Luke 1:39-56; 1 Samuel 2; 2 Samuel 6
We come to that intriguing vignette in Luke’s gospel where two women prophesy about the greatest divine action of all time, and when two unborn babies exemplify what happens when God meets with humanity. Luke 1:39-56 is well known, but let’s put the sights and sounds into our minds again:
In those days Mary arose and went with haste into the hill country, to a city of Judah, and she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the babe leaped in her womb; and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and she exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! And why is this granted me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For behold, when the voice of your greeting came to my ears, the babe in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfilment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.” And Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has regarded the low estate of his handmaiden. For behold, henceforth all generations will call me blessed; for he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name. And his mercy is on those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm, he has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts, he has put down the mighty from their thrones, and exalted those of low degree; he has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent empty away. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, as he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his seed for ever.” And Mary remained with her about three months, and returned to her home.
Until this point in his gospel, Luke has been weaving a kind of counterpoint picture, where we hear about the coming forerunner and his family, and then the coming Savior and his family. After this passage, we will return to the counterpoint, learning of John’s birth first, and then of Jesus’ Nativity. But here, just before the births, the two threads of our story, the two musical motifs of the song, come together in utter beauty. Mary meets with her cousin, Elizabeth, and the two unborn babies, not yet seen, but revealed to their mothers. The importance of these mothers and their sons is also shown to us, the readers of this story, as we hear about them in great dramatic detail. We should stop and marvel that an ancient story here puts in the foreground two ordinary women, an embryo, and a fetus—utterly unimportant human beings according to the literature of the surrounding Graeco-Roman culture. They are, however, the major players in this story, with three of them filled with the Spirit, and the very smallest in stature rightly magnified as the LORD of all.
Mary begins and ends the action, and takes the largest part, so we will focus on her. It is through her that we hear of blessing, that we see deep humility, and that we receive a warning against exalting ourselves. All the while we are focusing on her, however, we should remember that she herself points to the Coming One.
First, she arrives as a blessing to Elizabeth, even while she speaks about the blessing that God has given to her, the humble one, and will give through her. When Elizabeth encounters Mary, as they first meet, she exclaims, with deep humility, “Who am I that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” Elizabeth, through the Holy Spirit, has been given insight into both the One whom Mary is bearing, but also into the holiness of the God-bearer herself. The fifth century Bishop, Maximus of Turin, reminds us of the age-old tradition that holy Mary is like that ancient Ark of the covenant— the holy chest carried by poles, that held within it potent signs of God’s presence, and at which God met with his people in the Tabernacle, and then in the Temple. Here are the bishop’s words:
But what would we say that the ark was if not holy Mary, since the ark carried within it the tables of the covenant, while Mary bore the master of the same covenant? The one bore the law within itself and the other the gospel, but the ark gleamed within and without with the radiance of gold, while holy Mary shone within and without with the splendor of virginity; the one was adorned with earthly gold, the other with heavenly. (Sermon 42.5)
Perhaps we may think that this is simply a poetic conceit, a bit of a stretch, imagined because both the ark and Mary “bore” precious things. However, this tradition of the Theotokos as the fulfillment of the Ark did not begin with the good bishop.
Instead, the evangelist Luke himself uses language throughout this story of the travelling and expecting mother to recall that older story of David bringing the Ark into his own city, Bethlehem, in 2 Samuel 6. Both stories are set in the hill country, and proceed when someone “arises” and “goes.” Like Elizabeth, David asks “How can I receive” this great gift? Shouts of joy occur, while the word “blessing” is emphasized. David leaps, while John the unborn babe leaps in joy. Finally, the time frame of three months is accentuated in both stories. Surely Luke expects the biblically literate reader to note these parallels, and to think of the Ark of the Covenant.
When Mary arrives at Elizabeth’s house, she brings honors and joy to her older cousin, but then in her joyful Magnificat, she speaks of the blessing that God will bring to the entire world: “He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, as he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his seed for ever.” Yes, Mary is blessed, but through her blessing, the whole world will receive God’s promise —for the Gentiles, too, will become sons of Abraham, by faith (as St. Paul makes clear in his letters)! Mary is the true Ark, carrying not only reminders of God’s presence, but the LORD Himself who has come to enlighten the whole world.
And what humility is here! Her cousin is overwhelmed with Mary’s presence, but Mary is overwhelmed by what God is doing. This young woman’s prayer resembles that of the ancient matriarch, Hannah, whose conception of Samuel the prophet came about as a miracle, though not a miracle of the same supreme degree as the conception of the Theotokos. Rather, Hannah’s sorrow and joy were more domestic. She longed for a son, and was scorned by the women around her, including her husband’s second wife, for her barrenness. After she prays in the Temple, and receives her heart’s desire, she utters this song of triumph, upon which Mary’s Magnificat is clearly founded:
My heart exults in the LORD; my strength is exalted in the LORD. My mouth derides my enemies, because I rejoice in thy salvation. There is none holy like the LORD, there is none besides thee; there is no rock like our God. Talk no more so very proudly, let not arrogance come from your mouth; for the LORD is a God of knowledge, and by him actions are weighed. The bows of the mighty are broken, but the feeble gird on strength. Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread, but those who were hungry have ceased to hunger. The barren has borne seven, but she who has many children is forlorn. The LORD kills and brings to life; he brings down to Sheol and raises up. The LORD makes poor and makes rich; he brings low, he also exalts. He raises up the poor from the dust; he lifts the needy from the ash heap, to make them sit with princes and inherit a seat of honor. For the pillars of the earth are the LORD’s, and on them he has set the world. He will guard the feet of his faithful ones; but the wicked shall be cut off in darkness; for not by might shall a man prevail. The adversaries of the LORD shall be broken to pieces; against them he will thunder in heaven. The LORD will judge the ends of the earth; he will give strength to his king, and exalt the power of his anointed. (2 Sam 2:1-10)
Hannah’s faith is based upon her knowledge of this robust and holy God who is yet intimately connected with us. He is a God who knows everything, and all about our weaknesses, and before Him arrogance must vanish; this is, indeed, the topic of her canticle! Indeed, those who maintain pride before the face of God must be imagining Him other than He really is, creating an idol in their minds rather than worshipping the true LORD. Besides this warning against arrogance, Hannah’s pattern is a positive one, displaying true wisdom and humility. Along with Holy Mary, Hannah also is bold to open her mouth as a prophetess, for both women have received good news from God. So, along with their own humble stance, both women speak truthfully of the God who both lays the proud low and raises up the humble. The humble truth-teller becomes the one who truly speaks God’s word to others. God exalts the humble and brings down those who are proud in their own eyes.
God’s purpose in bringing down and lifting up is not to make us all the same, as though mere equality were a virtue. Rather, it is to help us to fix our attention on the One who made us, on our need of a Savior, and on our interdependence with each other, whatever our station in life. Hannah sings that God guards even the feet of those who are needy and call on Him, but cuts off the wicked. Human power, then, is not the be-all and end-all. History is full of surprises, the most poignant being that of the tiny baby born in a cave but heralded by the angels, for He was the King of kings. After all, the LORD has made the entire world, and sustains it, both by means of His Holy Spirit, and by means of the order that He has implanted in it, and that continues to exist, despite our fallen condition. In all Hannah’s joy, there remains a sober note that we should take to heart. Yes, God has assured us that He is coming again to right all wrongs. However, anything that is not upheld by His power will not stand—and so, like Hannah, we commit ourselves, and everything that He has given us, to Him. Hannah’s final word, that God will exalt the power of his Anointed One, points us forward to Mary, the Mother of that Christ, that One anointed by the very Spirit of God.
The venerable Bede, in commenting on same themes of humility and chastened arrogance in the song of the Theotokos, explains to us the difficulty faced by those who are mighty in their own eyes:
Undoubtedly they are called proud because they extol themselves beyond measure as mighty with regard to their condition—not, however, because they are truly mighty, but because they trust in their own strength and scorn to seek their Maker’s assistance. They, however, are truly mighty who know how to say with the apostle, “We can do all things in him who strengthens us, the Lord Jesus Christ. (Homilies on the Gospels 1:14)
Bede sees clearly that the Magnificat, in the end, is about the LORD of all. Yes, Mary’s song is about God’s ways in the world. Her song is about God’s plan for Israel and the Gentiles. Her song is about how God has exalted her, the humble one. But, beyond all this, it is all about her Son! God has shown strength with His “arm”—that is, the Lord Jesus Himself, by whom God reaches into our world and does wonders. We hear the Magnificat of the Theotokos frequently in our worship, and rejoice in the blessing that God has shown to her, and to us. The larger part of that blessing, though, is to do as holy Mary did, and hide all these things in our hearts, meditating upon the goodness of God.
When we hear the words of this prayer, let us put the story frame around it, remembering the newly conceived God-Man who was recognized even in the womb by his cousin John, and about whom Elizabeth, the virgin Mary, and indeed all the prophets spoke. The One who is the greatest of all humbled Himself for our sake. And so the greatest blessing we can imagine is to remain in His presence forever. As Christina Rossetti wrote, over a century ago:
Our God, heav’n cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain.
Heaven and earth will flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak mid-winter a stable place sufficed
The LORD God almighty Jesus Christ.What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a wiseman, I would do my part,
Yet what I can I give him, give my heart!
Edith M. Humphrey 