This cold Tuesday morning finds me awake early and sitting in my office, lit only with a string of Christmas lights across the windows and a small desk lamp. In the living room, the Christmas tree glows against the reflection of our first snowfall in Illinois. It’s quiet. Peaceful. Even the sound of the nearby highway has become part of the background noise that is now home and it's soft roar is restful.
The Holiday decorations beg that I start an Advent reading today for the Christmas Season. Luke, Chapter 1. One of my favorite sections of verse, The Magnificat. The hymn of praise that Mary gives to God after the angels whispers that she has been chosen as the mother of the Christ child.
“My soul doth magnify the Lord,
And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.
For he hath regarded the low estate of his handmaiden:
for, behold, from henceforth all generations shall
call me blessed.
call me blessed.
For he that is mighty hath done to me great things; and holy is his name.
And his mercy is on them that fear him from generation to generation.
He hath shewed strength with his arm; he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of
their hearts.
He hath put down the mighty from their seats, and exalted them of low degree.
He hath filled the hungry with good things; and the rich he hath sent empty away.
He hath helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy;
As he spake to our fathers, to Abraham, and to his seed for ever.”
Luke 1:46-55 (KJV)
It was in college that I first fell in love with The Magnificat. The University Chorale sang one every year and my freshman year, the version was in the King James translation. It was a simple melody with simple harmonies that still echo in my head.
In times when my heart was full of praise, these words would come as a song of the abundance His blessings. And in dark days, when I couldn’t lift my head, the Song of Mary declared that He has not forgotten me.
In times when my heart was full of praise, these words would come as a song of the abundance His blessings. And in dark days, when I couldn’t lift my head, the Song of Mary declared that He has not forgotten me.
Now, 29 years later, I sit in the quiet of my home and read a new translation:
“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,
and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior,
because He has looked with favor
on the humble condition of His slave.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed,
because the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and His name is holy.
His mercy is from generation to generation on those who fear Him.
He has done a mighty deed with His arm;
He has scattered the proud because of the thoughts of their hearts;
He has toppled the mighty from their thrones and exalted the lowly.
He has satisfied the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped His servant Israel, mindful of His mercy,
just as He spoke to our ancestors, to Abraham and his descendants forever.”
(Holman Christian Standard Version)
Mary's praise was genuine and even prophetic, but this holy pregnancy did not bring her what she expected.
From Mary’s own words we can see that she never imagined raising a teacher but she saw a Warrior. Words like “toppled” and “scattered” do not describe an academic but a Conqueror. Poor carpenters do not “exalt” or feed the hungry and disperse the wealthy. Mary answered the Angel’s call and knew that she would be honored and blessed as the mother of God - but did she know it would be decades before that would happen?
My entire life, I had imagined Mary as a meek, obedient child of 13 who had known her place as a female child in Jewish society. She served her family. Washed clothes. Tended livestock. Cooked for the family.
Then suddenly, I saw on the page, a strong-willed daughter of Zion who had studied Torah over the shoulder of her brothers and sat outside the Temple wall listening to the discussions and prayers of the Elders and they waited for Messiah. A student who learned the prophecies and prayed for a deliverer. A dreamer who could see into the future where there was peace and bellies did not go to bed empty.
This young maiden must have had a resiliency and tenacity that God knew would carry her through the moments of telling her family of her coming child and endure the months of shunning by her village. Maybe even a little streak of defiance in her bones that would strengthen her in the days and years to come.
In one quiet morning, a new connection was made with Mary. She wasn’t so far removed from myself. She was strong. Tough even — at 9 months pregnant, she rode a donkey across the desert in order to be with her husband!
In the next 34 years, Mary must have seen those early expectations replaced with new realities. Like most expectant mothers, Mary may have found the fatigue to be overwhelming yet it prepared her to birth a child in a stable, far from home and family. The reality of raising God’s son may have caused her sleepless nights, but it taught her to release in prayer those things which our mind can never reason. Each season of life, though unexpected, prepared her for the next.
Later we find Mary at the feet of Jesus as her son is crucified - the most horrible of deaths reserved for the worse criminals. In grief, she collapses in the dirt and mud made with her child’s blood. And in my heart, I hear her whisper —
My soul still proclaims the greatness of the Lord and
My spirit still rejoices in God my Savior.
He is Faithful.
He is Faithful.
His mercy is still from generation to generation.
He has done mighty deeds - and He will do more.
He is Faithful.
He is Faithful.
He will topple the mighty and exalt the lowly.
He has saved His servant Israel -
He is Faithful.
He is Faithful.
Today, rest in the unexpected.
Rejoice in the surprises.
Remember - He is Faithful.
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