THE PARISH CHURCHES of
NORTH MARSTON and GRANBOROUGH
SERMON FOR THIS WEEK​
Sunday 30th November 2025
ADVENT SUNDAY
"My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord
and my spirit exults in God my saviour."
Luke 1:46
Sermon for Café Church, 30th November 2025 at Granborough Village Hall
1st Sunday of Advent
By Peter Evans
So, it’s the first Sunday in Advent. The countdown to Christmas has officially started. Lights are up in lots of places. Most commercial Advent calendars start tomorrow. Stir up Sunday is behind us and Christmas prep is well underway.
Of course, the big retailers start to lure us in almost as soon as they are done with Halloween. Christmas songs start to accompany the TV ads. Although when I tried Youtube for ads, I mainly got ones for things I’d already bought, with no Christmas songs whatsoever.
I’ve been thinking about some of the Christmas songs that we get at this time of year. An awful lot are utter dross (no names mentioned), but some have real substance, or at least a hint of it.
I like Chris de Burgh’s “A spaceman came travelling”. It tells the Christmas story from a parallel perspective. Or Jona Lewie’s “Stop the cavalry”. It wasn’t written as a Christmas song. It was written as an all era anti war song, about the eternal soldier who would really rather be doing something different. Be somewhere else. But the record company took a different view and because it mentioned being home for Christmas, it got tweaked a bit and the rest is history. Even so, it’s stood the test of time, and is popular all round.
I started to wonder about where Christmas and Advent songs and carols all started. Someone in church had a good go with Gaudete (Steeleye Span, 1972), but of course, it’s based on a 16th Century Scandinavian song. Still a few hundred years earlier than Stop the Cavalry.
But the real and incontestable winner is the Magnificat. Most translations simply refer to it as Mary’s song. It got its name from one of the Greek words used in the original text which means “magnify”. Magnificat is just the Latin variant.
And it is just an amazing piece of scripture. You can tell that Mary is happy.
Mary’s song
And Mary said:
‘My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord
and my spirit exults in God my saviour;
because he has looked upon his lowly handmaid.
Yes, from this day forward all generations will call me blessed,
for the Almighty has done great things for me.
Holy is his name,
and his mercy reaches from age to age for those who fear him.
He has shown the power of his arm, he has routed the proud of heart.
He has pulled down princes from their thrones and exalted the lowly.
The hungry he has filled with good things, the rich sent empty away.
He has come to the help of Israel his servant, mindful of his mercy
-according to the promise he made to our ancestors-
of his mercy to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.’
It’s a wonderful hymn of praise to God – because of His awesome majesty, His righteousness and justice. It’s a song of thanks to God and picks out some powerful themes of God’s character.
And although the Magnificat stands alone in its own right, it makes most sense when looked at in the context of the whole of Luke chapter 1.
Paraphrased, Luke chapter 1 looks like this, but it’s also worth taking some time out to read the whole chapter.
The angel Gabriel tells Zechariah that he is going to be a dad – in fact the father of John the Baptist, who will prepare the way for Jesus. Zechariah doesn’t believe Gabriel and is struck dumb until John the Baptist is born.
Gabriel then visits Mary with the big announcement. Mary will fall pregnant and give birth to the Messiah, and He shall be called Jesus. Mary says she is the Lord’s servant, willingly accepting what is coming.
Gabriel also tells Mary that her cousin Elizabeth is also pregnant – Elizabeth who is Zechariah’s wife. So Mary travels to visit her.
Elizabeth is very excited when Mary arrives and is filled with the Holy Spirit. And Mary then responds with the Magnificat.
Chapter 1 has an amazing storyline.
And it contains one of the biggest announcements in history.
Our society is full of announcements. The train departing from platform 11 etc. Or events in the Times, usually covering births, marriages and deaths, or the court circular. But this one caught my eye, when I was looking for examples.
DINNER
Marylebone Cricket Club
Mr Charles Fry, Club Chairman of MCC, was in the Chair at a Club Dinner held at Lord’s last night. Mr Nigel Plews proposed the toast to “Cricket” and the Chairman responded.
Succinct, or what?
The thing is though, Gabriel’s announcement to Mary is not just an announcement, it’s also a calling. In one sense, Mary does not appear to have any choice, but the way she responds, shows that she is treating it as a calling – responding to God’s will, to God’s plan for her life.
And of course, God is calling us too. He has a plan for our lives. We are God’s plan for His kingdom. And in we are called to serve.
In a very generic sense, the following is a list of things that God is calling us to. But it may be that for you, reading this now, there is a very specific sense of calling that you are trying to discern. The sort of thing that needs prayer and the discerning wisdom of friends. As I wrote this list below, all of it is stuff that is important to me, things that are on my to do list. Very much a work in progress.
God wants me to be more loving
God wants me to stop being judgmental
God wants me to follow where He leads
God wants me to be kinder
God wants me to stop moaning
God wants to me serve others in some way
God wants me to spend some time in prayer considering how He might be calling me.
God wants me to spend time in prayer with Him every day.
God wants me to read His word
God wants me to pray for others
God wants to me tell other people about Him
God would love for me to truly put Him first
God really wants me to understand how much He loves me
God wants me to let the Holy Spirit rule my life
God wants me to be patient, even when it’s really hard to be
God wants me to let Him lead me through my life, wherever that may take me.
God wants me to live with His law written on my heart
Looking at this list, it may seem daunting. We may not think that we have the skills or experience to follow where God wants to lead. But we need to remember that
God equips those He calls, rather than Him only calling those already equipped.
Mary was called and she didn’t shy away. In verse 38, at the end of Gabriel’s announcement, she says:
38 ‘I am the Lord’s servant,’ Mary answered. ‘May your word to me be fulfilled.’
Mary knows that she is called.
Mary responds by praising God in her song. But there is another aspect to this song that is sometimes overlooked. It contains a lot of pointers about the Kingdom of God.
From the second half of Mary’s song, we see the following:
Proud thoughts are scattered.
Rulers are brought down.
The humble are lifted up.
The hungry are filled.
But the rich are sent away empty.
We see similar things in the song of Hannah in 1 Samuel 2, which in many ways is quite like Mary’s song. But we also see these principles laid out in Jesus’ teaching in the sermon on the mount.
From Matthew chapter 5, from the passage known as the Beatitudes, we see:
Blessed are the:
Poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers and the persecuted.
And each is followed with a promise, being comforted, inheriting the earth, being filled, being shown mercy, seeing God, being a child of God, and the Kingdom of Heaven.
Those in the Magnificat, in Hannah’s song and in Jesus’ teaching are known as reversals. Things that go against conventional wisdom or the way we’ve always done things.
This is radical stuff in so many ways. In Roman Palestine at the time of Jesus, the poor were non people. Society was, bloody, ruthless and class structured. The poor did not count. Yet theirs is the Kingdom of heaven.
And Jesus himself said that he came not to be served, but to serve. Our king, whom we worship, came to earth to serve us.
The Kingdom of Heaven is a flipped Kingdom. Things are not as we would expect.
A topsy turvy kingdom, where normal rules do not apply.
Think of some more things that Jesus said.
The last will be first and the first will be last.
Unless you become as a little child, you will not be able to enter the Kingdom of Heaven
God’s value system is not the same as ours. God looks at the heart.
Yet God’s kingdom can be challenging. The flipped nature of His kingdom can challenge our ethics, our sense of justice, our sense of entitlement even.
The kingdom is not about how much money we have, or how successful our church is, or how much influence we have. It’s about how we love Jesus and love others.
Jesus might as well have said “The Kingdom of heaven is for outsiders”. And so often, it is when we engage with “outsiders” whoever they may be, that we encounter God the most.
Jesus illustrates this with the parable of the Good Samaritan. Jews hated Samaritans but Jesus said that the Samaritans were their neighbours. And by extension, our neighbour is anyone in front of us who has a need. Even people who trigger our prejudices.
And there was one other major “reversal” that Jesus brought, and it was in telling us to pray to our Father. Jews were very reverential - in prayer, and of God, but would never have called God “father” – as Jesus taught us to do. We are people of the king and we approach our God as our Father.
And Jesus always called God “Father”. It shows the intimacy of the relationship. There was just one exception - the time just before He dies on the cross. When He is separated from His Father by the sin of the world.
And with that in mind, a good way for us to finish here is to say the Lord’s prayer.
Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name,
your kingdom come, your will be done,
on earth as in heaven.
Give us today our daily bread.
Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.
Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.
For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours
now and for ever. Amen.
May we all know our calling. And may we all know our God as our Father.
Amen
Mary and Elizabeth,
the Church of the Visitation, Ein Karem, Jerusalem.
Sermon preached at Wesley Centre, North Marston,
on Advent Sunday, 30th November 2025
By Rev Petra Elsmore​
READING
Luke 1:39-55
Mary visits Elizabeth
39 At that time Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea, 40 where she entered Zechariah’s home and greeted Elizabeth. 41 When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. 42 In a loud voice she exclaimed: ‘Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! 43 But why am I so favoured, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? 44 As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. 45 Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfil his promises to her!’
​Mary’s song
46 And Mary said:‘My soul glorifies the Lord
47 and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour,
48 for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant.
From now on all generations will call me blessed,
49 for the Mighty One has done great things for me –
holy is his name.
50 His mercy extends to those who fear him,
from generation to generation.
51 He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;
he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.
52 He has brought down rulers from their thrones
but has lifted up the humble.
53 He has filled the hungry with good things
but has sent the rich away empty.
54 He has helped his servant Israel,
remembering to be merciful
55 to Abraham and his descendants for ever,
just as he promised our ancestors.’
56 Mary stayed with Elizabeth for about three months and then returned home.
SERMON
I’ve told you often enough that our Marcus loves playing Christmas carols long before anyone else. He plays them before they appear on the radio, before the supermarkets put out their Christmas displays, sometimes even before we’re ready to hear them. He used to start in October, that used to be our line, This year we tried very hard not to let him play them before the beginning of the school year. I’ve often wondered what draws him to carols more than to any other hymns. Perhaps it’s the tunes — memorable, hopeful, full of energy and determination. They lift our spirits. And maybe that’s simply what he loves: music that helps us rise a little above the heaviness of life.
When I think of Advent, I think that this is exactly the time of year when we need our spirits lifted. The days grow short, the cold settles in, and darkness can weigh on us. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed by the news of the world or even by the struggles closer to home. And of course, the lectionary readings at the start of Advent don’t help much — they’re full of gloom and warning. This year, I found myself unable to face them. So instead, I chose a different doorway into Advent: the story of Mary.
Luke 1:39–55 that we’ve heard earlier, gathers together everything Advent is meant to awaken within us. Like the hopeful music of the carols we love, it invites us into waiting, longing, and quiet courage. Mary carries God’s promise within her, and that promise transforms her — from a young girl into a courageous young woman who trusts God enough to move forward, even when the future is unclear. After Gabriel’s startling announcement, the story becomes surprisingly ordinary.
Mary goes to visit her cousin Elizabeth. Two women, both surprised by unexpected pregnancies, both facing uncertainty, and both aware that their lives — and the lives of others — will never be the same. And yet they meet in an ordinary home, offering each other support and comfort, giving each other courage. It’s a reminder: we cannot face life’s challenges alone. But with the presence of someone who understands, we can walk through situations that might otherwise feel frightening or impossible.
I imagine Mary found exactly that in Elizabeth — a companion who strengthened her as she prepared to say her full “yes” to God.
And after that visit, Mary sings. “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour.”
Mary doesn’t sing because everything has suddenly become easy. Her future is still uncertain. Her country is still under Roman occupation. Her life is still marked by danger and hardship. Soon she will have to travel far from home while heavily pregnant. And yet she sings. And her singing is full of courage and hope.
Where does her hope come from?
Not from her circumstances — but from God.
Mary sees the world clearly. She names the powerful, the hungry, the proud, the lowly. She doesn’t deny the injustice around her. But she also sees, very clearly, the God who acts within history. She holds both reality and promise together. That is a real hope.
Today, when we look at the continuing suffering in Gaza, Ukraine, Sudan, and when we consider the hardships facing by many people within our own country, and at times, our own struggles, hope can feel like the last thing we want to or are able to reach for. When we consider how often humanity seems unable to learn from the mistakes of the past, hope can feel naïve.
But Christian hope does not come from our circumstances. It comes from God. Like Mary, we dare to hope because God is faithful, even when the world is not. And in that small home where Mary visited Elizabeth, something very special, something beautiful happened. Each woman carried a fragile promise from God, and together they created a small community of courage. Elizabeth’s welcome strengthened Mary; Mary’s joy encouraged Elizabeth. Hope grew between them — not through grand actions, but simply through presence, by listening, and by sharing their faith.
A few weeks ago, I listened to a lecture by a Kenyan theologian called “Weaving Peace and Hope.” She spoke of weaving — pulling different threads together — as an image of how peace and hope emerge within community. People of different backgrounds, stories, and traditions come together, and through listening, sharing memories, and holding differences gently, they weave something strong and beautiful. Such practice enables communities to overcome difficulties and build futures which have hope and peace in the foundation. She spoke of the women she grew up among, gathering to tell stories, to resolve conflict, to work together.
I can’t help thinking how different the world would be if our leaders approached conflicts like that — with a willingness to listen, to honour each other’s stories, to search for the common good rather than for power, or by being driven by ambition or even greed. Mary and Elizabeth wove peace in that small house — not by solving their world’s problems, but by offering each other compassion, joy, and understanding.
We may feel powerless in the face of global suffering, but we can weave peace close to home: by being attentive in a distracted world, by listening deeply, by supporting neighbours, welcoming strangers, encouraging one another to trust God’s promise. Seeing the truth of the world can be overwhelming. But seeing clearly is the first step to trusting God. And from that trust grows the courage to weave peace and hope into our daily lives — through ordinary acts: listening, welcoming, blessing, forgiving, sharing meals, showing mercy, holding one another with love.
Mary’s song of praise, her Magnificat, is a brave proclamation that God’s mercy and love are stronger than any force that harms. It is very easy to think that the powers of destruction, that we so often witness in our world today, that these powers have the ultimate hold on our world. It takes courage to see those powers at work, yet to put our trust in God and to know that his mercy and his love is stronger that any other power in the world.
Mary knew that. And that’s why she sung. She sung with courage and hope. And in this Advent season, we are invited to join her — to become threads in the fabric of God’s peace, to sing hope into a world longing for healing, and to wait for the fulfilment of his promise in Jesus Christ.
Closing Prayer
Loving God,
as we enter this Advent season,
we thank you for the quiet courage of Mary and Elizabeth,
for their trust, their hope,
and their willingness to carry your promise.
Make us people of hope —not because our circumstances are easy,
but because you are faithful.
As we wait for Christ’s coming,
may our lives become threads of your love and light.
And may the song of Mary —a song of courage, justice, and joy —
echo in us throughout this season and
into the world you call us to serve.
We pray in the name of Jesus,
our Emmanuel, God with us.
Amen.​