Mary’s Song

Tom Barnard

t’s Advent. It’s time to sing again. It’s time to sing of Christmas. According to the American Society of Composers, the list of the top 25 “most-performed Holiday songs for the first five years of the 21^st Century” does not include any traditional Christmas Carols. Amazing, isn’t it?

In case you are interested, the number one “Holiday” song in terms of public performances is “Christmas Song” (“Chestnuts roasting on an open fire”). Number two is “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town.” Doesn’t that just bless your heart? The closest to a religious theme is number fifteen: “Feliz Navidad.” Ouch.

I want to hear “Mary’s Song” this year. (It isn’t in your hymnal). It is recorded in Luke’s gospel, Chapter One. In the Third Gospel, Mary takes center stage. She speaks; she sings; she worships; she obeys God. But her introduction to the world is low key. She is pictured as being very young, very poor, unmarried, and pregnant—ideal for the socially-minded but uncomfortable for the cultic-minded. To say that Luke pictures her among the overlooked by society is an understatement.

But Mary was not overlooked by God. Of all the young women God could have chosen to be the mother of the Savior, God chose well. Young Jewish girls were raised to be homemakers, not poets. They were trained to be seamstresses, not scholars. They were instructed in things domestic, not things prophetic. Mary, as it turned out, excelled in all of these. And she could sing! Her song begins with these words:

"My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me—holy is his name. His mercy extends to those who fear him…." (Luke 1:46-49).

In the full passage (1:46-55) this humble, young child with no formal education paints a word picture to delight the most gifted poet. She tells of a recently-conceived Savior who would announce freedom for all who believe that God will make a way where there seems to be no way. She proclaims that this Savior will bring deliverance to captives and will correct injustice everywhere. She sings of a God who has “brought down rulers from their thrones” while at the same time elevating the humble. She remembers the God of Abraham and exalts the God of Jesus Christ—even before Christ is born.

Are you ready to hear Mary’s song again? The world isn’t. It doesn’t know Mary’s God. Our leaders have sought their gods in strange places—in secular academia, in drugs of addiction, in dishonest practices, in political power, in immoral living, in self-centered schemes to gain wealth, in lies, in outright fraud, in deceptive handling of the public trust, in ways that would have been totally rejected by the founders of our nation. The world at large isn’t listening for Mary’s song. But we are. And what does Mary’s song tell us?

Mary’s Song tells of a God who keeps his promises.

Mary’s Song tells of hope for those who have no hope.

Mary’s Song tells of a Savior who will redeem the lost.

Mary’s Song tells of a future that is immeasurably more beautiful than the past or present.

Mary’s Song tells of the Holy Spirit who visited Nazareth so long ago and is still at work today.

Professor James Kay of Princeton raises some serious questions about Mary’s God:

“Can Mary’s God truly be our Lord and our God—the God who overturns the way the world works, who elects the least and the last to bring in the kingdom, whose judgment in every sense will save the poor, the wronged and the oppressed? Can the God who is going to knock the powerful off their peacock thrones, their stock exchange seats, their professional chairs, and their benches of judgment really be our God? Can we really praise this God—Mary’s God?”

Yes we can! We must! Our songs of Advent may not be on the world’s “favorite 25” list, but they are on our list. And we will sing. Why? Because it’s time to sing again. It’s Advent—it’s time to celebrate.