“And Mary said, ‘My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.’” (Luke 1:46-55)
I lit the Advent candle yesterday with my two young sons, and together we remembered that this candle signified peace. I wonder, though, what is peace in our world today: a world of war, disease, climate disaster, and perilous pregnancies?
I light the Advent candle this year for peace, and I think of my loved one, who is pregnant with her second child in Texas. We watch and wait with joy and hope, and also some trepidation, as increasingly restrictive abortion laws leave pregnant women at the mercy of capricious lawyers and politicians hungry for power.
I have been pregnant three times, and I have two living sons. I know what it is to carry life inside of me, and I wonder why the anti-abortion movement, which claims to champion life, has been so hesitant to tell stories of real pregnancies: to listen to women who are carrying danger, hope, and life within us. Who is pro-our lives?
I take courage, and maybe even peace, though, from Mary. Famously unmarried, yet powerfully voiced, when Mary hears the words of the angel Gabriel that she is carrying a son, she — like many of us — calls her female family member to share in the news together. They offer the support that can be shared often only by those who know the fraught nature of these early days of pregnancy: the immediate shift that comes when your body is no longer yours alone, and yet you have so little control over the wellbeing of the life inside of you, as well as your own life.
Pregnancy is both incredibly vulnerable and incredibly powerful. You are sick and weak but strong and courageous. Mary reminds us of this as she sings these words in the Magnificat. She knows the child being born within her will challenge a world that has too often told itself that we know better than God who God is and what God has planned for us. Instead this child will uproot and change and threaten those who are powerful.
A tiny baby changes everything, indeed. And his mother’s words show us the way. May we guard these words, and those who are pregnant among us this year, with our steadfast support and ongoing care and attention.
Angela Denker is a Lutheran pastor and columnist at the Minnesota Star Tribune. She is the author of Red State Christians: A Journey into White Christian Nationalism and the Wreckage It Leaves Behind and also writes at her Substack newsletter I’m Listening.