39 In those days Mary arose and went with haste into the hill country, to a town in Judah, 40 and she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. 41 And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the baby leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit, 42 and she exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! 43 And why is this granted to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me? 44 For behold, when the sound of your greeting came to my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. 45 And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.”
46 And Mary said,
“My soul magnifies the Lord,
47 and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
48 for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant.
For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
49 for he who is mighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
50 And his mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
51 He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts;
52 he has brought down the mighty from their thrones
and exalted those of humble estate;
53 he has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent away empty.
54 He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
55 as he spoke to our fathers,
to Abraham and to his offspring forever.”
56 And Mary remained with her about three months and returned to her home. [1]
Merry Christmas, Sojourners!
As we move deeper into this Advent/Christmas season, I keep coming back to the way the Lord trains our hearts through the gifts He gives. He doesn’t just announce that His Son has come – He teaches us to receive Him.
In our first study in this series, we focused on hope – the kind of hope that doesn’t rest on circumstances but on the faithful God who keeps His promises, even through brokenness and waiting. In the second study, we turned to peace – not a thin calm or temporary quiet, but the steady peace Jesus secured by entering our darkness, reconciling us to God, and holding us fast through every season.
Now, we come to joy – and we pause. We need to know what it is – and what it isn’t.
Biblical joy is deeper than a mood or feeling. It’s not the fleeting and ever-changing “happiness” our world tries to chase and manufacture. In Scripture, joy is gladness rooted in God – gladness that can exist even when life is still hard, even when answers are still unfolding. The New Testament word often translated “joy” can describe the rejoicing God inspires, and it can even describe the occasion or grounds for joy – what joy is built on and rises out of (Luke 2:10, Romans 14:17).[2] That’s why biblical joy isn’t fragile. It isn’t dependent on a perfect day or easy circumstances. It grows where mercy takes root, where pride is lowered, where need is admitted, and where God is trusted.
We can miss it if we move too quickly through the Christmas story. In Luke’s Christmas narrative, joy arrives before the word shows up when the shepherds hear “good news of great joy” (Luke 2:10). Months before Bethlehem, joy is already stirring in the hill country of Judea. A baby, filled with the Holy Spirit, leaps for joy in the womb (Luke 1:44). A woman, filled with the Holy Spirit, blesses the mother of her Lord (Luke 1:41-43). And that young mother, Mary – lowly, standing at the beginning of a road she doesn’t yet understand – rejoices in God her Savior (Luke 1:46-47). Joy was already breaking through the darkness, because Jesus was already there!
Luke 1:39-56, our passage for today, shows us that the joy of Christ is grounded in God’s unfolding mercy – mercy that humbles the proud, lifts the lowly, feeds the hungry, and keeps covenant promises stretching all the way back to Abraham (Luke 1:50-55; Genesis 12:1-3, 17:7; Micah 7:18-20). We see this joy in the song Mary sings. The song is deeply personal but not small. It echoes the hope of Hannah long before her (1 Samuel 2:1-10), and it reaches forward to the Kingdom her baby will grow and usher in – a Kingdom where God’s grace reverses what sin has marred, and where the Savior lifts those who put their faith in Him (Luke 4:18-19, 6:20-23; Isaiah 61:1-3).
In Luke 1:39-56, we’ll see that joy is not something Mary manufactures or inspires in others – it’s something God gives as His mercy begins to unfold. We’ll begin by looking at the original context and setting of Mary’s visit to her relative Elizabeth, where joy first breaks through the silence in unexpected ways. Then we’ll listen carefully to Mary’s song – known as the Magnificat, where joy rises from a heart overwhelmed not with herself, but with her God and His mercy. From there, we’ll see how this song points beyond Mary to Jesus Himself – the coming King who fulfills God’s promises and brings lasting joy. And finally, we’ll consider what this passage teaches us about the gift of joy God gives to the lowly and the lifted, to those who know their need of Him and trust His Word.
Original Context & Setting: Joy Breaks the Silence (vv. 39-45)
Luke tells us that “in those days” Mary rose and went “with haste” into the hill country of Judea to visit her relative Elizabeth (Luke 1:39). This small phrase links what follows directly to the angel’s announcement (Luke 1:26-38). Mary doesn’t linger in Nazareth to sort out the social consequences of her pregnancy or demand clarity about her and the baby’s future. Instead, she moves forward in faith (v. 38). She goes to see the sign God Himself had given her: her much older relative Elizabeth, once barren, is now six months pregnant by God’s grace and power (Luke 1:36-37).
Their meeting is inconsequential by worldly standards. No crowds gather. No rulers take notice. Yet this is one of the most theologically rich encounters in all of Scripture. Two miraculous pregnancies meet. Two stories of God’s mercy intersect. And joy erupts before a single word is spoken.
When Mary greets Elizabeth, John the Baptist leaps in his mother’s womb (v. 41). Luke – the physician – is careful to explain that this is no ordinary movement, and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, interprets it for us: “the baby in my womb leaped for joy” (v. 44). Even before his birth, John fulfills his calling to prepare the way of the Lord as he recognizes and announces the presence of the Messiah in utero (Luke 1:17, 76; Malachi 3:1; Isaiah 40:3). Joy breaks out not because circumstances are easy, but because Jesus is near.
Elizabeth is then filled with the Spirit herself and cries out in a loud voice, pronouncing Mary “blessed among women”, not for who she is but because of the Child she carries – “blessed is the fruit of your womb” (v. 42). Then, Elizabeth goes further calling Mary “the mother of my Lord” (v. 43). This is a staggering confession. Months before Bethlehem, months before angels sing to shepherd, Jesus is confessed as Lord by a Holy Spirit-filled woman and acknowledged by a Spirit-filled unborn child. The joy here is deeply Christ-centered, not found in Mary but magnifying the Son.
Finally, Elizabeth speaks a blessing that turns our attention to Mary’s response to God’s Word: “Blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord” (v. 45). That emphasis on faith matters, especially when we remember that this moment follows a season of silence brought on by unbelief. The Spirit-inspired words spoken through Elizabeth stand in quiet contrast to her husband Zechariah’s earlier doubts, which left him unable to speak until God’s promise began to unfold just as He had said (Luke 1:18–20, 64).[3]
At this point in the Christmas narrative, Mary doesn’t yet see the full shape of God’s plan, but she trusts the God who spoke. And in a time when God had been silent for centuries, His Word breaking forth again was no small thing (Amos 8:11-12). Even though Mary didn’t know how all of this would work out, God was already showing her that He was with her on the journey (Matthew 1:23). We begin to see here that joy doesn’t wait for completion or a finish line. It doesn’t require resolution. It doesn’t depend on our full comprehension of what’s going on or how things will turn out. Joy springs up where God’s Word is believed (Psalm 119:111, Jeremiah 15:16).
Now, the word “joy” doesn’t appear here, but it is already present – present in the leaping child, the Spirit-filled confession of Jesus as Lord, and in Mary’s quiet faith in God’s promise. And it is out of this joy that Mary’s song will rise – not as a sudden emotional outburst, but as a thoughtful, Scripture-shaped response to the mercy of God at work in her life.
The Joy of God’s Mercy in the Magnificat (vv. 46-55)
When Mary finally speaks, she doesn’t begin with explanations, questions, or fear. She begins with worship. Luke tells us, “And Mary said…” (v. 46), and what follows is not a spontaneous emotional overflow but a carefully shaped song, steeped in Scripture and centered on God. This song, as I have mentioned, is known as the Magnificat, named after its opening word in Latin, drawn from Mary’s opening declaration: “My soul magnifies the Lord.” And that opening line sets the tone for everything that follows.
Mary’s joy in this song is not focused on herself. She’s not magnifying her experience, her obedience, or her unique role in human and redemptive history. She magnifies the Lord. Her joy is vertical before it’s personal. She magnifies her Lord and her “spirit rejoices in God [her] Savior” (vv. 46-47). In humility, she calls God her Savior, acknowledging her sin and need for God’s mercy. Joy grows where pride is lessened and God’s grace is welcomed.
She goes on to explain why her soul rejoices: God has looked upon her “humble estate” (v. 48). Mary wasn’t wealthy, powerful, or impressive by any worldly standards. She was young, obscure, and vulnerable. Yet God has seen her. The joy she experiences isn’t rooted in her being chosen because she was worthy, but in being shown mercy despite her lowliness.
From there, Mary’s song widens. What God has done for her personally reveals something true about His character universally. “Holy is His name,” she declares, and “His mercy is for those who fear Him from generation to generation” (vv. 49-50, Exodus 34:6-7, Psalm 103:17). Joy, in Mary’s song, is never detached from who God is. It flows from His holiness, His power, and especially His mercy. This isn’t a one-time act of kindness but a continuation of what God has been unfolding throughout history and continues to unfold today.
As the song continues, Mary celebrates the great reversal God brings—scattering the proud, bringing down the mighty, exalting the humble, filling the hungry, and sending the rich away empty (vv. 51–53, 1 Samuel 2:6-8). These words are not political slogans or rhetoric but theological declarations. Mary rejoices in the way God’s mercy turns worldly values upside down (1 Corinthians 1:27-28). Joy comes not to those who trust in their own strength—because human strength fails and fades—but to those who know their need and look to God to strengthen and save.
Finally, Mary anchors her joy in God’s faithfulness to His promises. He has helped His servant Israel, remembering His mercy “as He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his offspring forever” (vv. 54-55; Genesis 12:1-3, 22:17-18). Her joy rests in God’s covenant faithfulness to His people (Deuteronomy 7:9). God was doing in Mary what He had promised long ago. The mercy unfolding in her womb is connected to promises stretching back generations, all the way to Genesis and Abraham. And she rejoices in the assurance that the God who spoke to her keeps His Word.
This is what makes the Magnificat so magnificent. Mary’s joy is deeply personal but not private. It’s shaped by Scripture, grounded in God’s mercy, and oriented toward His purposes and plan rather than her own. She doesn’t rejoice because she experienced an influx of health, wealth, and prosperity as some falsely promise; she rejoices because God is doing exactly what He said He’d do. And this kind of joy – joy rooted in mercy and tempered in humility and faith – prepares us to see the true significance of the Child she carries. Because Mary’s song does not end with her; it presses us forward to the work this Child has come to accomplish.
Fulfillment in Jesus, the Coming King
In the last two weeks, we’ve looked a lot at Old Testament references in Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus and in the prophecy from Isaiah. It took some work to flesh out the promises of God and show their fulfillment in Jesus. Luke 1:39-56 is much easier because Jesus is already there in Mary’s womb (Luke 1:31-33, Galatians 4:4).
The promises Mary celebrates are no longer distant or abstract. They aren’t waiting centuries to be fulfilled. They are present, personal, and alive in the Child she carries. The mercy she sings about has taken on flesh (John 1:14). The King she rejoices in is not merely promised – He is already at work, even before He is born (Luke 1:35, Matthew 1:21).
This is what makes Mary’s joy so striking. She’s not rejoicing in who Jesus will one day become, but in who He already is. The reversals she proclaims – the proud scattered, the lowly lifted, the hungry filled – are not wishful thinking or poetic exaggeration but the certain outworking of God’s mercy now embodied in her Child. Luke has already told us who this Child is. The angel Gabriel announced that He would be given “the throne of His father David”, that He would reign forever, and that “of His Kingdom there will be no end” (Luke 1:32-33, 2 Samuel 7:12-13, Isaiah 9:6-7). Those promises stand quietly behind every line of the Magnificat. When Mary sings of God helping His servant Israel and remembering His mercy (v. 54), she is rejoicing in the arrival of the long-awaited King who would finally do what no earthly ruler – even her ancestor King David – could: bring salvation, righteousness, and lasting joy (Jeremiah 23:5-6, Zechariah 9:9).
Jesus fulfills everything expressed in Mary’s song. The proud are scattered as human self-sufficiency is exposed by grace (Luke 18:9-14). The mighty are brought low as the true King enters the world unnoticed and lives a life culminating in the cross (Luke 19:38, 23:33; Philippians 2:6-8). The hungry are filled as Jesus offers Himself as the Bread of Life to those who know their need (Luke 6:20-21, John 6:35). And those who cling to wealth, status, and self-righteousness are sent away empty because they refuse to partake of the mercy He so freely gives (Luke 12:15, 18:24-25).
The mercy Mary rejoices in here reaches its fullest expression at the cross, a reality that would one day pierce her own heart (Luke 2:34-35). There, the lowly are lifted, sinners are forgiven, and the proud illusion of being able to earn righteousness collapses. Jesus is not a mere announcement of God’s mercy – He becomes its means, bearing sin and the wrath of God due for it, and reconciling sinners to God (Luke 22:19–20, Romans 5:8–11, Isaiah 53:4-6, 2 Corinthians 5:21). Mary’s joy isn’t sentimental; it’s anchored in the coming sacrifice of her Son.
Thankfully, the sacrifice she would later witness was not the end. The resurrection she would also witness confirms that her joy was well-founded (Luke 24:1-8, Acts 1:14). God keeps His promises (Hebrews 10:23). The King lives. Jesus rises, reigns, and continues to extend the mercy she sang about – gathering the lowly, forgiving the guilty, and bringing true joy to all who trust in Him. This means Mary’s song was not simply a celebration for what God had done for her, but a declaration of what God had begun to do for the world. The Child in her womb is the King who fulfills every promise, secures lasting joy, and proves once and for all that God’s mercy never fails.
Wrapping Up
We’ve talked a lot about joy today, and, if I’m honest, I find myself longing to feel more of that joy myself. Thankfully, biblical joy is more than a feeling. Feelings ebb and flow, changing with circumstances and surroundings. But joy, biblical joy, is found – just as it was with Elizabeth, John the Baptist, and Mary in Luke 1:39-56 – in the presence of Jesus. It is found fixing our eyes on Him and lifting our entire worldview toward Him, seeking what is above rather than being hijacked by all of the bad this fallen world has to offer (Colossians 3:1-4, Hebrews 12:2).
The joy found in Jesus is available today. He brings joy for the lowly and the lifted.
The lowly are those who know their need – who don’t pretend to have it all together, who feel the weight of weakness, guilt, grief, and sin. Like Mary, they may feel insignificant, overlooked, or uncertain about the road ahead. But as Mary taught us, God looks upon our humble estates. He fills the hungry. He draws near to those who fear Him and trust His Word. For the lowly, the joy of Christ isn’t ignoring or denying hardship or difficulty – it’s the assurance that God sees, God keeps His promises, and God is at work even when we can’t see the outcome.
If that’s you today – if you feel lowly, burdened, or aware of your need – Scripture holds out a clear and gracious invitation. The same Jesus who brought joy to Elizabeth and Mary calls you to confess him as Lord and believe that He is who God says He is in His Word. Romans 10:9 makes this clear: “if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.” It’s not complicated. It’s not earned. It’s trusting Him. It’s faith (Ephesians 2:8-9). And just as it was for them, Jesus is enough.
The lifted are those God raises up by grace. To be lifted by God is not the same thing as being elevated by the world. The lifted are not those who boast in strength, status, or success but those who have been brought low enough to receive mercy. They are forgiven, reconciled, redeemed – and they know that this status is a gift from God by grace through faith in Jesus (Titus 3:4-7, Colossians 1:13-14).
If you find yourself here today – resting in Christ, walking in forgiveness, knowing the mercy He has shown you – this passage invites you not to move on from joy but to return to it again and again – to ask the Lord to remind you of what He has done, to renew your wonder in worshiping Him, and to meet you each day with new mercies (Lamentations 3:23, Hebrews 4:16). Joy deepens as we remember what Jesus has done and entrust ourselves to Him daily.
Joy is not something we can manufacture. It’s something we receive. And it grows wherever Jesus is trusted. May the joy of God’s mercy – secured by Christ our King – take root in your heart and rise in praise, just as it did in Mary’s song.
[1] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Lk 1:39–56.
[2] Chará (χαρά) is commonly used for “joy/rejoicing,” and can also mean the cause/occasion/ground of joy (e.g., Luke 2:10; Rom. 14:17). | Spiros Zodhiates, The Complete Word Study Dictionary: New Testament (Chattanooga, TN: AMG Publishers, 2000).
[3] Zechariah questioned how he could be sure God would give him a son citing that he was “an old man” and Elizabeth was “advanced in years” (Luke 1:18). Because he didn’t believe the angel’s word, he was made mute until “the day that these things take place” (Luke 1:20), and his speech returned when John was named, just as God had promised (Luke 1:57-64). Although the text makes no reference to it, Zechariah would have been mute during the entirety of Mary’s visit to their home.
Just Keith Harris 