Jesus rests in a manger in the days to come, but don’t be fooled.
What better way to observe Advent than with song, and what better song than Mary’s? The song contains two great themes of Advent: repentance and hope. We do well to learn from Mary, especially about humility and joy, two great themes of the Christian life.
“He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts” (Luke 1:51).
We like verses like this when directed at someone else when the proverbial bad guy is brought low, when Hitler dies like a coward in a bunker below Berlin, or Saddam Hussein crawls like a rat out of a pathetic hole in the ground in Iraq. But when we are “the proud,” how often do we protest, complain, waver in faith, or shake our fists at God? When it’s our time to be disciplined, tested, and humbled, how often are we inclined to let the God of the crucifix shrink from our view and long for a god who delivers only ease and luxury, immediate gratification, and the fading glory of the fallen?
“And his mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation” (Luke 1:50).
Do you fear God, or is he like a server who brings you treats or a busboy who cleans up your messes? Do you take his word as a suggestion; do you consider what he calls sin as a joke? You will be humbled. You will learn, even if it must be the hard way. Mary’s song is clear. The proud must be taught the fear of the Lord; the lowly will be comforted.
“My soul magnifies the Lord” (Luke 1:46).
When the Lord has allowed crosses into your life, has his cross been enlarged in your view, or has it shrunk into the background? Has his justification been your consolation, or have you undertaken your own desperate quest for self-righteousness? God often strips us of the things we love, most precisely to fill the void. He takes away our idols so he can be our God.
There are two types of people who never truly learn to love and praise God, though they might pay him lip service. The first are those who only praise him when he does them well, in their opinion. The second are those who steal credit for his gifts for themselves. Both never, from experience, learn what it is to love God, trust him, and praise him because both are unwilling to be brought low. Rejoice, then, when God humbles you. He will raise you anew, freed from your bellies, freed for your neighbors.
Underneath your crosses, there’s no tear you can cry now that he who hung upon a cross for you won’t wipe away. For the sake of Christian love, there’s no disappointment you endure now that will not be turned to joy in the undeserved gift of paradise found. This Child would hardly be for me what Mary calls him, “God my Savior,” (vs. 47) if I worked and hoped for there never to be anything in which he might be just that, from which he might save me.
Insignificant as she may have appeared in the eyes of her contemporaries, Mary was called to be the Mother of God. You, too, have a sacred calling, no matter what you or others might think.
Jesus rests in a manger in the days to come, but don’t be fooled. This baby is no pushover. He made his way from heaven above, into Mary’s womb, to the cross, and out of the tomb. Nothing will keep him from you, too, and he comes with mercy. Come, Lord Jesus, come!
