The Magnificat bears witness to how Mary understood her vocation to be continuous with that of all the ‘poor’ who had gone before her, understood it as meant to be spiritually fruitful in a similar way. The Bible showed her that, when God must choose a human being for a special task, he looks for this person among the poor, the lowly, even the barren. She could no longer be surprised that he had chosen her.
Finally, Mary consulted someone with experience. Her cousin Elizabeth was another whose life had been turned upside down by an incredible pregnancy, which forced her “to hide herself away for five months” (Lk 1, 24). Mary therefore “went as quickly as she could” to her (Lk 1, 39), for she could no longer keep her secret to herself, could no longer bear the burden alone.
The two women met and understood each other. They spoke of their trials, their reflections, their prayers. And Elizabeth gave Mary strength, <saying, in all probability>:
“Yes, you are right to believe. Yes, it is the Lord who has been acting in your life. He has asked more of you than of anyone else, but he is generous in proportion to what he asks. Thanks to him, every suffering turns into joy, every trial into a reward. My own child has become for me a source of joy and pride that is a prophetic proclamation of how much greater your own joy will be.”
It was then that Mary sang her Magnificat, and not after the Annunciation, for after the latter she felt much too uneasy and disturbed. The Magnificat sprang from her heart after the Visitation. The real angel in her life was this woman who had suffered as she was suffering, and who encouraged her to believe.
How much time shall we devote to singing our own Magnificat? Our Magnificat for our vocation, for our marriage, for our children, for our parents, for all the missions to which God urges us?