Pastor Richard Johnson
He Has Scattered the
Proud
During our midweek services this Advent, we’ve been focusing on the Magnificat, Mary’s song of praise to God
for the great thing he has done by allowing her to be the mother of the
Messiah. We’ve focused on it these past weeks, and now it comes again on this
Fourth Sunday of Advent as the time for the birth of Christ draws close. I want
to reflect with you on one line from this great canticle—one that fell to
Pastor Judith in the Wednesday rotation, so I didn’t get to deal with it then.
Yet to me it is one of the most remarkable verses in the canticle. It is the
second phrase in verse 51: “He has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their
hearts”—or, as the older translations usually put it, “He has scattered the
proud in the imagination of their hearts.”
Pride is a concept that has had some significant rehabilitation in
modern times. Bookstores are filled with books that urge us to think positively
of ourselves, to work on our own self-image. Pride has almost become a virtue.
We want to be proud, not just of ourselves, but of our town, our church, our
nation, our family. We want to feel proud of our home, our achievements. And we
think there is nothing wrong with this, that to do otherwise is to be
psychologically unhealthy.
The Bible has a different view of pride. The Bible teaches that pride
is a sin. In the middle ages, the church talked about “seven deadly sins,” and
pride was generally listed as number one. Christian thinkers from Augustine to
Luther to C. S. Lewis have said that pride is the primary sin, the central
spiritual problem for all of us human beings. In many ways, the Bible itself
reads like a textbook of human pride: it shows us, over and over again, what happens
to people infected with this spiritual disease.
Now the Bible does not mean that self-respect is wrong; indeed,
self-respect is a very Biblical idea. The catechism says that “God created me”—and the Bible teaches that women and
men are created in God’s image, that God loves humanity above any other
creature. For a young child to say, “Look at me, see what I can do!” is an
important part of his development, coming at a period in life when it is
important to build self-confidence and a sense of self-worth.
But when the Bible talks about pride, it is talking about those who
have gotten beyond childhood. It is talking about us, when we think more highly
of ourselves than we ought to think. The Biblical word here literally means “to
appear too high”—the proud are those who “appear too high” in their own eyes.
Thus the nation of
The problem with pride is very simple: it takes God out of the center
and puts us there in his place. The proud are those who have become preoccupied
with themselves and what others think of them, so that they forget God. Soon
their perception of themselves, of other people, of all the world around them,
become distorted. What they begin to want is not God’s will, but their own
will; what they seek is not God’s glory, but their own glory.
In some ways I think Christmas is often the time of year when our pride
gets most out of hand. How many Christmas letters do we receive, filled with an
account of what has made the writer proud this year? How much energy do we
spend looking for “the perfect gift”—not so much perfect for the intended
recipient, but perfect for our view of ourselves as the thoughtful and generous
giver?
I’ll never forget an incident that happened my very first year as a
pastor. I was preparing a children’s sermon, and I needed some building
blocks—the classic kind with colorful letters of the alphabet on the sides. I
happened to be at Macy’s, and saw just what I wanted—for five dollars, a lot of
money for a young pastor in 1975. Too much money. Later that day I was at
Long’s and saw exactly the same blocks, manufactured by exactly the same
company—for 99 cents. I bought them.
I had a parishioner who worked as a salesperson at Macy’s, and so I
asked her how it was possible that I could pay 99 cents for something at
Long’s, but Macy’s wanted me to pay five bucks. She smiled, amused at my
naïveté: “Because a lot of grandparents would never dream of buying toys for
their precious grandchildren at Long’s,” she said. “It would be humiliating.”
Of course the irony is that the Christmas story is about how
unimpressed God is with our prideful ways. It begins with the prophets like
Micah, who prophesied that Christ would be born, not in
And the girl chosen to be mother of the Messiah—not a princess, or a
saintly and respected woman, but a little girl named Mary, a girl who was
unknown. Listen to her words: “My soul magnifies the Lord for he has regarded
the lowliness of his handmaiden.” God
chooses her, not for her piety or beauty, but for her lowliness. He has
scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts!
Then the birth itself—not in a palace, but a stable. Not attended by
lords and ladies, officials and rules, priests and rich people, but by
shepherds and cows. By common people who lived in the fields! And the child was
laid, not in a fine cradle but in a manger, the feedbox of a donkey! At one of
the midweek services I quoted a medieval hymn, O Magnum Mysterium: O great mystery and wondrous sign, that animals
should see the newborn Lord lying in a manger. He has scattered the proud!
And the meaning of the birth! This was no ordinary child, but the Son
of God. His name was “Jesus”—which means “God saves.” But how does God save?
Not with guns and ships and heavy artillery, those things that are the supposed
salvation of mighty kingdoms and nations. God has conquered in another way. He
has put down the mighty from their thrones and lifted up the lowly. He has
scattered the proud!—coming to us, not in strength but in weakness, as a little
child, as Luther put it, no stronger than an earthworm! Yes, he has scattered
the proud.
There are no proud people in the stable where Christ is born. In that
stable, in that baby, in that mother, in those shepherds, in that insignificant
village, the message is this: Give glory to God! Not to people, to
surroundings, to possessions, not to yourself. In a stable in
I once attended a worship service at a very high-class