Magnificent Magnificat: Judgment's Scales & the Words "Not Yet"

What if a teenage girl from nowhere spoke words that still topple empires—scattering the proud, lifting the lowly, filling the hungry, and sending the rich away empty? Mary's Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55) isn't just prayer; it's prophecy, revolution, and the song of the Theotokos, full of grace, whose simple "Fiat" rewrote the universe. Generations call her blessed, yet her story is one of quiet, unwavering discipleship—she never left His side, from the angel's greeting to the foot of the cross.

In this episode, we uncover the radical hope and joy hidden in her words: mercy across generations, thrones overturned, promises to Abraham kept. We reflect on what perfect discipleship looks like when the world scatters and one voice stays.

Stories that will stay with you:
• A frightened young sailor on Pacific night watch, praying the Rosary with ten fingers, discovering Mama Mary answers when no one else can.
• The ancient tale from St. Louis de Montfort: a king who wore the Rosary proudly on his hip as a symbol for others—never praying it himself—until, at the edge of judgment, it became the very thing that tipped the scales.
• Wearing my own paracord Rosary openly at the 2024 Eucharistic Congress, surrounded by thousands of religious.
• And the one I've never shared publicly: a night at Richardson's restaurant when nerves ignited from toes to fingertips, the world faded to black, and in the darkness a familiar statue spoke two words that pulled me back: "Not yet."

What do those words mean when everything feels finished? What happens when Mary's intercession meets the scales of eternity? This isn't theory—it's lived hope. She intercedes, she stays, she points to her Son: "Do whatever He tells you."

If you're searching for deeper devotion, unity across traditions in honoring Mary, or a quiet reminder that your story isn't over, press play. Let her Magnificat stir something in you. We're not done yet.

#Magnificat #Rosary #CatholicPodcast #MamaMary #NotYet #Theotokos 

Transcript

Welcome to Spes et Gaudium, a podcast pilgrimage. I'm Moses, and it's great to have you here with me today. 

In the last two episodes, we explored the radical ideas of obedience and fasting. Today, we shift from concepts to a person—a countercultural figure whose "Fiat," whose actions, whose very existence changed the universe forever. And get this: it wasn't some battle-hardened warrior dropping truth bombs from a mountaintop. It was a teenage girl from a nowhere town—pregnant, praising God with words that still shake empires. 

This episode draws from my blog post at mosessanchez.com—one of those pieces that reminds us how God uses the unexpected to upend a world that often overlooks the humble. We need to recognize what perfect discipleship looks like—and emulate it. 

Prayer Intention & Opening Prayer 

Today's prayer intention is for all those searching for God, seeking to follow Jesus more closely, and for unity in honoring Mary across Christian traditions. Let us pray: 

Lord, like Mary, help us magnify You in our lives. Fill us with Your Spirit, as the Gospel of Luke describes. "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior." Amen. 

Excerpts from the Blog: Prophets & the Radical Prophecy 

The post opens with the Old Testament prophets—bold voices like Elijah mocking Baal's priests (and yeah, it was pretty funny), Jeremiah calling out kings with grit and fire, their words shaking empires. 

But then comes this prophecy in Luke's Gospel—something radically different from the cultural norms of the time. Remember, the Old Testament often framed blessings for the righteous and curses for the wicked: do right by God, get prosperity; stray, face hardship. Think of the lepers, the outcasts. 

Yet here, in Luke 1, we hear praise for God's holiness and mercy across generations. The proud are scattered, thrones toppled, the hungry filled, the rich sent away empty—while God's promise to Abraham endures. 

Let me read it for you (Luke 1:46-55): 

"My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants forever." 

Come on—that sounds like Isaiah, or a mash-up of the Psalms! But here's the twist: it's spoken by a teenage girl visiting her cousin. What teenager talks like that? Come on—who among us knows a young person speaking with such prophetic power? 

The post stresses that Mary isn't just "the girl next door." She's the Theotokos—Greek for "God-bearer," the Mother of God. The Magnificat is in Luke 1:46-55. St. Thomas Aquinas defines prophecy as knowing distant things, and Scripture says Mary foresees generations calling her blessed. St. Ambrose explains that "magnifying" God means letting His Spirit grow in us. 

Let me read it one more time, slowly: 

[Repeat the full Magnificat as above, with deliberate pacing for reflection.] 

Personal Reflection: My First Encounter with Mama Mary 

My first real connection with "Mama Mary"—as we affectionately call her in my circles—happened out at sea. I share this in my book, The Ultimate Rosary. As a young man, maybe 10 or 11, I memorized the Hail Mary and Rosary prayers, but I didn't have a deep connection. That changed one night in the Pacific while serving on a ship. 

I'd gotten in trouble—details fuzzy now—and faced Captain's Mast the next day. The captain was judge, jury, and executioner. This was my first of many times standing before him, and I was terrified. On lookout duty, rotating positions, scanning the night sky, my mind raced—imagining the worst. No cell phones, no email—just stars and growing panic. 

In that moment, I remembered what my mother taught: Ask Mary for her intercession. Go to Mama Mary. So I did—using my ten fingers as beads. That was my first true encounter with her: out on the ocean, scared, asking for help. 

Falling Away & Returning 

Fast-forward years later. I'd fallen away from the Church for five or six years—only attending Mass when visiting family on Sundays. No personal devotion. 

Eventually, I found my way back. About five years ago, I leveled up—studied intensely, earned my certificate in apologetics (a two-year course). During research for The Ultimate Rosary, I discovered a classic story from St. Louis de Montfort's The Secret of the Rosary. 

It's about King Alfonso VII of León. He wanted his courtiers and servants to honor the Blessed Virgin by praying the Rosary regularly. To set an example, he wore a large rosary hanging from his belt—on his hip—as a visible sign of devotion. The twist? He rarely prayed it himself; it was more a symbol to inspire others. 

His courtiers saw the king wearing it prominently and took it to heart—they began praying it faithfully. Later, when the king fell gravely ill, he had a vision of judgment. Sins weighed heavily on the scales. Our Lady appeared, placed the rosary he wore (plus all those prayed through his example) on the other side. It balanced—or outweighed—the sins. She interceded, and he recovered. 

He awoke and exclaimed something like: "Blessed be the Rosary of the Most Holy Virgin Mary, by which I have been delivered!" From then on, he prayed it daily and promoted it earnestly. 

That story stuck with me. 

The Eucharistic Congress & Wearing My Rosary 

In July 2024, I attended the National Eucharistic Congress in Indianapolis—the first in decades in America. Tens of thousands gathered—thousands of religious brothers and sisters from every order. It felt like a movie. Many wore rosaries attached to their belts. 

I had one from my friend Jonathan—paracord, strong and comfortable. So I tied it to my belt loop, on my hip. It's been almost two years now—I almost always have it there. Only in workout clothes does it go in my pocket. 

The "Not Yet" Story – A Personal Encounter 

One last story—very personal, never shared publicly before, only with close friends. 

About two years ago, April 2024, at Richardson's in Phoenix (great New Mexican food). I was with my wife and friends—six or eight of us—in a corner booth, built-in, wrap-around. I took the corner seat; once settled, I stay put. 

We were laughing, having fun. Half a margarita, food maybe just arriving. Details hazy—perspectives varied when we recapped later. 

To my right: buddy Mike. To my left: my wife. As Mike talked, I felt drowsy—like fighting sleep and losing. "I didn't drink that much." Held up my hand: "One second." Took off my glasses (rare for me), rubbed my face, leaned to my wife: "Honey, I don't feel so good." 

Then—nerves on fire from toes to fingertips: tingling, hot, like full-body funny bone or being tased. Everything locked; I collapsed. 

I woke briefly—wife's fingers in my mouth, checking airway. She prayed: Our Father, Hail Mary. Then: "Just let go, honey. It's okay." Relief washed over me. I let go—darkness, falling. 

In the darkness: a statue of the Virgin Mary—one I'd seen before but couldn't place. Clear as day: "Not yet. Not yet." 

Bam—I woke outside Richardson's on a chair. Ambulance checking vitals. They said I looked good, but my wife insisted on the hospital. 

In the ambulance, I pulled out my hip rosary and prayed aloud—not meditatively, just repeating for comfort: Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory Be, decade after decade. 

At the hospital: three CT scans (head, chest, abdomen), blood work—everything negative. No COVID. Earlier, I'd taken Paxlovid (thought I had COVID). Doctor discharged me with a firm warning: "Never take that again." 

Closing Reflection: Mary as Perfect Disciple 

That phrase—"Not yet"—sticks. In close calls—traffic, health—my wife and I say, "Not yet." Means we're not done. More work. More life. 

Mama Mary has been there since my mother introduced her—and even before. She was there when I thought I was dying. 

I don't get offended by debates—perpetual virginity, veneration vs. worship. A quick search shows what the Church teaches. I defend her like my own mother—no need for debates. 

Scripture shows Mary as the perfect disciple: full of grace. When you meet someone radiating grace—pastor, grandmother, saint—you sense something special. Mary was full of grace. 

The others scattered at arrest. Mary stayed—at the foot of the cross. From the Annunciation to visiting Elizabeth (this Magnificat), through the Seven Sorrows, to the end. She never left. Never made it about herself. 

Her last words in Scripture: "Do whatever he tells you." 

Mary's Magnificat is magnificent. Her "Yes"—her Fiat—changed everything. I'm honored to call her Mama Mary. 

Teaser for Next Episode 

That's all for today. Next time, we zoom back to fundamentals: fear. It's taboo in religion—negative emotion—but Jesus spoke about it often, telling us what to fear and what not to. We'll dive in. 

Final Prayer – The Magnificat 

Let's wrap with straight Scripture—the Magnificat: 

"My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants forever." 

Amen.