This morning was our Carol Service, with contributions from members of the congregation and Mike Sole on the organ.
Luke 1:46-55
And Mary said: “My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me—holy is his name. His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation. He has performed mighty deeds with his arm; he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts. He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, remembering to be merciful to Abraham and his descendants forever, just as he promised our ancestors.”
This Advent we have been working through the gospel readings from the lectionary, which is the set of readings shared by many churches, and the themes suggested by the Joint Public Issues Team, which is the ecumenical social justice group of which the Baptist Union is a member. This week their theme is “joy: the poorest and most marginalised at the centre”, and it is not much of a stretch to see how that relates to the reading we have just heard, which comes at the start of the Christmas story, when Mary visits her cousin Elizabeth to tell her of the child who is to come, months before the manger in the little town of Bethlehem.
There has been a sad lack of protest anthems in my generation, but thankfully I can still look back to Mary’s song, also known as the Magnificat, which is surely the greatest protest anthem of them all. I like to imagine her singing it to Jesus as a lullaby, or while cooking their dinner at home. I like to think that perhaps her words helped him to understand and give expression to what he always knew by instinct, God’s heart for the humble and the hungry.
I call it a protest anthem because it calls us to imagine a new world, and it is one which challenges the current one. The mighty are cast down and the humble are lifted up. The hungry are fed and the rich are sent away empty. And I don’t think this is about simple reversal or petty revenge, but about a new equity. Remember the voice in the wilderness we heard a couple of weeks ago? The mountains will be made low and the valleys shall be filled, so that we may look level eyed into the face of one another.
And once we have imagined that new world, surely we must work for it, surely we must protest against all that is not part of it. Mary’s song calls us to show God’s mercy and take part in God’s mighty deeds. It calls us to cast down the mighty, raise up the humble, fill the hungry and send the rich away. We must stand against every inequality and injustice and prejudice and oppression. And that may include giving up some of our own power and privilege.
But what does all of this have to do with joy? Perhaps it sounds like hard work. Perhaps it sounds like an impossible task. Perhaps like the rich young ruler Jesus told to sell his possessions and give to the poor, we will walk away disheartened because we have many things and do not want to lose them. No one said any of this would be easy, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be joyful. Because joy doesn’t come from what is easy but from what is good and true and holy.
The birth of Christ sees exactly the kind of upheaval that Mary sings about. The shepherds, who were among the poorest and most marginalised, are brought into the centre of the story by a host of angels. The wise ones, who knew wealth and honour, arrive late to the party covered in the dust of a long road. I’m sure it was hard for the wise ones and seemed impossible to the shepherds, but all are brought together in the presence of God-with-us, and joy must have filled every corner and every heart.
One of the things I love most about Mary’s song is that she says God has done these things. We may not feel we have seen them yet but in some way Mary did, and she rejoiced because of it. May we also catch her vision, and may we joyfully do all we can to help it come to pass.
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