These realities have impacted the life and ministries of all our congregations. Like those who returned to Judah after Babylonian captivity, we too face harsh circumstances and are in need of the prophet’s proclamation of God’s renewal of a devastated country. Former exiles in Judah are given the task of participating in God’s salvific work of rebuilding and repair: “They shall build up the ancient ruins, they shall raise up the former devastations; they shall repair the ruined cities, the devastations of many generations” (61:4). Moreover, in the revived community, the oppressed will see God reverse their fortunes: God “has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed” (61:1). In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus embraces Isaiah’s vision as a programmatic statement of the nature and course of his own ministry:
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because God has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
God has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (Luke 4:18-19)
Thus, his mother’s lyrical Magnificat (Luke 1:46b-5 — an alternative text for Advent 3) is aptly paired with Isaiah 61, for Mary’s song prefigures Jesus’ own embrace of the Isaianic vision, presenting possibilities for proclaiming the gospel on this third Sunday of Advent.
A good place to begin is with the great leveling of circumstances projected for those marginalized, for any rebuilding of a country in the spirit of Isaiah’s vision must begin there. Mary’s description of this reversal is particularly poignant. She describes herself as lowly — a reference not to her humility, but to her poverty-stricken circumstances. Luke would debunk any inclination on our parts to romanticize the biblical poor, for it has more to say about economic injustice than any other Gospel. So why is Mary singing? Her song projects a remarkable vision of the destiny of the world and of God’s activity in it. One of the most extraordinary things about it is that her references to God’s work are all conveyed in the past tense: “God has shown strength with God’s arm; and has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. God has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; God has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty” (Luke 1:51-52). Why does she speak of these things in the past tense? Perhaps because one of the ways in which faithful people express trust in God is to speak of the future with such confidence that it is described as already here. This kind of faith is a prerequisite to participation in efforts to partner with God in bringing about that future. Thus the future is articulated – even celebrated – as memory. Indeed, for Luke, celebrating the future as memory is the way in which people of God live in the world and participate in God’s activity in it — with a robust confidence that the work has already been done!
The point is not that we are kingdom builders; God has already intervened dramatically in the world in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ to initiate God’s commonwealth. Empowered by the same Spirit that empowered Jesus, we position ourselves to participate in the work of God who is already redeeming and liberating the world. Mary’s song describes that redeeming and liberating activity as a great leveling that brings people eye to eye, rich and poor, high and lowly, as fellow children of God. As New Testament scholar Barbara Reid points out: “Mary sings not of how God will reverse the roles and put on top those who had been oppressed. Rather, she envisions God’s justice creating a circle in which all have an equal place at the table, all are in right relation” (in “New Perspectives on the Nativity,” edited by Jeremy Corley). In short, right and just relation between the poor and the rich, the high and the lowly, is what God envisions for us and for our world and the work in which God is already engaged. The way to partner in God’s future vision for us – one that God is already enacting – is to sing and live into Mary’s song, as if it were already present to us.
Practically speaking, what does that mean? In a word, it means leveling — or bringing people eye to eye, face to face, from the heights and the depths of our social worlds. And the only way that leveling is likely to happen in a world of gross inequity is by lifting up voices that have been suppressed, because they are critical for our understanding of what is actually happening on the ground and at the margins. We must listen carefully to the marginalized in our world: low-income workers, those without work or underworked, essential workers who find themselves at risk, to name but a few. We must fully register their fears, anger, hopes and visions, for as theologian Miguel de la Torre, puts it in “The Politics of Jesús,” they have an “epistemological privilege” — which is to say that those on the underside of our world have a more accurate grasp of what it is happening on the ground and of what is needed if they are to function and survive in a world where they lack privilege. Dominant culture can be oblivious to their plight, for white privilege obscures vision. In spite of their circumstances, the oppressed and the poor have hopes and dreams beyond survival, and listening to their voices is one of the most practical ways to embody Mary’s song and vision for our world, and to discern ways to be in solidarity.
I had a mundane experience at the beginning of Advent that in retrospect strikes me as a ritualization of Mary's song — as the Genches put up our Christmas tree. As is our custom, we bought a rather small, unimpressive tree from the cheapest place we could find one. This one was so misshapen that it cost only $10. As usual, my wife was undeterred by our forlorn purchase. She secured it in its stand and almost as an act of faith began dressing the tree. Out of guilt I eventually joined her. A peace dove, a gift from a base community we visited in El Salvador in the early 1990s, always has a privileged place at the top of the tree, and the most expensive ornament, a gift from a former parishioner that came in a box from Neiman Marcus, got its usual place near the bottom. Tiny olive wood ornaments from a Palestinian co-op on the West Bank always get prominent positions in the branches, along with mementos from trips to Presbyterian churches in Ghana and Havana. (Ornaments featuring the White House, Santa Claus and my favorite baseball teams are relegated to lower, inconspicuous branches.) A few red Christmas bows here and there, a simple string of white lights and, before I knew it, the tree was beautiful. As we were working on this project, I realized that it symbolized the gospel in important respects, for a little bit of everything was on that tree: a leveling of voices from around the world and an intentional privileging of voices from the margins – so that we might catch a glimpse of their visions of what Christ’s incarnation represents – and thus a glimpse of what God is up to in our world. Perhaps it can help us learn to speak of God’s future as memory and summon our participation as it continues to struggle toward realization now. May it be so.
As you ponder Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11 and Luke 1:46b-55, consider:
1. What strikes you about Isaiah’s vision of renewal for a devastated country, and what is its relevance for the life of your congregation?
2 How is your congregation participating in God’s work of repairing our world?
3. Mary’s song speaks of God’s work in the past tense, suggesting that God’s future is already in some sense present to us. What does this contribute to your reflection on God’s activity in our world and your participation in it?
4. What strikes you most about Mary’s song — and what questions does it raise for you?
5. If the reversal of roles of which Mary sings is more like a leveling, what does this mean for your life and ministry? How can we sing and live into Mary’s song?
6. How might your congregation attend to the voices of those who live in the margins of your community in efforts to learn more about what is actually happening on the ground — and where God may be summoning your partnership in divine work?
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