstructions (if any) deserves to be considered the most likely version intended by its original author, and also which reading/s (if any) were more or less plausible for the original audience/s. 

 Fourth, presuming we have narrowed down the above issues and arrived at one conclusion about Luke's Mary (or perhaps one predominant view of Luke's Mary with a few minor debates being kept in mind as alternative views), it is now finally time to proceed from literary analysis to historical inquiry. This final step is the most radical part of my proposal, though it should not be. What I have to say about this step should also be your main takeaway from this humble blogging exercise.

 In general, the custom among NT scholars is that "literary issues" are not engaged during "historical critical" analysis, and vice versa. That these sub-disciplines within Gospel studies are kept apart is one big reason why NT scholars continually fail to proceed from exegesis ('stage one') to historical inquiry ('stage two'). Because they programmatically engage *either* "literary" *or* "historical" questions, they cannot imagine doing one as preparation for the other. To be clear, authorship and genre are standard preliminary questions for historical critical reading, but only insofar as they impact our evaluation of historicity. The literary construction of meaning (i.e., interpretation) is not considered a preliminary context which might then inform a second type of engagement with the same text. Instead, historical-critical exegesis is considered one type of interpretation, whereas "literary readings" are only allowed to exist in their own separate bubble. This has been formally acknowledged (albeit with a vastly different spin) since the early 1980's and reflects a categorical failure that goes back to William Wrede... but I shall not elaborate further on that point today. Suffice it to say that I agree with Hans Frei's assessment of the problem (chapter one of his famous Eclipse), but I despise Frei's prescription for a Bartian cognitive dissonance about story and history. Instead of separating truth and meaning, we need to prioritize meaning AND THEN proceed to ask questions about truth. (To futher distinguish between reference and representation, see Ankersmit's 2012 opus). But that is more than enough throat clearing.

 In sum, the historical question differs from the literary question in multiple respects but the major distinction between what I propose and what NT scholars usually do is this: we cannot merely complete a critical exegesis of the text's meaning and then accept it as a virtual transcription of true history. We cannot simply (A) decide what the text says, and then (B) decide whether or not we believe it. That simplistic division of method is categorically NOT what I am talking about when I say there must be a stage one and a stage two. To do only so much is to let Luke answer the question instead of answering it ourselves. Thus, our distinction between the two stages must be that the literary reconstruction of Luke's Mary must remain its own conclusive work of exegesis, and that said work should then be allowed to inform a new kind of engagement with the original question. Is it plausible to suppose Mary had any specific expectations about Jesus's future life, and if so what were they? 

 Before interacting with exegetical conclusions, however, our 'stage two' engagement begins with standard questions about historical context. What can we say about Nazareth? What was Mary's place in her synagogue? What general knowledge can we ascribe to a Nazarene Jewish woman of her era? What would she have known of world rulers losing their power, either from current events or from regional histories? What occasions might have transpired to make her aware of lowly people being raised up? What examples from the Hebrew scriptures might answer those questions? How likely is it that Nazareth had a copy of those relevant scrolls? Without scrolls, which Jewish traditions were most commonly passed along orally? Are there any practical contexts for supposing a Nazarene woman had developed familiarity with the content of Samuel, Psalms and Isaiah, specifically? Are those contexts likely or do such scenarios stretch plausibility? Quite independently of these questions, what kind of scenario would be necessary to explain the indirect and longitudinal transmission, to Luke, of any song Mary herself might have actually composed? Alternatively, on the Thucidydean model of artistic license, what kernel of historical truth might have preceded the Lukan composition of the full blown Magnificat as we have it? Please observe that none of these questions thus far require us to assume or build upon any aspect of our interpretative view of Luke's text. These are merely related questions designed to establish a new baseline for this different type of engagement with the central inquiry.

 As Christian believers, attempting to think historically, we may also consider how other NT material about Mary might affect our baseline for considering the central inquiry. Rather than merely setting up the Magnificat as our only reference point for considering what Mary expected of Jesus's future, we can explore any other claims about Mary's experience. If we accept Gabriel's visit, to some extent or another (pending a thorough and preliminary 'step one' and 'step two' on the Gabriel story), what possible expectations would have been prudent and sensible for someone like Mary to infer? If we accept that Mary had some interaction with Elizabeth and Zechariah, and/or angels and shepherds, and/or Anna and Simeon (all still in Luke, all pending their own two step analysis), then what expectations might Mary have plausibly formed based on those interactions? Finally, we can also consider the Matthean infancy claims (again, each pending their own two step contextual prep work): did Mary form expectations based on anything like the experiences of the magi and their flight into Egypt? Please observe, once again, that even for Christian believers I lay down no expectation that any given analysis should answer any of these questions in one way or another. I am only saying two things. One: we have the right to ask all kinds of questions like these, and to consider their various possible answers. Two: we ought to do so with a robustly disciplined imagination, as proper historians do.

 Pursuing the main question along such lines of inquiry is merely a starting point. Without doing the work, I cannot guess where such questions might lead us, let alone what we might end up concluding. What I can offer now is the kinds of historical conclusions we might reach in stage two, and some major ways in which those conclusions can stand in specific contrast from the exegetical conclusions reached in stage one.

 The most important point in all this is distinction. Our reconstructions of Luke's Mary and the historical Mary cannot be identical. It might not be the case that one will contradict the other, but if the two reconstructions are identical then we have missed the point of differentiating between literary exegesis and historical inquiry. If Luke's Mary is your Mary then Luke has done your work for you. You have abdicated the task. So then, as a Christian believer, here are three general ways in which my reconstructed historical Mary might differ from Luke's Mary without contradiction per se. 

 First, there is extrapolation. Historians often infer from a text more than what is strictly claimed by that text. Second, there is interpolation. Historians draw into their own reconstruction whatever contextual details seem appropriate to their own stated inquiry, even when those details may be completely irrelevant to a given bit of text or its larger literary framing. Third, there is synthesis. Historians combine details from multiple sources and construct a new hypothesis to incorporate those details (while perhaps also constructing a hypothesis to explain how said details came to be attested in said sources, respectively). Altogether, therefore, while a Christian believer is free to reconstruct a historical Mary that does contradict Luke's literary Mary, and/or Matthew's for that matter, it should not be assumed that differentiation between literary and historical reconstructions will entail contradiction necessarily.

 In any or all of these ways, my view of Mary can be more comprehensive than Luke's literary construction. This is not by any means to suggest, however, that my view of Mary should therefore be offered as authoritative in a sense that supersedes Christian scripture.

 It is my humble opinion that faith in scripture should impel us to consider not only its meaning(s) but also its value as a representation of the past. As a Christian, I uphold the scripture as primary, but as a believer, I take up the challenge to consider more fully all that is therein implied. My devotion to scripture does not license me to be unintelligent in the way that I process its claims. 

 When I read "Jesus wept" I am free to consider the meanings and values implied by that phrase, for my own life as well as for Jesus's experience. I am also free to imagine concretely that Jesus actually wept. The historical Jesus showed emotion among his compatriots. He let himself appear to be vulnerable in that way. I can try to learn whether this was common or uncommon for Jewish men of his era, and I can try to imagine the scene, in some sense or another. The fact that I cannot pull up a video of Jesus reacting emotionally to the death of a friend, or to any similar tragedy, does not prevent me from trying to imagine the reasonable possibilities. 

 I imagine the real world of Jesus based on my reading of scripture. I do not thereby replace scripture with my imagining, but I also recognize that part of the value of scripture is to prompt me to exactly these kinds of reflections. Real human experience is always more valuable and more comprehensive than any story can tell with mere words. The stories in scripture, where and when they are true, point to such real experience but they do not encompass it.

 It is not always enough to believe that a story is true. We must often try to imagine the real world that a story attempted to represent. However, given that many people are wont to imagine things wildly, wilfully, and without intellectual rigor, it behooves those of us who can differentiate carefully to do so with regard to both stories and histories. Christian academics should set an example by applying the utmost of rigor, so that we may then offer some general guidelines for those who need help. As it stands, sadly, I see no Christian scholars who do any of this. Instead, institutional sponsorships typically foster those views that uphold denominational dogmas. The abundance of rigor required by differentiating between interpretation and historical inquiry is not remotely anathema to christian belief, as I have tried to illustrate here, but I cannot say with equal confidence that said abundance is conducive to religious agendas.

 In any case, I have now accomplished what I set out to do in this blogpost. Here is the sum of it. 

 "What does Mary's song imply as we have it in Luke's Gospel?" is one kind of question and "What did Mary know and when did she know it?" is another. 

 The fact that most Christian scholars know nothing about what I'm saying is a tragedy.

 I offer this so that they may do better.

 Anon...