A Thrill of Hope | Luke 1:46-56

Introduction

I recently was reflecting on the uniqueness of Thanksgiving—it’s a holiday that is always dropped right in the middle of the work week, and it has its own rituals with turkeys, hot dishes, football, Macy Parade, etc—and yet it has none of the build up or anticipation as Christmas. We don’t kick off November anticipating and celebrating the coming Thanksgiving Day. We don’t have curated Thanksgiving playlists on Spotify that we start playing early in October. 

Another way of saying this is that there is something unique about the Christmas season. There are certain traditions, rituals, liturgies that we all follow every year this time of year. Decorating the house, playing certain albums (The Andy Williams Christmas Album is the greatest Christmas album and I don’t make the rules), watching certain movies, opening presents on a specific date at a very specific time of night in a very specific order…you understand.

Historically, the church also follows a liturgical calendar and we launch this morning with the season of Advent. Advent, as I’m sure you know, comes from the latin word meaning “coming”. For centuries, the church of Christ has set apart the 4 Sundays leading up to Christmas Day as days to reflect on and anticipate the coming of Christ both 2000 years ago and his future coming again. Traditionally, those 4 Sundays each have their own theme: hope, peace, joy, and love. This really is the most wonderful time of the year.

But have you ever paused and considered this question: why winter? If we’re celebrating the birth of Christ, why not do that in Spring when all of nature is blooming and coming alive at the same time? Why not summer when we can go outside and marvel at the abundance of life in the natural world? Why winter when everything is cold, dead, frozen?

Christina Rossetti’s famous Christmas poem describes the setting of Christmas well:

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,

Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;

Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,

In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Rossetti is not describing here the nativity scene, but rather her own childhood Christmas memories in England—likely similar to your childhood Christmas memories. It’s cold, snowy, right in the middle of the yearly long winter up here in the frozen North.

And yet, in the midst of that bleak midwinter, like a little flicker of light in the midst of darkness, hope stirs. That is the exciting wonder of Christmas, and it is the beauty and majesty of our text this morning. For 400 hundred years, the divine, authoritative revelation of God through his prophets had gone dark, silent. The curtain of the great drama of redemption had fallen on Act 1 at the end of Malachi and the intermission had gone on—and the people of God had asked a question similar to what the Israelites had asked after their 400 years of slavery in Egypt: has God forgotten us?

And it is this setting, in that bleak midwinter, that the fullness of time came. And an angel appears to a young bride-to-be from the middle of nowhere in some nondescript town to announce seismic yet glorious news: this virgin would give birth to the very Son of God. And what could have been received as devastating and further dark news due to the societal implications of a bride-to-be showing clear signs of pregnancy, Mary responds to the angel Gabriel with remarkable faith:

And Mary said, “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.”

—Luke 1:38

This news received by such incredible faith is the spark, the light that begins to glow in the midst of the darkness. And this is a fitting place for us to start our advent season.

This Advent season we are going to be looking at 4 different songs that mark the gospel writer Luke’s account of the events surrounding the birth of Jesus. These songs are divinely inspired, beautiful songs that seem to just bubble out of angels, and priests, and simple saints, and even the young mother of Jesus, Mary. And it is that song that we are going to look at this morning.

As we mentioned earlier, the Lord’s divine, authoritative revelation had gone silent for some 400 years between the testaments. Of course, we know from extra-biblical accounts and history that even though the prophetic revelation of God was silent did not mean that God was inactive. Far from it. The sovereign God was doing what he always does—manueving kings and nations and empires and people in precise ways to bring about his glorious redemptive purposes.

And after years of silence, divine and Spirit-directed revelation and prophecy is breaking out all over the place. From the glorious visit of the arch-angel Gabriel to Mary to announce the birth of Christ to the angel visiting Zechariah to announce the birth of John the Baptist, something new is happening. The Spirit, while never absent, is on the move and the wintery snow on the people of God is melting. Incredible.

And Mary’s song does not come out of a vacuum. There is a context here that is important. After receiving this shocking news from the angel, Mary sets out to visit her cousin Elizabeth. Likely shell-shocked with what is happening to her, terrified of others noticing the growing baby-bump, she seeks comfort and counsel from her beloved cousin.

Little did Mary know that a miracle was also at work in Elizabeth’s life with John the Baptist growing in her formerly barren womb. Luke describes their greeting this way:

And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the baby 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 to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For behold, when the sound of your greeting came to my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.”

 —Luke 1:41–45

Not overly discreet. But it is this announcement, coupled with her astonishing visit from the angel, that caused Mary to sing this incredible song that has echoed through the ages since. 

Mary’s song has traditionally been called the Magnificat, a name derived from the first line of the hymn in the Latin version: Magnificat anima mea Dominum, meaning, “My soul magnifies the Lord.”

The opening stanza of this song sets the tone for the rest of the song. After being declared blessed by Elizabeth, Mary instinctually turns her gaze to the heavens and cries out…

“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.

—Luke 1:46–47

In the original Greek as well as in the earliest Latin translations, the word for magnify is right at the front, denoting its importance. And think of what it means to magnify something. This word here means to enlarge or to spotlight or to make a big deal out of something. And that’s exactly what Mary seeks to do here. She is overwhelmed by the sovereign grace of God and can only help but express to all who would listen of the magnificence and greatest of the Lord.

Notice what it is that is doing the magnifying. It’s not just the volume of her voice that is doing the magnifying, like an amplification. No, that’s simply the fruit of something much deeper. Calvin comments on this saying…

As hypocrites, for the most part, sing the praises of God with open mouth, unaccompanied by any affection of the heart, Mary says that she praises God from an inward feeling of the mind. And certainly they who pronounce his glory, not from the mind, but with the tongue alone, do nothing more than profane his holy name. The words soul and spirit are used in Scripture in various senses, but, when employed together, they denote chiefly two faculties of the soul; spirit being taken for the understanding, and soul for the seat of the affections.

—John Calvin

We can learn much from the example of Mary, not least of which is her heart-felt singing from the depths of her soul. And the reason why she can sing so passionately is because of the object of her song. Notice, not only is she singing praises to the Lord, but she understands that the marvelous thing that the Lord has done in conceiving this child is not the end of his miracles, but the beginning—Mary’s spirit rejoices in her Savior.

This child she is carrying will not just be a king, will not just sit on David’s throne and rule forever, but this child will save all his people, including his mother, from their sins. This is the object of her joy—not some sentimental or fleeting emotion, but her joy is fixed on something much greater than herself, on the majestic reality that this child she carries is the savior and redeemer of God’s people. That is what informs, directs, and governs her song and her singing.
Do we sing that? When we get together to sing, especially during this familiar and wonderful season where well-known melodies and perfectly memorized lyrics just flow out of us—are we mindful of what it is we are singing. And not just aware, but affected?

Joy to the World (v. 3):

No more let sins and sorrows grow,

nor thorns infest the ground;

He comes to make His blessings flow

far as the curse is found.

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel (v. 3):

O come, O Bright and Morning Star,

and bring us comfort from afar!

Dispel the shadows of the night

and turn our darkness into light.

Hark! The Herald Angels Sing (v. 3):

Hail the heav'n-born Prince of Peace!

Hail the Son of Righteousness!

Light and life to all He brings,

Ris'n with healing in His wings.

Mild He lays His glory by,

Born that man no more may die,

Born to raise the sons of earth,

Born to give them second birth.

Hark! The herald angels sing,

“Glory to the newborn King!”

Don’t let these words just float by in the mist of nostalgia. Cosmic redemptive realities are at play here. Be moved, be effected by the gracious God who has seen fit to not leave us as we deserve, he has not left us in the winters of our souls! Through this child, this son born to young Mary, he has acted decisively against our sin and has brought the light of life into our darkness.

At Emmaus Road Church, we love to sing. And the reason we love to sing and the reason we love to sing the songs that we sing is because we love the one we sing about. We want to sing of the greatness of our Lord and to rejoice in all that he has done for us in Christ our Savior. So, be like Mary, and sing from the soul!

As we said earlier, v. 46–47 functions as almost a heading over the rest of the song. It sets the tone and gives explanation of what is to follow. And from what follows, I believe there are 3 realities that Mary, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, describes about the incarnation. With the coming of Christ…

God sees the lowly

Mary’s soul rejoices and magnifies the Lord, and does so IN the fact that God is acting to save sinners. That’s praise worthy. But v. 48 begins with that all important word: FOR. There is an additional staggering reality to Mary’s experience and it is the fact that the Lord has looked on her and sees her. 

Reminder (as you all know): Mary is not some wealthy, royal, daughter from some aristocratic family in the metropolis of Jerusalem. She is a young, humble, quiet girl from a small town who is betrothed to a good, just, blue-collar man, not some powerful royal prince. And yet, the Lord has seen fit to execute his majestic plan of salvation through the most unlikeliest means and the most unlikeliest person: through a young and humble virgin in the middle of nowhere.

One of the most striking features of this claim is that the Lord sees her—or has the text says “he has looked on” her. This looking, this seeing is not simply just someone or something happening in front of you that your eyes catch and that you physically see, but this word communicates to gaze upon, or to look attentively with concern and care. 

2 Chronicles 16:9 identifies one aspect of “looking” when it says…

For the eyes of the LORD run to and fro throughout the whole earth…

—2 Chronicles 16:9

Yes, the sovereign, omniscient and omnipresent creator does have his eye on his creation and nothing takes place outside of his watch, but there is an intimacy about Mary’s verse. God not only sees her in an absolute, sovereign way, but he cares for her. He knows her. He sees her truly.

What a thing it is to be known by the Lord. Is there anything more comforting, more anxiety-diminishing than the promise that even in the midst of darkness and suffering, our God sees. Even when I feel like the tides of suffering are rising, our God sees.

We’ve all experienced seasons of spiritual darkness. Seasons where you feel like no one sees, no one cares, what you are going through. Seasons of isolation, seasons where you wake up and just feel numb—you gather with the people of God every week and feel refreshed, but the work week and the kids and your health and everything else bury you, and you feel like you're sinking. 

We just finished preaching through the epic tale of Exodus. Recall all the way back in Exodus 2, after Moses has described the horrific conditions that the Hebrews were living in under the tyrannical Pharoah and when all seemed lost, Moses penned these words…

During those many days the king of Egypt died, and the people of Israel groaned because of their slavery and cried out for help. Their cry for rescue from slavery came up to God. And God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob. God saw the people of Israel—and God knew.

—Exodus 2:23–25

To the God who never forgets, seeing is knowing. He sees Mary and knows Mary, and he sees you and knows you. What tremendous comfort that should give those who are in the midst of a bleak midwinter. Or, as Jesus comforts us…

“Behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

—Matthew 28:20

God humbles the proud

One of the most striking lines in this beautiful song is that majestic declaration in v. 49…

for he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name.

—Luke 1:49

He who is mighty—or more literally, “the Able One”, the “Powerful One”—he has not only seen the lowly, but has acted on their behalf. These great things that he has done is first and foremost the promise of this coming Redeemer who will save his people from their sins. But there is more.

When the angel Gabriel was announcing the birth of Christ, look at how he describes the child to be born…

And the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”

—Luke 1:30–33

The child that will be born will be a King. He will rule and reign over all the kings of the earth and, as Isaiah puts it in Isaiah 9…

Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end, on the throne of David and over his kingdom, to establish it and to uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time forth and forevermore. The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this.

—Isaiah 9:7

Once again, consider the ironies and juxtapositions of these promises. The King, not just of Israel, nor Rome, but the King of Kings was to be born to a lowly virgin and to grow up outside the public eye. And it is in his coming that the proud are made low and humbled. This is exactly like God. This is how he makes promises. This is how he gets such tremendous glory. Like Elijah on Mt. Carmel, it was not enough that he displayed his power over the false prophets of Baal, but Elijah drowned the altar with water so that if it was to burn, it would be from fire from Heaven. And with one simple prayer from an ordinary man, GLORY!

The same is true here in Mary’s song. The upside down logic of the gospel is on display here. Listen again to how Mary sings of the great upending that will come with the birth of this King…

He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts; he has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate; he has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty.

—Luke 1:51–53

Notice all the verbs here are in the past-tense. This has always been how God acts. He uses the humble to bring down the haughty. The Lord has worked on behalf of his people in the past. Yes, he has fought for his people time and time again, despite their sin and disobedience. Yes, he brought them out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm—but here in Luke 1, Mary is looking forward. The Mighty One of Patriarchs has his eye on the lowliest and is now acting in a way like never before. The king is coming, and all the proud, foolish, arrogant kings of the world will cast their crowns at his feet. They will kiss the Son, or they will perish on the way.

Can you feel the confidence in Mary’s voice? The mighty and haughty will be laid low when the man comes around. When the King comes into his court, all knees will be bowed. Justice will rule and all enemies will be put under his feet. And the incredible news is that this King knows you and sees you and has invited you to his table. 

Remember Psalm 23…

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

—Psalm 23:5–6

This hope, trusting in these promises, can have such a stabilizing effect in our day to day lives. The total, emphatic, decisive triumph of the Lord over all evil is the thrill of hope we celebrate at Christmas and it is in that hope that Mary sings. So do you feel the world is broken—injustice in the world and in your day to day life, strife at work, and in your home? Do you feel the shadows deepen—feeling like the darkness of your current circumstances is total and there is no hope? Join in Mary’s song and magnify the victorious King who has come to save his people from their sins. One final glorious reality about the incarnation we can learn from Mary’s song…

God fulfills his promises

It is the final stanza of Mary’s song—v. 54–55—that the covenantal nature of the Lord’s saving acts come to the forefront. The great covenantal promises of old are now being delivered on. The promised blessed offspring announced to Abraham in Genesis 15 is now come. First promised in Genesis 3:15, the seed of the woman who would crush the head of the snake, the one the patriarchs, the judges, the priests, the kings, and the prophets were all looking for is finally here.

And these promises extend beyond just the nation and people of Israel—it is cosmic in its scale. The mercy Mary sings of in v. 54 extends now to the offspring of Abraham. However—is the hope of Christmas simply or exclusively the hope of Israel? Paul, writing to the Gentile churches in the region of Galatia answers that question for us…

Know then that it is those of faith who are the sons of Abraham. And the Scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, preached the gospel beforehand to Abraham, saying, “In you shall all the nations be blessed.” So then, those who are of faith are blessed along with Abraham, the man of faith.

—Galatians 3:7–9

To whom do all the incredible promises of the New Testament, made “Yes and Amen” by the child growing in Mary’s womb, apply? Who are to be benefactors of all these great promises? Promises like…

Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.

—Romans 5:1

For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.

—2 Corinthians 5:21

But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that being justified by his grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.

—Titus 3:4–7

Who can comprehend these majestic promises? Who is sufficient for such things? Through his incredible mercy, these promises are extended to those who share in the faith of Abraham. The faith of Abraham. The one who heard what God said and believed it. And he trusted it so much that he obeyed his commands. 

Do you trust him? Do you share in that same faith? Are you resting in the finished work of Christ today? We must never forget that in the midst of the joy and warmth of Christmas, the shadow of the cross of Christ looms in the distance. This baby was born—yes! Hallelujah!—but he was born for a purpose. Christ came in order that the promises of God may be fulfilled, but that road runs straight through Calvary, and there is no other way in which we might be saved. In time, the same pregnant Mary singing in Luke 1 will stand at the foot of the cross of her son as he bears the sins of the whole world, including your sin and my sin, and the very wrath of God. 

And yet…he who is mighty truly has done great things for us. By taking on our flesh, by condescending and humbling himself so low, the Son of God was able to conquer death’s sting. God himself was made low in order that we might be raised up with him. That the poor might become rich and that humble sinners be made righteous. That evil would be conquered and the wicked vanquished, and that the Kingdom of God might be inaugurated and come down to earth as it is in heaven.

Do you belong to that kingdom? Do you love this child born of a virgin and who suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead and was buried? And do you trust this Savior who rose again from the dead and is right now seated at the right hand of God the Father Almighty, in whom all authority on heaven and on earth has been given? My friends, do not let this Christmas season, this advent rush by you without reflecting deeply on what it is we celebrate, and all that comes from this birth.

Tell it to your kids. Tell it to your parents. Tell it to yourself. And trust all that Christ is for you and for me, and rejoice in his saving work.