Wednesday of the Fourth Week of Advent

O Rex Gentium, et desideratus earum,
lapisque angularis, qui facis utraque unum:
veni, et salva hominem,
quem de limo formasti.
O King of all the nations, the only joy of every human heart;
O Keystone of the mighty arch of man:
Come and save the creature you fashioned from the dust.

“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord;
my spirit rejoices in God my savior.
for he has looked upon his lowly servant.
From this day all generations will call me blessed...


Mary’s Magnificat has a very special place in our liturgy. We recite or sing it every day during our Evening Prayer, or Vespers. That places it right up there with the Our Father, as a prayer of importance.  (By the way, the Church recommends the Liturgy of the Hours to everyone, not just priests and religious, and not just Catholics! It is more than a private devotion like the rosary or Bible reading; it is the “prayer of the whole church.”)

         My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord;
        my spirit rejoices in God my savior.

The Magnificat (Latin from the first word of the song meaning magnifies or glorifies.) describes that ideal which we would all love to have, a confident sense of self-worth which is able to acknowledge blessings received and favors granted, and to forget oneself in the love of God.

Mary sings, “All ages to come will call me blessed!” But her statement is not arrogant, it is simply an expression of the astonishing truth. As the Mother of Jesus, she will be remembered as the woman who received him and knew him as only a mother can know a human being. She knew his body forming in her womb and his decision to be born in the fullness of time. She knew the pull of his nursing and the mess of his diapers. She knew his tender cheek on her neck and the gentle weight of his infant body. Can anyone be more blessed than she who received and gave her only son for the salvation of the world?

But Mary soon forgets about herself:

He has mercy on those who fear him
in every generation.
He has shown the strength of his arm,
and has scattered the proud in their conceit.

Her life and her songs are for God. A thousand years later Saint Francis would say of God, “You are good, all good, supreme good!” If we cannot look on the face of God, we can look in that direction, as Mary does, and sense the infinite goodness of God. It is so fascinating and delightful and beautiful we forget ourselves.

Mary remembers God’s mercy and justice, two qualities which seem opposed in human affairs. A judge who shows mercy to a convicted criminal may not be acting with justice, and vice versa. But God’s mercy is for the powerless, the despised, and the faithful -- and that is justice:

He has cast down the mighty from their thrones
and has lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent away empty.

Mary lived among the despised and powerless. She saw, even as a girl, Roman soldiers sweep through her village in search of rebel Galileans. She knew what the poor have always known, there is plenty for everyone if only everyone will share. There is no need to hoard.

And she knew that God provides for his little ones whom he has made from the dust of the earth.