A Christmas Eve Reflection

When Mary digests the angel’s words—that she will bear God’s Son, a message perhaps affirmed by her encounter with her cousin Elizabeth —Mary’s instinct is not fear, but praise. 

Amid uncertainty about how this news will be received by her fiancé and her family, in the shadow of a foreign occupation, with her own physical life turned upside down by pregnancy, Mary does not lament. She does not fixate on her circumstances. 

Instead, she reaches deep into her people’s story and remembers: 

God has lifted up the lowly. 

God has scattered the proud. 

God has been faithful again and again.

Mary’s song is not naïve optimism. It is rooted in history and hope. She looks back at what God has done and dares to imagine what God will do.

That is the essence of faith—remembering and anticipating, and not just anticipating but expecting with hope, even when the world feels hard.

And friends, for many the world does feel hard right now. Violence is normalized. Nations rage. People feel unsafe and unwelcome. 

Even in our own lives, joy and sorrow mingle together—births and funerals, blessings and bills. This year, I gained a grandson and lost my mom. Our church has celebrated baptisms and grieved losses. We’ve welcomed newcomers, paid the unexpected expense to fix the elevator, and had our pride flag stolen. 

It’s been another year of both beauty and brokenness.

Yet in the midst of it all, God is beside us—calling us forward toward justice, mercy, and compassion. God is still turning the world around. That is the history we know and the promise that holds us fast.

So here’s the question: Where can we find praise for God in this moment? What can we proclaim about what God has done—and what God will do—even when the world is hard? 

Can our hearts sing of the day God brings?

Might we sing our own song:

This saving word that our forebears heard 

Is the promise which holds us bound,

Til the spear and rod can be crushed by God,

Who is turning the world around.

My heart shall sing of the day you bring.

Let the fires of your justice burn.

Wipe away all tears, for the dawn draws near,

And the world is about to turn.

As Christ enters the world anew this season, let it not be marked so much by the glare and glitter of the world, but by the gentle hand of God reaching out once again with love. And when that hand reaches toward us, may we respond like Mary—with full-throated praise and bold proclamation. 

Let us declare to the world: LOOK WHAT GOD WILL DO! 

Amen.