Lent: Day 2

Luke 1.39-80

The really fun thing about today's passage from Luke is that it contains two canticles, or hymns: the Magnificat of Mary and the Canticle of Zechariah. We may speculate--though we certainly cannot prove--that these hymns reflect liturgical practices of the Lukan community. More significantly, though, these two hymns quickly became incorporated into the worship of churches and, particularly, into the daily offices of monastic communities. Generations of Christians have recited or sung these canticles on a regular basis. They have been primary sources for our corporate language about who God is, who we are, and what God has done for us through Christ. With that in mind, then, let's take a closer look at the two hymns.

The Magnificat of Mary:

The "title" of this hymn comes from the Vulgate Latin in which Mary's soul magnificat the Lord. She glorifies, magnifies, and extols her God because "he has considered the lowliness of his servant." Take a moment to read through the images of this song. Notice the constant contrasts between competing values. The great Lord considers his lowly slave. The mighty are pulled from their thrones while the lowly are exalted. The hungry are fed but the rich sent away empty. The same God who shows power in his right arm also takes Israel by the hand as a child. The God who communed with Abraham is still at work now with a young girl through whose humble status great and wondrous things shall be accomplished.

The Canticle of Zechariah:

Whereas Mary's hymn is more social and political in nature, Zechariah's is explicitly religious. Zechariah sings the glory of the Lord's salvation for his people. He connects the proclamations of the ancient prophets to the role his newly born son will have in preparing the way of the Lord. The God who saves us from our enemies and establishes a covenant with his people will also save us from sin through merciful compassion. It is through this compassion--proclaimed by the prophet John and embodied by the incarnate Christ--that we will emerge from the shadow of death into the light of life and walk upon the path of peace.

We in the Protestant Church lost a great form of spiritual formation when we rebelled so strongly against monastic practice. An over-correction based upon legitimate complaints led us to lose the piety that establishes habits of virtue through the contemplative repetition and singing of these songs. Chanting, singing, or simply reading these words regularly offers a different way of engaging scripture, one more powerful, I think, than mere "study." They also offer a different understanding of what the core of the Christian Gospel is.

What would it mean to have a faith--both corporate and personal--shaped by these hymns? What would our Christian life look like if we daily proclaimed the God who is at work in history, who exalts the lowly and humbles the proud, and who works with compassion for the salvation of his people? What would it mean if this were the language of our faith and practice?