And blessed [is] she that has believed, for there shall be a fulfilment of the things spoken to her from [the] Lord.
Elizabeth ends her greeting with a word about Mary's faith, not about her honour. Mary is blessed because she believed God would do what He said. So what makes believing God's word a blessing? And how does it differ from the unbelief seen a few verses earlier, in this same house?
Elizabeth is not paying Mary the warm compliment of an older relative. Something else is at work in her words.
Notice at once that Elizabeth, "filled with the Holy Spirit," shares God's own mind about Mary. Gabriel had said to her, "Blessed are you among women." Elizabeth now says the same, and adds, "and blessed is the fruit of your womb." God had opened her eyes. She saw as God saw, and she spoke His own verdict on the woman He had chosen for this rare honour.
The greeting names more than one blessing, and this verse supplies the last of them. It rests on something Mary did — she took God at His word.
Mary was blessed as the object of God's sovereign favour. She was blessed as the one through whom our Lord came into the world as a man. And she was blessed because of her faith — a faith that rose above every obstacle and rested on the almighty power of God. Like Abraham, she did not waver at the promise of God through unbelief, but "found strength in faith," giving glory to God. She had taken a firm hold of God's word. She had no doubt that He would do what He had promised. She honoured God in this way, and now God gave her, through Elizabeth's lips, the assurance that the Lord's word to her would come true.
Mary had asked the angel how such a birth could happen. Commentators are careful to distinguish that question from unbelief.
God had shown Mary such favour that she asks with holy confidence how this would happen, since it lay outside the natural order. She has no doubt that it would happen — Elizabeth calls her the one who believed.
Elizabeth had watched her own husband, Zacharias, lose his speech because he did not believe. That memory gives her words their edge.
At the same time she acknowledges that God has shown special favour to Mary's soul. "Blessed is she who believed, for there will be a fulfilment of what was spoken to her from the Lord." Elizabeth knew that unbelief was what had struck her husband. She sets his failure against Mary's humble, believing heart.
The certainty is not in the strength of Mary's believing but in the source of the message. It came from the Lord Himself.
She calls Mary the mother of her Lord — the One at whose voice her own baby had leaped for joy. She declares her blessed as well for the faith that received God's message. And what the Lord had spoken to her would surely happen.
The blessing pronounced here honours Mary's faith. It does not lift her out of the ranks of those who need saving — her own song, moments later, says otherwise.
Mary was the mother of our Lord as a man. She was "blessed among women," chosen for the highest honour a woman could have. Yet in her song of praise she says, "my spirit rejoices in God my Savior" (Luke 1:47). If Mary had been sinless, she would have had no need of a Savior. But she did need one, just like the rest of us.
What Elizabeth commends is not unique to Mary. Anyone who rests on what God has said stands on the same ground.
Gabriel brought Mary a message from heaven, and she answered, "let it be to me according to Your word" (Luke 1:38). That answer is the language of everyone who rests on what God has said. How simple! How beautiful! Faith never makes itself an object. It looks up to the Lord and says, "I want no better guarantee of certain blessing than the one 'Your word' gives me."
- Word spoken. The certainty rests on the source. The Lord Himself spoke to Mary, so His word would stand.
- Word believed. Mary's question was about how, never about whether — asking God for understanding is not the same as doubting Him.
- Word doubted. God left Zacharias unable to speak because of his unbelief, in the very house Mary entered. Elizabeth sets his failure beside Mary's believing heart.
- Word confirmed. Elizabeth, filled with the Spirit, saw as God saw. Through her, God assured Mary that He would keep His promise.
- Word for us. Faith never makes itself the object. It asks no better guarantee than God's own word. That ground is open to anyone — even to Mary, who called God her Savior.
And Mary said, My soul magnifies the Lord,
Mary has been visiting Elizabeth, and their meeting ends in a song about God, not about herself. Her opening words make God great. The rest of the song shows what that costs the one who says it.
The song does not appear out of nowhere. It closes a visit where two believers talked together about what God was doing. One writer shows where such talk leads:
What freshness and joy the person of Christ brings into the fellowship of these saints! Souls overflow. Conversation turns into adoration. Those who talk with one another are bound to learn what worship is.
Mary speaks of her soul here, and of her spirit in the next line. One writer separates the two, and explains why she uses the title Lord:
Her soul (the center of her emotions and affections) magnified the Lord, Jehovah. Her spirit (the center of her understanding and intelligence) rejoiced in God her Savior. In verse 46 the title Lord shows her submission to His authority. In verse 47 she worships the supreme God who in grace became her Savior. She knew she was a sinner who needed His salvation, just as we all do.
Mary makes God large by keeping herself small. That is the hinge of the whole song:
She acknowledges God as her Saviour in the grace that has filled her with joy. She also owns her own low place — a picture of the condition of the remnant of Israel. That low place gave God's greatness its opening to act, with full testimony that everything came from Him. Whatever godliness suited the instrument He used — and Mary did have it — she was great only so far as she hid herself. For then God was everything... She would have lost her place by making something of herself, but she did not.
Another writer turns this into a lesson for every reader:
May we all take this blessed lesson to heart. Grace cannot have its full sway in our souls unless we take our true place of nothingness before God.
Many lift Mary far above the place she claims for herself. One writer weighs her own words about being called blessed:
It is remarkable how simply Scripture answered in advance the monstrous unbelief that lowers God as much as it lifts up a human being. Mary had no thought of exaltation. She says, "All generations shall call me blessed," but not a blesser. She was the object of blessing, not the giver or mediator of it. "For the Mighty One has done to me great things; and holy is His name" — not a word of her own. "And His mercy is to generations and generations to them that fear Him" — not to those who pray to or worship me.
Mary did not invent these phrases. One writer names where they came from:
The wonderful burst of praise from Mary's lips beautifully echoes the Old Testament Scriptures. This devout woman knew the Word of God. It filled her heart, and the Holy Spirit used that Word to shape her praise. Her song touches many Psalms, but it reminds us above all of Hannah's inspired song (1 Samuel 2). Notice also Mary's deep humility and her acknowledgment of the need of a Saviour.
What begins with "my soul" does not stay personal. One writer shows how her own mercy opens out into the mercy promised to a nation:
Where the Spirit of God does a real work in the souls of His people, their hearts rise to the source their blessing came from. So with Mary. Her first thought is the Lord who had visited her with such indescribable grace... The mighty action of the Holy Spirit merged her individuality into Israel for the moment, so she rejoices in Israel's God and Saviour. She does speak of herself in the next verse, but even then only as the chosen instrument of the blessing that was coming on Israel.
Writers often compare this song with Hannah's. One marks a difference in timing:
Mary, on the other hand, sees the deliverance as already accomplished — accomplished in the One who was about to be born.
- Small. Mary is great only while she hides herself. Then God is everything. Make something of yourself and you lose your place.
- Saved. She calls God her Saviour, owning herself a sinner who needed His salvation, as we all do.
- Submitted. Calling Him Lord is her surrender to His authority. Her soul's affections and her spirit's understanding move toward Him together.
- Scriptural. Her praise is an echo of the Old Testament she knew by heart — many Psalms, and above all Hannah's song.
- Shared. Generations call her blessed, but never a blesser. She receives the blessing; she does not give it. Her joy widens into Israel's promised mercy.
and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Saviour.
Mary's song rises in two lines, and the second adds a word the first does not have — "my Saviour." That one word shows where her joy came from, and it raises the question of what she knew about herself.
Verses 46 and 47 use two different words for Mary's inner life. One writer gives each word its own meaning.
Her soul (the center of her emotions and affections) magnified the Lord, Jehovah. Her spirit (the center of her understanding and intelligence) rejoiced in God her Saviour. In verse 46 she uses the title Lord, which shows her submission to His authority. In verse 47 she worships the supreme God, who in grace became her Saviour. She knew herself to be a sinner who needed His salvation, just as we all do.
Her whole inner being moves in one direction at once, which is what marks out a heart truly turned toward God.
Do we not see how soul and spirit act in unison in connection with a saint of God, and the aspirations and emotions Godward, lofty and pure?
The word "my" carries the verse. She does not sing of a Saviour for others. She claims One for herself.
We must not omit to notice that Mary spoke of "God my Saviour." Though the mother of our Saviour, she herself found her Saviour in God.
One writer presses this against the claim that Mary was born without sin.
Like all who are taught of God, she recognised her sinful state. She needed a Saviour, and she had found One in God Himself. The immaculate conception is the teaching that the Virgin Mary was born sinless. How can anyone hold it when she herself confessed she was a sinner in finding God as Saviour?
Her joy is not in what she is, but in what God is toward her.
She acknowledges God her Saviour in the grace that has filled her with such joy. At the same time she owns her utter littleness. The instrument God uses may be holy, and Mary was. Even so, she was great only as long as she hid herself, for then God was everything. If she had made something of herself, she would have lost her place. But she did not. God kept her there so that His grace would be fully shown.
The rest of the song keeps her in that place. Her own words rule out any move to make her a giver of blessing.
Mary had no thought of exaltation. She says, "All generations shall call me blessed," but not a blesser. She was the object of blessing, not the giver of it… "And His mercy is to generations and generations to those who fear Him" — not to those who pray to or worship me.
The words are personal, but they are not her own invention. She had filled her mind with Scripture.
The wonderful outburst of praise from Mary's lips is a beautiful echo of the Old Testament Scriptures. The devout Virgin knew the Word of God. Her heart was full of it, and the Holy Spirit used the Word to express her praise. Her song touches many Psalms, and above all it reminds us of Hannah's inspired song (1 Samuel 2).
One writer compares the two songs. Mary's reaches higher, and Hannah's loses nothing.
Hannah begins: "My heart rejoices in the Lord." Mary says: "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior." The heart is tied more to earth and the body. The soul and spirit have closer links with heaven and eternity. But this makes the song of Hannah none the less perfect or profitable to us.
One writer reads Mary as speaking for more than herself. Her low estate pictures the condition of a whole people.
She owns her own low estate — a figure of the condition of the remnant of Israel. That low estate gave occasion for God's greatness to step in, with a full testimony that everything came from Himself.
She read her own case as a pattern of how God works.
In the mercy shown to her she saw a pledge. God will finally lift up those who fear Him and scatter the proud and mighty of this world… She had no thought of Israel deserving anything under the covenant of law. Everything depended on the covenant of promise. God was filling the hungry and sending the rich away empty. This is always God's way.
- Lowness — Mary's joy starts where she starts: at her own littleness. She was great only as long as she hid herself and let God be everything.
- Saviour — From that low place she claims God as my Saviour. That is the confession of someone who knows she is a sinner. It is why one writer says this verse disproves the teaching that she was born sinless.
- Whole — Soul and spirit move together toward God. One line submits to His authority. The next worships Him as Saviour.
- Scripture — She voices her joy in borrowed words. Her heart was full of the Psalms and of Hannah's song, and the Spirit used what she already knew.
- Wider — Her case shows God's way: the hungry filled, the rich sent away empty, the lowly lifted. Mercy rests on promise, never on deserving.
For he has looked upon the low estate of his bondmaid; for behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.
God has looked on a lowly woman, and her answer is not to claim greatness but to name her smallness. In the same breath she says that every generation to come will call her blessed. The verse holds two things together: how small she was, and how lasting her honour would be.
One writer defended the translation "low estate" against a reviewer who wanted "humiliation":
According to the reviewer, the Greek word tapeinosis must be translated in Luke 1:48 as "humiliation." But those who may be supposed to know the language translate it "low estate," as the reader may see in the Revised Version and in the translations of Alford, Wordsworth, Darby, and others. It is plain, too, that Mary was speaking of her outward condition, not of the state of her soul, when she poured out her heart to God.
The second term she chooses for herself — "servant," older versions "handmaiden" — carries the same weight:
These words often refer in scripture to a female slave, as applied to Hagar the Egyptian, Gen. 25:12; but were also used by women themselves as a term of humility, as when Hannah spoke to Jehovah and to Eli, 1 Sam. 1:11, 16, 18; as Abigail to David, 1 Sam. 25:24-41; and by Mary and Elizabeth as handmaids of the Lord. Luke 1:38, 48.
Mary gives no reason why God chose her. She only says that He looked:
Her song is thankfulness for the grace and favour given to her, the lowly one, and it is tied to the hopes and blessing of Israel. I repeat it: Mary is great because she is nothing. Yet God has favoured her in a way that has no parallel, and all generations will call her blessed.
Her contentment with the low place has a reason:
She herself is content to take the "low estate" of a "handmaiden." God's mighty thoughts were not going to be fulfilled in Mary. "Jehovah's Christ" was in view, and in Him alone would God's eternal purpose and the establishing of universal blessing and glory be fulfilled. It has been well said of Mary by another — "she lost her place if she made anything of herself, but in truth she did not," a helpful word in the present day!
Mary receives blessing here. She does not hand it out. One writer notes how the wording guards in advance against a later error:
It is remarkable how simply Scripture has answered in advance the monstrous unbelief of man, which lowers God as much as it exalts a human being. Mary had no thought of exaltation. She says, "All generations will call me blessed," but not a blesser. She was the object of blessing, not the giver or mediator of it. "He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name" [not a word of her own]. "And His mercy is for those who fear Him from generation to generation" [not that pray to or worship me].
Mary's song does not stop with her. Her own low place stands for Israel's:
It is true that she speaks of herself here. She says that God has regarded the low estate of His handmaiden (bondsmaid), and that from now on all generations will call her blessed. But even so, this is only as the chosen instrument of the blessing that was coming upon Israel. It was the thought of Israel's salvation out of their low estate that filled her soul.
One writer sets her honour beside the reputations of the world's powerful:
In verse 48 she recognizes His tender mercy and care for her in her low estate. Hers was an honour that would never fail to draw the respect of all generations. While the great and mighty of this world are forgotten, this lowly, humble woman has an honour that will never be forgotten.
Some people make far too much of that honour. Others ignore it. One writer answers both:
Christ once corrected a woman who called His mother blessed. At first sight His words might seem to clash with Mary's own inspired song. Did she not say that from now on all generations would call her blessed? … Mary was most highly favoured in the flesh, singled out by a supreme distinction. It is even possible that, in a proper desire to steer clear of Roman error, Protestants may have overlooked the remarkable honour given to the Virgin.
- Low — "Low estate" describes Mary's outward circumstances. "Servant" is the word used of a female slave. She names her smallness, not her merit.
- Looked — Everything starts with God looking at her. She was great, as one writer puts it, in being nothing.
- Blessed — She is the object of blessing, never the giver. She said generations would call her blessed, not pray to her.
- Beyond — God lifted her up as the chosen instrument of blessing for Israel, not as a private favour.
- Lasting — The world forgets its powerful, but it remembers this lowly woman. Her honour is real: do not inflate it, and do not ignore it.
For the Mighty One has done to me great things, and holy [is] his name;
These words come from Mary's song of praise. She does not turn the moment toward herself. She turns it toward God. Her words name two things about Him at once: the power that acted, and the holiness of the One who acted.
Mary names the power that acted. She never explains how it acted.
The way the overshadowing power of the Highest worked upon Mary is not described. She herself declared, "He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name" (Luke 1:49). The Holy Spirit's work here is secret and beyond our searching. Even so, divine power made certain that the child born of Mary was called the Son of God.
The second half of the verse is not a new subject. It guards the first half, because power in the world is not a safe thing.
To God she also ascribes infinite power, the mighty One who dealt with her in such power as with no other. But she hurries to add, "and holy is His name." In the world, power knows nothing of holiness. God's power is different: it is sanctified — set apart — from every corrupting element. There too is the gentle, tender side of His character, showing mercy without ceasing to those who fear Him.
Mary puts herself on the receiving side. Her words leave her no room to pass blessing on to others.
It is remarkable how simply Scripture met man's monstrous unbelief in advance. That unbelief lowers God as much as it exalts a human being. Mary had no thought of exaltation. She says, "All generations shall call me blessed," but not a blesser. She was the object of blessing, not the giver or mediator of it. "For He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name" [not a word of her own]. "And His mercy is for those who fear Him from generation to generation" [not that pray to or worship me].
God singled her out. That could have made her think more of herself. It did the opposite.
The marvellous intervention of God humbled her, instead of lifting her up. She saw God in what had taken place, not herself. The greatness of these marvels brought God so near her that she was hidden from herself. She yields herself to His holy will. But God fills too much of her thinking here to leave any room for self-importance.
The very next line moves from "me" to "those who fear him." What God did for her, she saw as the opening of blessing for her whole people.
The thought of Israel's salvation out of their low condition filled her soul when she said, "He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name." She adds at once, "And His mercy is for those who fear Him from generation to generation." That shows it was God's chosen Israel that filled her mind.
Others hear in her words the joy of people who had waited long for this child:
So when at last the Christ of God became a man, there were those who were in harmony with heaven. They recognised that God had stepped in, and they could rejoice over the birth of the long promised heir. With joy Mary delights to own, "He who is mighty has done great things for me."
Her song is not something she invented on the spot. It echoes words she already knew, including the song of Hannah, a mother who also sang after God gave her a son.
The marvellous outburst of praise which comes from Mary's lips is a beautiful echo of the Old Testament Scriptures. She knew the Word of God; her heart was filled with it, and the Holy Spirit used the Word in the expression of her praise. Her words touch many Psalms, and above all they recall Hannah's inspired song (1 Samuel 2). Notice also Mary's deep humility and her acknowledgment of the need of a Saviour.
- Power. Mary traces the "great things" to "He who is mighty." Divine power made certain that the child born of Mary was called the Son of God, and how it happened is never described.
- Holiness. She adds "holy is His name" at once: unlike power in the world, God's power is set apart from every corrupting element.
- Humility. God's stepping in humbled her instead of lifting her up. He came so near that she lost sight of herself.
- Position. She is the object of blessing, not its giver — "blessed," she says, but never a blesser.
- Reach. What God did "for me" flows outward to "those who fear Him," generation after generation.