Magnificat
James Tissot, 1890

My dear friends,

As we celebrate the third Sunday of Advent, we are called to rejoice in the coming light, a joy not grounded in worldly excitement, but in the inner certainty that love is being born among us. In the Bodhisattva path, such joy arises from bodhicitta, the awakening mind that seeks enlightenment for the sake of all beings. The song of Mary, known as the Magnificat, is a song of this awakening. It is the song of a soul ripened in humility and faith, ready to carry the light of Christ, which we may understand as the radiance of bodhicitta itself: love and wisdom in action.

The true Bodhisattva path begins with humility. Mary magnifies the Lord not by exalting herself, but by rejoicing in her own lowliness. This is not self-deprecation but the realization of egolessness—she is empty of self-clinging, and therefore full of the Spirit. Just as a clear mirror reflects the sun without distortion, so her soul reflects the divine presence perfectly. For us, this is the essence of practice: to rejoice in emptiness, to offer our minds as vessels for awakened compassion.

To be called blessed by all generations is not to be glorified in ego, but to be recognized as one who embodies the path. Mary’s blessing lies not in status, but in her total alignment with the sacred. In the Bodhisattva way, we too become instruments of the sacred when we allow bodhicitta to arise in our hearts. The 'great things' done by the Mighty One are not personal achievements; they are the spontaneous activities of wisdom and compassion working through a purified mindstream.

"Fear" of the Lord, rightly understood, is not terror but reverent awe: the trembling of the heart before the mystery of infinite compassion. This awe opens the door to mercy, which flows without ceasing to all who turn toward it. On the Bodhisattva path, this mercy is the very activity of compassion (karuṇā), sustained generation after generation by those who have vowed not to turn away from suffering until all are free.

Pride blinds the mind, trapping it in self-centered delusion. The "strength" of the Lord is the power of truth, which shatters these delusions and scatters the illusions of ego. In lojong training, we learn to see self-importance as the root of all suffering. The divine arm is like the sword of wisdom (prajñā) that severs clinging and cuts through the obscurations of the heart.

Here the great reversal of the Kingdom is proclaimed: those who grasp for power are brought low, while the humble are raised up. Those who hunger and thirst for truth and righteousness are satisfied. This is the economy of bodhicitta: it fills the empty with abundance and empties the full of their vanity. The Bodhisattva walks into the suffering of the world not to conquer, but to serve, knowing that real power lies in renunciation, and real wealth in generosity.

The promise of mercy is fulfilled not in a single historical moment, but in the eternal now of awakened presence. Mary sings of the faithfulness of God, a mirror of the faithfulness of the Bodhisattva vow. Just as Israel is sustained by divine remembrance, so too are all beings upheld by the inexhaustible compassion of those who remember their vow to save them. To walk this path is to become, like Mary, a bearer of the promise, a living vessel of sacred intention, in whom the light of Christ-bodhicitta is continually reborn.

Let us then rejoice, not with the fleeting joy of the world, but with the great joy of the Gospel and the Dharma: the joy of awakening, the joy of giving birth to love, the joy of a soul that magnifies the Lord. In Mary’s Magnificat, we hear the voice of the Bodhisattva, proclaiming the victory of compassion over pride, mercy over power, and truth over illusion. May her words inspire us to walk the same path of self-offering, in this Advent season and always.