Für Texte wie das Magnificat ist Eugene Petersons The Message für mein Empfinden immer noch unerreicht. Peterson ist ein Poet, nicht nur ein Modernisierer oder Verfremder, mit einer Fülle von frischen Bildern und Begriffen, die ihresgleichen sucht. Also – lasst Euch die Mutter aller Adventslieder auf der Zunge zergehen (sorry, dazu gibt’s keine Übersetzung für Englischmuffel):
I’m bursting with God-news;
I’m dancing the song of my Savior God.
God took one good look at me, and look what happened—
I’m the most fortunate woman on earth!
What God has done for me will never be forgotten,
the God whose very name is holy, set apart from all others.
His mercy flows in wave after wave
on those who are in awe before him.
He bared his arm and showed his strength,
scattered the bluffing braggarts.
He knocked tyrants off their high horses,
pulled victims out of the mud.
The starving poor sat down to a banquet;
the callous rich were left out in the cold.
He embraced his chosen child, Israel;
he remembered and piled on the mercies, piled them high.
It’s exactly what he promised,
beginning with Abraham and right up to now.
