Richard Doster
In Luke 1 we learn that “God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary.” Gabriel explains to her that she “will conceive and give birth to a son, and [is] to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.”
In response, while visiting with her cousin Elizabeth who was pregnant with John the Baptist, Mary breaks into song. “My soul magnifies the Lord,” she begins, “and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior” (Luke 1:46-47). Pause for a second and try to wrap your head around what she’s going through. She’s maybe 14 or 15 years-old; she’s just been visited by an angel, who promised that she’d give birth to the Son of God, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit of “the Most High God.”
How does she process that? What could possibly have been going through her mind?
It looks and sounds as though her thoughts go immediately to God. Throughout these nine-verses she doesn’t say much about her promised son. Instead, she’s focused on the One who gave the gift, rather than on the gift itself.
It makes sense, given the reality that of all this is beyond her grasp, and that the eternal significance of it is more than she can imagine. Her emotions are new and all consuming: The most she can do is magnify her vision of God. She understands that she’s been blessed because of who he is, not because of who she is. It’s God who is great, not her. Hence, she bursts with praise for what he’s doing and beholds His Majesty in ways no one has ever imagined.
She reflects, first, on his divine attributes, starting with his mighty power (Luke 1:49, 51), which is more than enough to affect the virgin birth. She exalts his holiness (Luke 1:45), which will characterize his Son. She speaks of his boundless mercy (Luke 1:50). She celebrates his faithfulness to keep every promise (Luke 1:54-55). In this moment, with all that’s swirling in her heart and mind, she can only rejoice in the character of God.
Mary tells us that God, because he’s merciful, reaches down and lifts the humble. She shows us, too. She’s the prime example — a peasant girl from Nazareth, the personification of a nobody from this place that hardly matters; a sinner in need of God’s grace as much as anyone (verse 47).
When we come to verse 50, Mary’s thoughts take a turn. She been talking about what God has done for her; now she ponders what he’ll do for Israel and the world. We soon see that Jesus not only lifts the humble; he’ll also humble the proud.
We’re jolted a bit in verse 51 when she shifts to the past tense. Until now, she’s been praising God for the gift of her son, who’s still safely within her womb. He hasn’t yet shown strength with his arm (verse 51), or scattered the proud (verse 51), or pulled the mighty down from their thrones (verse 52). And yet to her mind these things have been done. She knows, because she knows the words of the prophet Isaiah, that the Son of God will establish “his rule with justice and his kingdom with might (Isaiah 9:7).” And so he will humble our pride — whether it’s intellectual (verse 51) or rooted in our social status (verse 52) or prompted by our wealth (verse 53).
With the birth of Jesus, God announces to the world that he exalts the humble who long to do his will. And he humbles the powerful who can’t be bothered with him. We see this throughout Luke’s gospel, says writer and theologian Phil Ryken: “The rich man goes to hell, while the poor man is carried into God's presence (Luke 16:19-31). The prayers of the self-righteous Pharisee are denied, but the sinful tax collector goes home justified (Luke 18:9-14). Jesus said, “Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted” (Luke 14:11; 18:14).
Mary's song reminds us, then, that we’re not good enough or smart enough or powerful enough or rich enough to redeem our sinful selves, or to restore and remake Christ’s good creation.
Christ came because we need his grace. Let our souls, then, magnify the Lord.
Richard Doster lives in Fernandina Beach with his wife Sally. He’s the founding editor of byFaith, the magazine of the Presbyterian church in America. You can reach him at doster.richard@gmail.com.