Photo Credit: Ryan Klinck

By Andrea Lingle

And Mary said,
"My soul magnifies the Lord,
   and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour,
for he has looked with favour 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 for ever."

Luke 1:46-55
 

Do you know what puzzled me this week? Scrooge isn't very Scrooge-y in the second stave. After shocking us all with his rejection of the impoverished and his Pharaoh-level hard heart in Stave 1, his heart seems more tallow than stone in the second. It is almost as if Scrooge and Dickens have never grabbed a chunky mug, thick blanket, and watched a Christmas movie. Clearly Scrooge is supposed to be grumpy until at least half-way through the third spirit, but from the very first scene of Stave 2, we see that Scrooge is unworthy of his reputation:

"Good Heavens!" Scrooge cried. This is where I was born! I was a boy here!" And he remembered all his old feelings about the place.
"Your lip is trembling," said the Ghost. "Are you crying?"
''No. no..." answered Scrooge. But a tear fell from his eye.

It is like, for all of his gross cynicism, when he melted through the walls of his home, something of the crusty man was stripped away. Perhaps the hardness of avarice and the grit of greed cannot be tugged through the filter of brown-stone, window-pane, and ghostly vision. As Scrooge was drawn from his habitual walls, his heart was exposed to the elements of his past: his childhood, his joyful apprenticeship, and the first signs of who he would become. And it seems that his saltiness is dissolved in tears in the first hour. Scrooge, apparently, is no Grinch. Clearly, Dickens's plot does not hinge on Scrooge changing his heart. It seems hearts are easy to melt.

The Spirits must have been after something else. 

It is one thing to weep over the faded memories of childhood—to sing a song of praise—and another thing entirely to have one's heart warmed unto action. Mary's Magnificat was an anthem of obedience. She had committed her life to, literally, bearing the Christ into the world. Her great song did not come at the feet of the angel in a moment of emotion, it came at the feet of her cousin, Elizabeth three months into a pregnancy that no one would have been celebrating. In the verses preceding the Magnificat, just after she accepted the words of the angel, "Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country." (Luke 1:39) She fled her home. Mary's song comes as a refugee from those who would have killed her for her choice to bear the Christ. 

Dickens's Spirits must be after something like this.

The Spirit of Advent is asking, not for you to soften your heart, but to sing as a refugee. If, in bearing Christ to the world, the abundant life that you find is one of sorrow, sing. If, in bearing Christ to the world, you and your companions walk with a limp, sing. If, my dear ones, in bearing Christ to the world, you find yourself empty, sing.
 

Throughout Advent, you will find resources here for engaging with A Christmas Carol and Mary's Magnificat. Each week in the Wisdom for the Way, you will find a brief reflection, a link to online study resources, and a small group liturgy. Please use them for your Advent Journey.