Observation: This song Mary sings during her visit to Elizabeth has been called the "Magnificat", for the Latin for "magnify" at the song's beginning. It's worth noting that when Mary sings this song, all she has to go on are God's promises (via the angel) and Elizabeth's faith and love. She has not yet met this Son she is carrying, seen the authority of his teaching and the power of his healing, his compassion for the poor or his challenge to the privileged. Everything she sings is in the present tense, though none of it has happened yet. Still, she sings, because this is the timeless truth of how God intervenes in history: lifting up the lowly, humbling the proud. It has happened before, and it will again.
Application: It's a lot easier to sing joyfully about being lifted up than torn down. It's more fun to think of oneself as hungry, and about to be filled by God's generosity, than to be rich and about to be sent away empty. But if I'm being honest, I'm probably in the latter category a lot of the time. I may not think of myself as "proud", but the way I react when I feel I've been disrespected may tell another story. I may not think of myself as "powerful", but I do have a voice and vote in the most powerful democracy in history, and as a straight, white, middle class, Christian man, I occupy an privileged position even within that society. I may not be in "the 1%", but in the global population, I'm rich.
My first step in hearing this song of Mary's is to know what side of the equation I'm on, and understand that I may well be one about to be "brought down" instead of "lifted up." That's a hard step in itself, but the second step is harder: to envision how that "bringing down," that "emptying", is in fact a blessing. And it is. To the extent that I can be "brought down" in humility, to the extent that I can really understand that I own nothing and I depend on God for everything, I can trust in God in ways that are totally unknown to me now. Even more, it's a participation in the very nature of Christ, the Second Person of the Trinity, who was in the form of God, but didn't cling to power and glory, but instead willingly emptied himself and took on human form: the form of a slave. It may not feel that way, but to be brought down is a blessing.
In my case, I don't think this "bringing down" means selling all my possessions and donating all future earnings to charity. If I did that, someone else would have to pay my rent and feed my three kids. But it is a continual humbling--over and over again--and recognizing every bit of power, privilege, and property that goes through my hands is borrowed, and intended for the use of God's reign, which always lifts up the lowly. I'm either working with and for that reign, or against it. No dollar or day I spend, vote I cast, or word I say is neutral.
Prayer: God, bring me down. And please...help me mean that when I say it, because I struggle to mean it sometimes. Bring me down, Lord. Amen.
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