"My soul doth magnify the Lord
And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior
For he hath regarded the lowliness of his handmaiden
For behold from henceforth
All generations shall call me blessed
For he that is mighty hath magnified me
And holy is his Name
And his mercy is on them that fear him
Throughout all generations
He hath showed 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 hath exalted the humble and meek
He hath filled the hungry with good things
And the rich he hath sent empty away
He remembering his mercy hath holpen his servant Israel
As he promised to our forefathers, Abraham and his seed forever."
--The Magnificat (Luke 1: 46-55; BCP Rite I translation)
There has been an awakening. Have you felt
it? OK, that line was from Star
Wars, but can you feel it? Can you feel Jesus stirring, ready to be born into this fragile world? We have reached the pinnacle of our
Advent journey, as we move from John the Baptist out in the desert and head to the hill country of Ein Karen, where a young girl named Mary is paying a visit to her cousin Elizabeth.
Here in this visitation we hear Mary sing the great hymn of
the Church, the Magnificat, which, for my money, sums up the entirety of the
gospels in just 10 elegant verses. So
majestic is this hymn that we not only proclaim it together this morning, but
we hear it a second time, with a different translation, from Mary herself. In these few verses is, what one of my
seminary professors called, the most revolutionary document in the world.
Statues depicting Mary & Elizabeth, just outside the Church of the Visitation in Ein Karen.
Why is it so revolutionary?
Because it proclaims with magnificence God's own revolutions, the
manners in which God has turned the world upside down through the Gospel of
Jesus Christ.
There is the moral revolution. He hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. In Christianity is the
death of our own pride. As St. Paul
said, it is not I who live but Christ who lives in me. All that we are is Christ's. Washed in the waters of baptism, sealed by
the Holy Spirit, and marked as Christ's own forever. All of our faults, our sins, our
shortcomings, crucified with Jesus; we are dead to sin and from that death is
resurrection, the promise of something new and better. When we let those sins be nailed to that
cross and let a new self be raised, it is the deathblow to our pride and
arrogance and personal shame and the beginning of a moral revolution.
There is an economic revolution. He hath filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he hath sent empty away. There are
no haves and have nots in a truly Christian society. Look at the early Church: no one dared to have too much while others
had so little. They got only so that
they could give away. We Christians are
crazy enough to believe that there can be a world where such a revolution is
possible, where one is not measured by an economic status, where someone who is
poor is actually given real hope, To be
a Christian is to put Christ first, and to put Christ first is to put our
fellow human beings and their needs ahead of our own. And in that is the economic revolution.
And then there is the social revolution. He hath put down the mighty from their seat and hath exalted the humble and meek.
Christianity puts an end to the world's labels and prestige. I'm gonna go back to Star Wars because, why
not. In the original Star Wars Luke
Skywalker was nothing more than a poor moisture farmer on the desert planet of
Tatooine. In the newest installment Rey
is a scavenger on the barren world of Jakku, and Finn is a stormtrooper of the
First Order.
None of them have any right being heroes. But through the power of the Force, all three
rise to become more than they were before.
The labels they gave themselves and that others gave them no longer
matter. And the same is true for any of
us who dare to claim the Lord Jesus as our Savior. Labels mean nothing! The world had no business being saved by a
poor carpenter turned rabbi who ended up dead on a cross like a criminal. But God ignited a social revolution in Jesus
and flipped the world on its head. Now
the labels that we give ourselves are meaningless. Again St. Paul nails it: there is no longer rich or poor, slave or
free, male or female. Today we could add
to those: there is no longer
Episcopalian or Baptist, republican or democrat, gay or straight, black or
white. For we are all one in Christ
Jesus. Our labels disappear. What the world once found to be worthless is
now exalted. Being disciples of Jesus
begets such a revolution in each of us and in the world.
Every night when I was in seminary we sang Evensong, the
office of Evening Prayer set to music.
And each and every evening we sang the Magnificat. We sang it until we didn't need the words in
front of us anymore, sang it until those of us who weren't even musically
inclined could effortlessly hit every note, every cadence. It got in our bones. And that's what it's there for. Mary's Song is your song! It's my song! It's the song of the Christian hope; hope that the way we
experience this world now is not all that there is. Hope that we are more than our social status, more than the worst thing we have ever done, more than the best or worst job we have ever held, more than our material possessions, or lack thereof. Hope that that God does ,God is, and God will, transform
this world, set it on fire with justice, wipe away every tear, break down every
human-made barrier, and turn us all around.
In this poor nobody of a girl, who said yes to God, is the beginning of
a new world.
Can you feel it? Can
you feel Christ stirring in you as he stirred in his mother? Can you hear
God whispering to you, as God whispered to Mary? Will you say yes? Yes to a world transformed, to a world that
has known the moral, economic, and social revolutions of God? Will you say yes to whatever it is God is
doing in your life right this minute?
Will you magnify God and prepare the way of the Lord?