* * * *
But we aren’t quite there yet.
We are still watching and waiting.
We are still hoping.
Just as the Israelites in the time of the prophets, we are looking for our salvation.
Last week, we heard from the prophet Zephaniah (3:14-20). We heard that God offers us love. We heard of God’s salvation for the sick and gathering of the outcasts. We heard how God “will change their shame into praise and fame throughout the earth.”
Hopefully you hear the echoes of this in the song that Mary sings for us in today’s text. Mary, a young unwed woman who has just learned that she will bring God’s child into the world. Mary, who has no value of her own in her culture. Mary, a woman who knows exactly what this means not just for her but for the entire world. (Yes, Mary knew; it's right there in her song.)
Mary heard the news from the angel and then immediately set out to visit her cousin, Elizabeth. Elizabeth is an older relative who also has something of a divine pregnancy. Earlier in this chapter of Luke it is stated that she and her husband are both childless and old. Her husband, Zechariah, is a high priest and Elizabeth herself is descended from Moses’s brother, Aaron. In their old age, an angel appears to Zechariah and tells him that their prayers have been answered and his wife, Elizabeth, will give birth to a son. By the time of Mary’s visit she is well along in her pregnancy with a son who will one day be known as John the Baptist.
It is to this relative, an older cousin that is miraculously pregnant with a child foretold by angels that Mary travels first. When Mary greets Elizabeth, John jumps in her womb and Elizabeth offers praise to Mary as the mother of God. It is this greeting that causes Mary to sing this song we hear today.
In this song, Mary praises God for all the things that God has done. She sings of God’s righteousness and mercy. She tells her cousin in this song that it is nothing of her own doing that has led her to be pregnant with God’s child. Her song gives all of the glory to God alone.
It is a song of deliverance for those who have been put down.
It is a song of joy on the eve of salvation.
It is a song of faith in the promises of God.
It is a song of thankfulness that one as lowly as Mary – a young woman of lowly birth in a society that values masculinity and prestige – can bear the child of God.
We can hear the roots of this song in the prophets of old. And we can hear it sung still today by those crying out for mercy. It is a song that must be sung again and again throughout history by those who are kept low and who look to God’s righteous salvation.
When we hear this song, we can’t help but notice how different God’s ways are from our own. The things we humans tend to raise up are the very things that God tears down. And those things we tend to disregard are the very things that God raises up.
We seek money, power, prestige. We want to be honored by those around us. We want to be better than "those" other folks over there.
We measure success by how much stuff one has, by how many people value a person, by whether or not they are considered in or out.
But this song from Mary turns that all on its head.
“…he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.” (Luke 1:51)
“He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly.” (Luke 1:52)
“He has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich empty away.” (Luke 1:53)
God comes into the world as Jesus to live among us and to show us a new way to be Lord.
Jesus was not born in a palace. Jesus did not live surrounded by worldly riches. Jesus shows us a king that lives in relationship with others rather than lording it over others, a king that rules through love rather than fear.
As I listened to the words of Mary this week and interacted with friends and colleagues far and wide, I came across an article about this bit of text ("The Magnificat as Social Document"). It seems that not everyone is as overjoyed as Mary upon hearing these words. Apparently these words make those in places of power and privilege uncomfortable.
By the early 19th century, the British had banned the use of this text during evening prayers in India. You see, in the traditional daily prayer cycle, several of the canticles from the early chapters of Luke are sung as a part of the prayers. This song of Mary remains to this day, the traditional canticle for evening prayer.
A little closer to our own time, in the 1970s the Argentine government banned the public reading of this text when it was used by the mothers of the Disappeared. In the 1980s, the government of Guatemala banned the public reading of this text as well.
It is a song that gives hope to the sick, the hungry, the outcasts, the disregarded, the marginalized. It is a song for all who honor God and seek to live in God’s kingdom. And so it is a song that scares those in power that would control others and keep them down.
And when we sit and truly listen to the words, it can make even those of us in the church a bit uncomfortable. We like our God to be egalitarian, to welcome all regardless of background – rich or poor, male or female, slave or free. All are one in Christ Jesus.
We want a God that lifts up the lowly, but what do we do with a God who brings down the powerful?
We want a God that feeds the hungry, but what do we do with a God that sends the rich away empty?
The good news of the story is not that another king was born to live in a palace and rule through ruthlessness and violence.
The good news of the story is not that God chooses to maintain the status quo.
Rather the good news of the story is that God lifts up the lowly and cares about those that are hungry.
This is who we are welcoming into the world. This is who it is that is coming to join us. A God that hears the cry of the needy and comes into the world as one of lowly birth. A God that gathers the outcasts and feeds the hungry.
Jesus comes into our world and flips the narrative we have been feeding ourselves. God does not value possessions or influence or celebrity. God hears the cries of those we fail to hear. God values relationships built on love.
God is faithful and merciful, which is why we get uncomfortable with Mary’s song. We get uncomfortable thinking of God bringing anyone down or sending anyone away empty. But the truth is, those things say more about us than they do about God.
The powerful are brought down from their thrones by the act of clinging to them. In their unwillingness to submit to another, to submit to God, they miss out on what God has to offer.
The rich go away empty not because God has refused to give them anything, but because they refuse to recognize the value of what God has offered to all including them.
We live in a world that values certain persons over others based on nothing more than skin color or gender, what country a person is from or what language they speak. We live in a world that values prestige and money and power.
But God is coming into our world, and God’s kingdom does not look like our earthly kingdoms.
God is coming into our world, and so our world is about to change.
God is coming into our world to lift up the lowly, the lost, the outcasts, the marginalized.
God is coming into the world to bring hope to the hopeless.
God is coming into the world to turn the world around.
Let us not spend so much time raising ourselves up that we miss what God is offering us.
Let us not pay so much attention to the gold of this season that we miss the Christ child that is offered for us.
Or, just as those in Mary’s song, we run the risk of missing out on what God is doing in the world.
Instead let us welcome the one that comes into our midst not as one of riches and power and might but as one who comes to build a kingdom based on love.
Let us welcome the one that brings justice into our world, justice for those that have been mistreated and forgotten.
Let us welcome the one who remains faithful to us even in the midst of our own sin.
That is the child that we celebrate in the manger.
That is the Christ who reigns in glory and promises to come again.
Let us welcome God into our world and into our hearts that we may truly know the peace of this season.
* * * *
Hopefully you hear the echoes of this in the song that Mary sings for us in today’s text. Mary, a young unwed woman who has just learned that she will bring God’s child into the world. Mary, who has no value of her own in her culture. Mary, a woman who knows exactly what this means not just for her but for the entire world. (Yes, Mary knew; it's right there in her song.)
Mary heard the news from the angel and then immediately set out to visit her cousin, Elizabeth. Elizabeth is an older relative who also has something of a divine pregnancy. Earlier in this chapter of Luke it is stated that she and her husband are both childless and old. Her husband, Zechariah, is a high priest and Elizabeth herself is descended from Moses’s brother, Aaron. In their old age, an angel appears to Zechariah and tells him that their prayers have been answered and his wife, Elizabeth, will give birth to a son. By the time of Mary’s visit she is well along in her pregnancy with a son who will one day be known as John the Baptist.
It is to this relative, an older cousin that is miraculously pregnant with a child foretold by angels that Mary travels first. When Mary greets Elizabeth, John jumps in her womb and Elizabeth offers praise to Mary as the mother of God. It is this greeting that causes Mary to sing this song we hear today.
In this song, Mary praises God for all the things that God has done. She sings of God’s righteousness and mercy. She tells her cousin in this song that it is nothing of her own doing that has led her to be pregnant with God’s child. Her song gives all of the glory to God alone.
It is a song of deliverance for those who have been put down.
It is a song of joy on the eve of salvation.
It is a song of faith in the promises of God.
It is a song of thankfulness that one as lowly as Mary – a young woman of lowly birth in a society that values masculinity and prestige – can bear the child of God.
We can hear the roots of this song in the prophets of old. And we can hear it sung still today by those crying out for mercy. It is a song that must be sung again and again throughout history by those who are kept low and who look to God’s righteous salvation.
When we hear this song, we can’t help but notice how different God’s ways are from our own. The things we humans tend to raise up are the very things that God tears down. And those things we tend to disregard are the very things that God raises up.
We seek money, power, prestige. We want to be honored by those around us. We want to be better than "those" other folks over there.
We measure success by how much stuff one has, by how many people value a person, by whether or not they are considered in or out.
But this song from Mary turns that all on its head.
“…he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.” (Luke 1:51)
“He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly.” (Luke 1:52)
“He has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich empty away.” (Luke 1:53)
God comes into the world as Jesus to live among us and to show us a new way to be Lord.
Jesus was not born in a palace. Jesus did not live surrounded by worldly riches. Jesus shows us a king that lives in relationship with others rather than lording it over others, a king that rules through love rather than fear.
As I listened to the words of Mary this week and interacted with friends and colleagues far and wide, I came across an article about this bit of text ("The Magnificat as Social Document"). It seems that not everyone is as overjoyed as Mary upon hearing these words. Apparently these words make those in places of power and privilege uncomfortable.
By the early 19th century, the British had banned the use of this text during evening prayers in India. You see, in the traditional daily prayer cycle, several of the canticles from the early chapters of Luke are sung as a part of the prayers. This song of Mary remains to this day, the traditional canticle for evening prayer.
A little closer to our own time, in the 1970s the Argentine government banned the public reading of this text when it was used by the mothers of the Disappeared. In the 1980s, the government of Guatemala banned the public reading of this text as well.
It is a song that gives hope to the sick, the hungry, the outcasts, the disregarded, the marginalized. It is a song for all who honor God and seek to live in God’s kingdom. And so it is a song that scares those in power that would control others and keep them down.
And when we sit and truly listen to the words, it can make even those of us in the church a bit uncomfortable. We like our God to be egalitarian, to welcome all regardless of background – rich or poor, male or female, slave or free. All are one in Christ Jesus.
We want a God that lifts up the lowly, but what do we do with a God who brings down the powerful?
We want a God that feeds the hungry, but what do we do with a God that sends the rich away empty?
The good news of the story is not that another king was born to live in a palace and rule through ruthlessness and violence.
The good news of the story is not that God chooses to maintain the status quo.
Rather the good news of the story is that God lifts up the lowly and cares about those that are hungry.
This is who we are welcoming into the world. This is who it is that is coming to join us. A God that hears the cry of the needy and comes into the world as one of lowly birth. A God that gathers the outcasts and feeds the hungry.
Jesus comes into our world and flips the narrative we have been feeding ourselves. God does not value possessions or influence or celebrity. God hears the cries of those we fail to hear. God values relationships built on love.
God is faithful and merciful, which is why we get uncomfortable with Mary’s song. We get uncomfortable thinking of God bringing anyone down or sending anyone away empty. But the truth is, those things say more about us than they do about God.
The powerful are brought down from their thrones by the act of clinging to them. In their unwillingness to submit to another, to submit to God, they miss out on what God has to offer.
The rich go away empty not because God has refused to give them anything, but because they refuse to recognize the value of what God has offered to all including them.
We live in a world that values certain persons over others based on nothing more than skin color or gender, what country a person is from or what language they speak. We live in a world that values prestige and money and power.
But God is coming into our world, and God’s kingdom does not look like our earthly kingdoms.
God is coming into our world, and so our world is about to change.
God is coming into our world to lift up the lowly, the lost, the outcasts, the marginalized.
God is coming into the world to bring hope to the hopeless.
God is coming into the world to turn the world around.
Let us not spend so much time raising ourselves up that we miss what God is offering us.
Let us not pay so much attention to the gold of this season that we miss the Christ child that is offered for us.
Or, just as those in Mary’s song, we run the risk of missing out on what God is doing in the world.
Instead let us welcome the one that comes into our midst not as one of riches and power and might but as one who comes to build a kingdom based on love.
Let us welcome the one that brings justice into our world, justice for those that have been mistreated and forgotten.
Let us welcome the one who remains faithful to us even in the midst of our own sin.
That is the child that we celebrate in the manger.
That is the Christ who reigns in glory and promises to come again.
Let us welcome God into our world and into our hearts that we may truly know the peace of this season.
* * * *
And because it is my current favorite version of this text, here is a contemporary version of Mary's song set to a traditional Irish tune: