“No servant can serve two masters.” It is not merely a command—it is a diagnosis. Christ is not giving us a rule to follow; He is telling us something about the way we are made. The human heart, like a compass, cannot point in two directions at once. Try to serve both God and “mammon” (worldly power, riches, fancy cars and houses, think of the things drug cartels worship), and you will soon discover that your soul is being torn down the middle because each master wants your entire self, and neither will settle for a half-love.

Nowhere do we see this truth more luminously lived than in the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary. She served one Master, and one only. From her hidden girlhood in Nazareth to the foot of the Cross, her heart beat for the will of God and none other. The world offered her nothing, no riches, no comfort, no acclaim. Yet she had the peace that only comes to those who are undivided.

Mammon – by which Christ means not only wealth, but the whole glittering world-system of self-interest, pride, possession, and ease – was never her god. She had nothing of it, and wanted nothing from it. When the angel appeared to her announcing the mystery of the Incarnation of Jesus in her womb, she did not ask, “What do I gain?” She asked only how it would be done. Her question was not the hesitation of doubt, but the readiness of one who had long ago ceased to serve herself.

Had she served mammon, she might have clung to comfort and reputation, refused the shame  of bearing a child outside of wedlock, or demanded safety for her Son. But she served God. And so she said yes to danger, yes to misunderstanding, yes to a sword that would pierce her heart.

The world has a thousand false gods, and Mammon is their king. But Mary bowed to only One—and she did so without fanfare, in silence, and in surrender. She was not merely poor in possessions; she was poor in spirit. And this is the great irony: by giving herself entirely to God, she received more than Mammon could ever offer. Not silver or gold, but grace. Not status, but the joy of bearing Christ into the world.

You and I are always tempted to serve two masters. But Mary shows us another way; the wholeness of a heart given entirely to one Master is simply better. She reminds us that to choose God over Mammon is not merely noble – it is sane. For Mammon takes everything and gives nothing back. But God takes what we offer and fills it with meaning, with peace, and with the light of eternal things.

In the end, the question is not whether you will serve. You will serve someone. The only question is whom—and whether, like the Virgin, your heart is free enough to say: “Behold I am the handmaid of the Lord.” My heart belongs to God alone.