After Mary's extraordinary visit from the angel, Luke tells us she hurried to see her older cousin Elizabeth. Elizabeth was perhaps the one person who could understand the magnitude of what Mary was experiencing; she herself was pregnant with John the Baptist.  

It's another extraordinary scene: At the sound of Mary's greeting, Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit, and blurts out loudly, "God has blessed you above all women, and he has blessed the child you carry!" And Mary unleashes her amazing song of praise, the words tumbling out of her as if she just can't keep it in any longer. 

Read it in Luke 1:46-55; it's astonishing.

The poetry is beautiful, and Mary's emotion is palpable, but it's in no way sentimental or even "maternal." This is not a young woman in nesting mode, thanking God for her pregnancy and daydreaming about cuddling her baby. This is radical--revolutionary--and if we are honest with ourselves, ought to be a little frightening to us as comfortable, educated, privileged North Shore people.

Mary insists that with this act, God "has scattered those with arrogant thoughts and proud inclinations. He has pulled the powerful down from their thrones and lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty-handed." This is good news, according to Mary.

I don't know about you, but it brings up some uncomfortable questions for me:

Where am I located in Mary's prophetic words? Am I one of the poor and lowly, or rich and powerful?

Whose side do my actions show I am on?

What power and wealth do I have in my life? Do I work to amass more out of pride and fear, for my own family's security?

Or do I use what I have to advocate and care for those without?

Where am I broken, and in need of God's repair? 

Advent blessings,
Lindley Traynor