As a former Baptist preaching for the first time on the Virgin Mary’s feast day (August 15), I learned something new in preparing this message. I’m not a botanist, but I do love church history. And I learned that the marigold flower is named after the Virgin Mary. Since the Middle Ages in England, this simple yet splendid flower was called Mary’s Gold. The marigold blooms consistently and in many environments, and it has a bright golden color. Some say it refers to Mary’s crown. But what is Mary’s Gold?
The Anglican poet George Herbert said of the Virgin Mary: “Thou art the holy mine, whence came the gold.”
Mary’s Gold is Jesus growing in her womb—God in human flesh, dwelling among us.
And in Scripture, we see gold associated with the place where God dwells. In Israel’s tabernacle, the tent pitched in the wilderness, inside the Holy of Holies there was pure gold for the ark of the covenant, the mercy seat, the table, and the lampstands. In Revelation 21, in describing the new heavens and the new earth, John says of the New Jerusalem that it is the city of “gold, as clear as glass.” So Scripture teaches us that God dwells in a golden house, a golden city.
Well, for a short time, God pitched a tent in Mary, found her fit to be a divine dwelling place. And like this simple flower, the marigold, she was of a humble estate, but through her golden example of faith our Mighty God brought to us the pure gold of our Glorious Savior, Jesus Christ.
Our reading today is Mary’s song, the Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55). And in our Book of Common Prayer, we are encouraged to pray Mary’s song each evening. She connects God’s promises throughout Scripture to Jesus. And this song shows Mary Golden in her trust and joy in Jesus.
Let’s look at Mary, Golden in her trust.
“He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name,” Mary declares. What is the great thing our Mighty God did in the Virgin Mary?
Luke opens his Gospel with two portraits of divine service, Zechariah and Mary. The priest Zechariah is serving in the temple when the angel Gabriel appears to him and announces his son’s birth. But Zechariah, a priest in a place where God was said to dwell, does not trust God. On the other hand, we have the Virgin Mary not in the temple but on the outskirts of Nazareth. And what is her response to Gabriel? “I am the Lord’s servant. May your word to me be fulfilled.”
But in Luke 1:35, here is how Gabriel describes to Mary how God will make possible the virgin birth: “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.” Do you hear the echo? “The Most High will overshadow you.” It’s an allusion to the Tabernacle in the wilderness, when in Exodus 40:34 “the cloud covered [overshadowed] the tent of meeting, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle.”1
Here Luke is contrasting not just two servants of God but two houses of God. First we have the outward splendor of the Temple but inside faith is barren, but here in Nazareth we have the lowly Virgin Mary and the inward splendor of her faith. In fact, the presence of the Most High is not upon the Temple but it overshadows her. She is a living resting place, a tabernacle, for the presence of God, and she is the ark which contains the true manna—Jesus. And it’s her body, blessed with the presence of the Son and the Spirit working together, that foreshadows our own bodies as temples of God.
Her trust in God is a model for our trust. And we see this trust in action in John’s Gospel, at the wedding of Cana. “Do whatever he tells you,” she says to the servants. She has lived out this trust and obedience in her life. And to each one of us, Mary points us to Jesus and says, “Do whatever he tells you.”
When we pray Mary’s song today, we see the God who fulfills his promises through the ages, and it strengthens our trust in the God who is faithful to his people.
We see Mary Golden in her trust, and we see Mary Golden in her joy.
In verse 47, Mary sings “my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.” Now, she already knows the name of the child growing in her womb. The unborn child whose presence caused John the Baptist to leap for joy in Elizabeth’s womb (Luke 1:41; here Luke is alluding to David and the ark of the covenant). His name is Jesus, for as Gabriel said, “he will save his people from their sins.” Jesus is the Greek form of the Hebrew name Yeshua, which means “God is salvation.” So when she is saying, “my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,” she is saying that she rejoices in Jesus.
And isn’t that the example we see in her own life? At every moment in Luke’s account of Jesus’s birth and early life, Mary treasured all these things in her heart. She had such great joy in Jesus, God her Savior, and she made him her life’s treasure. Mary is Golden in her joy and she teaches us to treasure Jesus. Mary’s Gold is Jesus.
But Mary’s joy is Golden because it is refined and tested at the foot of the cross. Where others crumbled in fear, Mary’s trust and joy in Jesus stood like a strong tower even as a sword pierced her soul. Mixed with grief and sorrow, Mary’s joy is refined in its splendor. We can follow her to the foot of the cross, knowing the Risen Jesus is strong enough to transfigure our deepest pain for his glory.
And because Mary is Golden in her trust and joy in Jesus, she is Golden in pointing us to Jesus.

When I lived in Louisville, I visited the Cathedral of the Assumption. Today, August 15, is their principal feast when they celebrate the Catholic dogma of Mary’s Assumption into heaven. And in the back corner of the cathedral is a statue of the Virgin Mary, a crown of stars on her head like Revelation 12. But her foot is on the serpent. And when I listened to an audio tour of the cathedral, this is what a parishioner said about the significance of the statue for her: “There are moments in my life where I feel like I need Mary, I need Mary for this one. . . As a woman to another woman or as a mother to a mother, Mary I know is here for me.” It’s as if, for her, Jesus’s intercession and advocacy isn’t enough, and Mary fills the gap. But in every respect, our Great High Priest Jesus can sympathize with our weakness, and he alone calls us to draw near to the throne of grace.
And furthermore, the notion of needing Mary instead of Jesus is contrary to the spirit of Mary’s song, The Magnificat: “My soul magnifies the Lord!”
I mentioned earlier George Herbert describing the Virgin Mary as a holy gold mine. Well, here is the full context of his remarks about Mary in this poem about the angels and saints:
I would address
My vows to thee most gladly, blessed Maid,
And Mother of my God, in my distress.
Thou art the holy mine, whence came the gold,
The great restorative for all decayIn young and old;
Thou art the cabinet where the jewel lay:
Chiefly to thee would I my soul unfold:
But now (alas!) I dare not; for our King,
Whom we do all jointly adore and praise,
Bids no such thing.— from George Herbert, “To all Angels and Saints”
Let us not see Mary’s Gold and forget that it is our King who makes her Golden. Our King Jesus who was the Gold inside the tabernacle God fashioned for her. Mary is Golden because she magnifies Jesus in her trust and joy. The Holy Spirit covered Mary so that she was a dwelling place for Jesus. Like her, we are temples of the Most High God when we are united to the Son through the dwelling of the Spirit. Let us then trust and obey Jesus, rejoicing in God our Savior, so that by following Mary’s example the radiance of our Spirit-filled lives may draw attention to Jesus. And may we all see with her the pure golden city of the New Jerusalem where our King reigns for ever and ever.
I first learned of this connection when reading Yves Congar, The Mystery of the Temple