46 And Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord, 47 and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, 48 for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant. For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed; 49 for he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name. 50 And his mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. 51 He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts; 52 he has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate; 53 he has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty. 54 He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, 55 as he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his offspring forever.”
The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Lk 1:46–55.
Music and poetry have long served as vehicles to reveal the hidden depths of the human heart, using melody and lyric to convey emotions that mere prose cannot capture. While genres like country and folk are often credited with emotional storytelling, worship music holds a distinct purpose: it is written not only to invoke an emotional connection with the Almighty but to lay the believer bare in humility before Him. During Advent, we look to the song of Mary known as the Magnificat as the ultimate expression of this posture. To understand her song, one must first understand the singer. Mary was not a queen safe in a palace, but a poor teenager from an obscure village, marginalized by the mighty Roman Empire and facing a potentially life-threatening scandal. She was pregnant, unmarried, and powerless, possessing a story the world would likely dismiss or disgrace. Yet, in the face of fear and rigid social codes, Mary chose to sing a radical anthem of joy. This joy was not a result of her circumstances, but a theological outpouring allergic to pride; it was the joy that comes when one steps back to admire all that God has brought through Christ Jesus.
This radical joy is rooted in a profound humility that seeks to magnify God rather than the self. When Mary declares, “My soul magnifies the Lord,” (Luke 1:46), she does not mean she is making God larger, as He is already infinite, but rather that she is extolling Him to make His greatness visible and clear to others. Just as a magnifying glass makes an object clearer to an observer, Mary’s humble life becomes the lens through which the world sees God. This praise is structurally and thematically parallel to the song of Hannah in 1 Samuel, revealing that Mary’s mind was saturated in the Scriptures. She weaves together concepts from the Psalms, Isaiah, and the Torah, placing her own story within the continuum of Israel’s history. In a modern culture obsessed with self-magnification and brand-building, Mary invites us to a counter-cultural shift: honestly acknowledging our spiritual poverty and finding gladness in our absolute dependence on God. It is this posture of humility that serves as the fertile ground for the revolution of God’s kingdom.
The content of Mary’s praise provides a rich articulation of God’s character, celebrating Him as Savior, Mighty, Holy, Merciful, and Faithful. Her declaration identifies the “Mighty One” as the God of the Exodus who performs great miracles, now demonstrated through the virgin conception. She recognizes that His holiness is what necessitates salvation, and His mercy is the active faithfulness extended to those who fear Him with the utmost reverence and awe. Crucially, Mary anchors the birth of Jesus in the ancient, unconditional covenant God made with Abraham, understanding that the Incarnation is not an isolated miracle but the fulfillment of a redemptive plan for the entire world. By connecting her personal experience to Abraham, Mary transcends her own moment in history, offering a timeless assurance that God remembers His mercy. Thus, the song is not an abstract expression; instead, it demonstrates that God is faithful across generations and that His character is the foundation of all hope.
Through the Magnificat, God’s nature is revealed to have radical, concrete consequences for the world’s social and political order. Mary operates as a prophet, delivering a message promoting and unveiling a significant reversal that reorders values where the powerful are brought down, and the lowly are lifted up. She speaks of these revolutionary acts in the past tense, “He has scattered… He has put down,” even though it appears that the proud still sat on their thrones. With the eyes of faith, Mary sees that God’s choice of a poor maiden from Nazareth is the decisive invasion of history; the victory is guaranteed because the King is already in her womb. For the marginalized, this is an anthem of liberation, but for the comfortable, it is a challenge to find freedom not in status, but in joining God’s work. The Incarnation signals that the world is being turned right-side up, acting as an earthquake at dawn that shatters human schemes and establishes a kingdom operating on principles opposite to the world.
Mary’s song serves as the enduring template for Christian worship and leadership. It challenges us to move beyond a superficial Christmas spirit and embrace the call from Mary’s song: to lead from humility, actively pursue justice for the oppressed, and rely on God’s faithfulness. True worship requires our joy to be made complete by removing pride and focusing entirely on the character and actions of God. This Advent, we are called to reject the joy of cozy nostalgia and instead practice the revolutionary joy Mary proclaimed. We must consciously shift our focus away from ourselves, finding practical ways to “exalt the lowly” through charity and advocacy, and anchoring our hearts in the promises of Scripture. By doing so, we participate in the holy disruption of the gospel, testifying that God is indeed saving His people just as He promised.