Remembering The Magnificat - Mary not so Mild

On this exceptionally mild December morning, a balmy 9 degrees in fact, my Bible reading took me to The Magnificat in Luke 1:46-55. My little heart was thrilled because I love Mary’s song. If you read a few verses before, you will read the account of her reception from Elizabeth, whose own miracle baby leaps in the womb in response to the Holy Spirit and the presence of the unborn Jesus Christ. The scene has been set for joy, and power, and proclamation.... and Mary does not disappoint.

Because this Mary we meet is no meek and mild young girl (though we don't ignore her youth). In fact the notion of her ‘mildness’ is nowhere to be seen in the scriptures. Christmas hymns and art traditions started to cast her into this mould which the New Testament takes no part in sculpting. We are used to seeing her with her head bowed with a Mona Lisa smile, wearily accepting her fate... but when you read the Magnificat, those stereotypes are smashed apart.

Before I move on, I did want to address an elephant in the room. While in no way am I diminishing the fact that Mary was young and that that can and does (and should) offend our modern sensibilities around child marriage, Mary was the norm in her culture. She expected to be married, her life was normal to this point and from the sounds of it she was privileged to be engaged to an honourable man and I use the word privilege in the lightest term given the child marriage situation, but as an acknowledgement that many of her contemporaries would not have been so fortunate.

But if the only image you have of Mary is that she is someone to be pitied as a child bride, then you are missing so much about her. To coin a modern phrase, her pitiable state is “the least interesting thing about her”. In fact if pity is your primary vision of Mary, you probably haven’t yet read the Magnificat!

This Mary is educated, her song makes this abundantly clear. She knows the stories of her ancestors. She knows her God and she trusts Him as a God who is strong on matters of injustice. She is aware of her position and she is telling us that it is ok, that she is ok. She knows that she will be judged by proud people, but she knows she will be shown mercy and justice.

This Mary is singing with her arms flung wide. She’s experienced the presence of God and she is full of joy. She feels known and seen. That joy allowed her to see beyond her present state and see the blessings for generations to come. I wonder what she might have thought if she COULD see how she has been venerated. I suspect she would have been just as confident in a modern day speech to point us to Jesus, to the God who saves, who brings justice, who remembers. There’s a beautiful Hebrew term we see in the Noah account where God ‘remembers’ the promise he made to him, its ‘zakar’ and it’s active, purposeful and faithful.... it’s not as we humans see ‘remembering’... for example where our keys are. Far from it... when Mary says ‘remembering’, she is invoking an image of God which is expansive and loving, all knowing, promise-keeping and still merciful despite ourselves.

There is nothing mild about Mary’s words. They are life giving and beautiful. This final Sunday in advent, try reading these words out loud and let the ‘remembering’ of God wash over you just as Mary did that day, most likely smiling broadly and holding hands with Elizabeth who shares her joy. Bring ‘that’ Mary to mind next time you think of her.