Imagine a teenage girl in Nazareth. By all societal standards, she is nobody. She has no wealth, no status, and now, she carries a secret that could ruin her reputation and endanger her life. She has just been told by an angel that she will carry the Son of God. She has no physical proof yet—no baby bump, no crown, no entourage of kings. She only has a promise. And yet, she sings.

Now, rewind history about a thousand years. Imagine a woman named Hannah standing in the dust of Shiloh. She is brokenhearted, her soul bitter from years of infertility and the cruel mocking of a rival wife. She has wept before the tabernacle until she has no tears left. She has prayed for a son. She has no proof that God has heard her—no morning sickness, no cradle, no child. She only has a promise from a priest who barely understood her. And yet, she sings.

These two women, separated by centuries, are united by the same Spirit and the same posture. They stand as pillars of the faith, teaching us one of the most difficult yet powerful lessons of the believer’s walk: how to offer explosive praise before the visible answer arrives.

We often think gratitude is what happens after the check clears, after the healing comes, or after the baby is born. But the biblical pattern, modeled by Hannah and perfected by Mary, is praise before the proof. It is the audacity to magnify the Lord when your sight is still faint, trusting that what He has spoken, He will surely perform.

A Burst of Song in the Hill Country

To understand Mary’s song, known as the Magnificat, we have to look at where she just came from. We looked recently at the Annunciation, where Gabriel dropped the divine interruption into Mary’s life. Immediately following that encounter, the scripture tells us Mary arose and went “with haste” into the hill country to find her cousin Elizabeth.

Mary enters the house, and the moment her greeting hits Elizabeth’s ears, the baby in Elizabeth’s womb—John the Baptist—leaps for joy. Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Ghost and prophesies.

It is a moment of high spiritual drama. And how does Mary respond? She doesn’t launch into a breathless explanation of her fears. She doesn’t ask for advice on how to handle Joseph or the neighbors. Instead, she breaks into a hymn.

“And Mary said, My soul doth magnify the Lord, And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour” (Luke 1:46-47).

It is important to realize that Mary’s song did not emerge from a vacuum. Mary was a young woman steeped in the Word of God. The lyrics that flowed from her heart were not entirely original; they were the New Testament echo of an ancient victory hymn. Mary was standing on the shoulders of Hannah, singing a duet with a woman who had walked the dark path of waiting long before her.

Hannah’s Song: The Old Testament Template

To truly grasp the depth of the Magnificat, we must turn back to 1 Samuel 2:1-10. Hannah’s story is one of the most poignant in the Old Testament. She was a woman “in bitterness of soul” (1 Samuel 1:10), tormented by her barrenness. She poured out her soul before the Lord, making a vow that if God would give her a son, she would give him back to the Lord all the days of his life.

God granted her request, and she birthed Samuel. When she brought him to the temple to dedicate him, she didn’t just leave a child; she left a song.

If you place Hannah’s prayer in 1 Samuel 2 side-by-side with Mary’s prayer in Luke 1, the parallels are undeniable.

• Hannah says: “My heart rejoiceth in the LORD, mine horn is exalted in the LORD” (1 Samuel 2:1).
• Mary says: “My soul doth magnify the Lord” (Luke 1:46).
• Hannah sings of reversal: “The bows of the mighty men are broken, and they that stumbled are girded with strength” (1 Samuel 2:4).
• Mary sings of reversal: “He hath put down the mighty from their seats, and exalted them of low degree” (Luke 1:52).
• Hannah sings of the hungry: “They that were full have hired out themselves for bread; and they that were hungry ceased” (1 Samuel 2:5).
• Mary sings of the hungry: “He hath filled the hungry with good things; and the rich he hath sent empty away” (Luke 1:53).

Hannah’s song ends with a prophetic look forward to the Messiah: “…and he shall give strength unto his king, and exalt the horn of his anointed” (1 Samuel 2:10).

Mary picks up exactly where Hannah left off. Hannah prayed in the shadow of the coming King; Mary prayed while carrying Him.

Hannah is the prototype of the believer who worships based on God’s character rather than immediate circumstances. Scripture tells us that after Hannah prayed in the temple—before she had conceived, before she had any physical evidence—“her countenance was no more sad” (1 Samuel 1:18).

She worshipped before the proof. Mary, knowing this history, steps into that same stream of faithfulness.

A Walk-Through of the Magnificat

Let’s look closely at Mary’s song in Luke 1, seeing how she weaves her personal experience into this grand tapestry of God’s covenant faithfulness.

Personal Humility and Sovereign Grace (vv. 46–49)

“For he hath regarded the low estate of his handmaiden: for, behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. For he that is mighty hath done to me great things; and holy is his name.”

Mary begins with her own position: “low estate.” She refers to herself as a “handmaiden,” a female servant or slave. There is no entitlement here. She doesn’t say, “God chose me because I was the most righteous girl in Nazareth.” She recognizes that this is an act of sovereign grace.

She magnifies the Lord. To “magnify” means to make large. Mary is not making God larger—He is already infinite—but she is making Him larger in her own estimation and in the eyes of those around her. When we are in a crisis, our problems tend to look big and God tends to look small. Worship reverses that ratio. It acts as a lens, bringing the greatness of God into sharp focus until the problem is eclipsed by His power.

The Pattern of Reversal (vv. 50–53)

“And his mercy is on them that fear him from generation to generation. He hath shewed strength with his arm; he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts. He hath put down the mighty from their seats, and exalted them of low degree.”

Here, Mary moves from her personal testimony to God’s global modus operandi. She describes a God who systematically overturns the world’s power structures.

The world says might makes right; God scatters the proud.

The world honors the wealthy and self-sufficient; God sends the rich empty away.

The world ignores the hungry; God fills them with good things.

This is the “Great Reversal.” It is the economy of the Kingdom of Heaven. Mary is celebrating the fact that God does not work the way Rome works. He does not work the way Wall Street works.

If you are feeling low, overlooked, or hungry for righteousness today, take heart: you are exactly the kind of person God exalts.

Covenant Faithfulness (vv. 54–55)

“He hath holpen his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy; As he spake to our fathers, to Abraham, and to his seed for ever.”

Mary finishes her song by anchoring her pregnancy in the ancient promises of God. She mentions Abraham. She realizes that the baby in her womb is not just her baby; He is the “seed” promised in Genesis, the One who would bless all the nations of the earth.

This proves that Mary knew her Bible. She understood that God was not starting something new, but finishing something He started at the very beginning. She trusted Him because He is a God who remembers His mercy.

The Core Lesson: Singing in the Tension

The most striking thing about both Hannah and Mary is that they model a faith that sings in the tension between the promise given and the promise fulfilled.

Think about Hannah. She left the temple that day with her face no longer sad.

Had she conceived yet? No. Was she still living in the same house as Peninnah, her rival who mocked her? Yes.

Her circumstances hadn’t changed one iota, but her heart had, because she had anchored herself in who God is.

Think about Mary. When she sang the Magnificat, she was still an unmarried pregnant teenager. She still had to go back to Nazareth. She still had to face the whispers of the townspeople. She still had to face the confusion of Joseph. She still had a long, dangerous journey to Bethlehem ahead of her, and a sword that would eventually pierce her soul.

She wasn’t singing because everything was perfect. She was singing because God was present.

This is the Advent posture. We live in the “already” and the “not yet.” Christ has come, but He has not yet returned. We have salvation, but we still groan in bodies that get sick and die. We have the victory, but we are still fighting the battle.

If you wait until all your problems are solved to sing, you may never sing.

If you wait until the bank account is full, the cancer is gone, and the family is reconciled to magnify the Lord, you are missing the power of faith. Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. Praise is the sound that faith makes.

Praise in the Real World

What does this look like in 2025? It’s not just theology; it’s survival.

Consider Becky. A single mom. It is December, and the eviction notice is looming. The math simply doesn’t add up. The world tells her to panic, to be bitter, to despair. But Becky knows the God of Hannah and Mary. Instead of spiraling, she opens her Bible to Luke 1. She prays, “Lord, You fill the hungry with good things. You lift up the lowly. I am lowly right now, God. I am asking You to be my Provider.” She turns on worship music in her small apartment and sings. She praises Him for His faithfulness before any relief shows up. That is the Magnificat in action.

Consider Caleb. A teenager facing a bully at school who seems to hold all the cards—popularity, strength, influence. Caleb wants to fight back or hide. But he reads that God “scatters the proud in the imagination of their hearts.” Caleb chooses to bless his enemy. He chooses to walk in integrity, thanking God that He is the defender of the weak. He praises God for the victory over his own anger before the situation at school changes.

Consider the Couple Waiting to Adopt. They have been through the paperwork, the background checks, and the heartbreaks of failed matches. The nursery is ready, but empty. It feels like Hannah’s barrenness. They choose to sit in that empty room and thank God that He is a Father to the fatherless. They thank Him for “holpening His servant.” They magnify the Lord for the family He is building, even when they cannot see it yet.

A Challenge for Your Week

Praising first is biblical warfare. It is covenant remembrance. It reorients your heart from the size of your problem to the size of your God.

This week, our challenge is simple:

Day 1: Read Hannah’s Song in 1 Samuel 2:1-10.

Day 2: Read Mary’s Magnificat in Luke 1:46-55.

Read them aloud. Let the duet of these two faithful women reshape your waiting. If you are in a season of waiting—for a spouse, for a job, for healing, for a prodigal to come home—borrow their words. Let their confidence become your confidence.

Closing Prayer

Let us pray with the spirit of Hannah and Mary:

Father, my heart exalts in the Lord. My soul magnifies You, for You look on the lowly. You are the God who breaks the bows of the mighty and girds the stumbling with strength. I may not see the answer yet, but I see You. I trust Your character more than my circumstances. Do to me according to Your word and Your covenant mercy. In the name of the Son You promised and provided, Jesus Christ. Amen.