Pregnant Hope | Sojourners

Pregnant Hope

Mary reminds us that, ultimately, the mighty will be brought down from their thrones and the hungry will be filled with good things.
Illustration by Cate Andrews

DURING ADVENT, I always love reading and reflecting on Mary’s Magnificat, which begins, “My soul magnifies the Lord.” This song is more well-known and treasured within the Catholic Church than in my own tradition; I didn’t fully learn to appreciate it until I started delving deeper into Catholic social teaching. It is easy to gloss over how radical and profound this song of praise is (“He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty”), both when Mary proclaimed these words as well as for us today. This song, which is only found in the gospel of Luke, comes just after Mary greets her cousin Elizabeth, who is pregnant with John the Baptist and whose baby moves within her womb.

Mary’s song provides a timeless dose of pregnant hope during a year that has been characterized by so much peril, loss, and hardship. As we prepare to put 2021 behind us, it is important to take the time to properly lament the tragedy and heartache of this past year, including the hundreds of thousands of largely preventable deaths to COVID-19; the ways our democracy and the right to vote have come under increasing assault; the stark, often-devastating reminders of our mounting climate catastrophe; and so much more.

Mary’s song helps us transition from necessary lament to fervent praise, because even amid great suffering and inequity, she offers a hopeful reminder of God’s promises and character. Mary reminds us that, ultimately, the proud will be scattered, the mighty brought down from their thrones, and the hungry filled with good things.

In the season of Advent, as we anticipate the birth of our Savior, the one who is called “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6), we can all find hope in Mary’s hymn. Hope that the dark days of this pandemic are numbered. Hope that a new and radically more equitable “normal” is both necessary and within our grasp. Hope that a steadfast love toward our neighbors as well as our enemies can replace so much of the enmity and contempt that has poisoned our culture and politics. Hope that a record-breaking year of climate catastrophes will generate a long overdue tipping point in political will. Hope that we all can experience a deeper sense of fellowship and community as we return to in-person worship. Hope that we can learn some valuable and lasting lessons from this long and painful pandemic season of exile and wilderness, including those things that we can let go of and those things that we hold most dear.

Mary’s song provides a much-needed injection of hope as we prepare to embrace the possibilities and promise of a new year. Because if we can internalize and act on Mary’s timeless call to lift up the lowly, practice humility, and feed the hungry, 2022 will almost assuredly be a much more hopeful and gratifying year.

This appears in the January 2022 issue of Sojourners