Malachi 3:1-4, Psalm 84; Hebrews 2:14-18; Luke 2:22-40
February 2, 2025
David Mealy
May the words of our mouths, the meditations of our hearts, and the actions of our livesBe always acceptable in your sight,Oh Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.
I took a walk in Glen Canyon earlier this week and noticed small, bright green buds on some of the willow trees by the creek. These harbingers of spring may not surprise the gardeners among you, but with all the upheaval in our country in the past weeks, I had not noticed this cycle of rebirth happening around me. It was wonderful to be reminded of the hope of new beginnings that spring brings to us.
February 2 is kind of a random date in the calendar of our daily lives, but in our liturgical calendar it also brings the hope of new beginnings. It marks the Presentation of Our Lord in the temple in Jerusalem, and the associated return of light to the world that we mark with Candlemas.
The week leading up to February second is a hodgepodge of customs and celebrations around the world. On the lunar Islamic calendar, the 27th of Rajab marks the Prophet Mohammed’s ascension to the heavens and coincides with our calendar date of January 27. The Lunar New Year was celebrated by many on January 29. The Irish have a national holiday on February 1, St. Brigid’s Day, and many cultures have feasts and celebrations that mark the coming of spring.
In American popular culture, we, of course, celebrate February 2 with a groundhog. But even Punxsutawney Phil has symbolic roots in the Christian tradition of Candlemas and the Presentation.
The Presentation of Jesus in the temple is a pivotal event between the old and the new. It honors the rituals of Mosaic law around the birth of a child while also bringing the divine in human form into the world for all to see. Today’s Gospel brings us this event by laying out a wonderful scene, rich in characters and drama.
On its face, this story doesn’t sound very promising. In the eighteen verses we hear today, a family brings their baby to the temple to fulfill a ritual of atonement. While they are there, two strangers say – and sing – strange things to them, then the family goes home and the child grows up. Yet this odd story has enriched our liturgy and fixed itself in our calendar. It occurs forty days after Christmas, a period required under the ancient laws. It gives us one of our last glimpses of Mary, Joseph and Jesus together in public. (The only other glimpse in Luke appears in the next verse after today’s reading, when the twelve-year- old Jesus goes missing for three days and his very worried parents finally find him in the temple, talking with the teachers.) Today’s Gospel immerses us in the rituals of the old faith while offering us a glimpse of what is to come.
The waiting period of forty days for a mother to appear in the temple after the birth of a child was rooted in a ritual purification rite. It has come down to us as a time of giving thanks for the health of the mother or offering our gratitude for an adoption, to welcome the family back into the life of the church. Our Book of Common Prayer includes “A Thanksgiving for the Birth or Adoption of a Child” that does just that. In Luke’s story, once Mary and Joseph have waited out the forty days, they come to the temple to present Jesus in a sacrificial ritual involving birds. This ritual was required for a firstborn son, and is rooted in the remembrance of God’s deliverance of the Israelites from Egypt and God’s sparing of their firstborn sons.
The Presentation of Jesus is foretold in the first reading we heard today. In it, the prophet Malachi says “the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple,” and indeed that comes to pass in Luke’s Gospel. Underscoring the importance of this event, two prophets who are strangers to the family, Simeon and Anna, separately come up to the family to praise God and testify that the child is the one people have been waiting for, the one who will redeem Jerusalem and bring light to the Gentiles and glory to Israel.
Neither of these two prophets are seen again. Anna doesn’t even have a speaking role.
Simeon, however, has a great part in this dramatic scene in Luke. He holds Jesus in his arms and offers praise to God that he, Simeon, has been given the chance to see salvation, as God had promised him he would. He can now depart in peace.
Simeon’s words have come to be known to us by the first line, which, in Latin, is “Nunc Dimittis”. It is the fifth and last canticle, or hymn, that appears in the first two chapters of Luke. The others are the “Magnificat”, also known as the Song of Mary, the “Benedictus” from the words of Zechariah, husband of Elizabeth, and the “Gloria in Excelcis Deo” sung by the angels (we will hear Simeon’s words again in the Nunc Dimittis, which will be sung a little later in today’s service). Simeon’s words include “A light for revelation to the Gentiles” (or, as I learned it growing up, “A light to lighten the Gentiles”). That light is symbolized by the candles we use in our worship, candles that provide warmth and light. They also remind us that we are called to bring Jesus’ light out into the world. Simeon’s words became so central to our liturgy that the second of February, when we hear those words in the Gospel, was given the name “Candlemas.” It is on this day that churches sometimes bless the candles that will be used during the year.
After Simeon delivers the words we know as the Nunc Dimittis, the writer of Luke’s gospel reports that both Mary and Joseph were amazed at his words. But he wasn’t done. He then goes on bless Mary and Joseph and to tell Mary about the great disruption that her child will bring. Jesus is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel. He tells Mary and Joseph that Jesus is also destined to “be a sign that will be opposed” adding, cryptically, “so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed.” As if that isn’t enough, Simeon also prophesies to Mary that “a sword will pierce your own soul too.” The writer reporting these words of Simeon does not say what effect they have on Mary and Joseph, but they must have been worrisome and frightening. Simeon has, in a few short lines, prophesied the life of Jesus, as well as his death and the pain it will bring Mary.
This Presentation of Jesus in the temple is the first public appearance of God’s manifestation in human form. Prophets have foretold it, angels have prepared the way, Mary has given birth to him, shepherds and wise men have witnessed him and now here he is, among us humans, appearing with no great fanfare. He comes to us not surrounded by a heavenly host bursting with song, but as just another firstborn son brought by his parents to fulfill a ritual duty. Perhaps they had friends with them to celebrate, but Simeon and Anna are the only other people we hear about. Simeon was led there by the Holy Spirit, and Anna is there because she never leaves the temple.
This humble, ordinary appearance of Jesus in the temple for the first time is much the same way Jesus appears in public throughout his life and ministry.
It is the way we, too, are invited to show up in our sanctuary, as our humble, ordinary selves. It is the way we are able to receive the Holy Spirit through our worship together, through the words we speak, through the music we hear, through the bread and wine we share, through the community we are joined in. It is the way we, too, are invited to heal and be healed by one another, just as Jesus did throughout his life.
Just as we absorb the light and warmth from these candles, we also absorb the light and warmth of the Holy Spirit, the light that Jesus brought into this world. The light that we, our humble, imperfect selves, are invited to bring out into the world to lighten the burden of others, to carry that Holy Spirit into our daily lives, to friends and family, to strangers. The light that shines brightly, that warms us, that strengthens us in dark and turbulent times.
This past week brought an avalanche of events that left many of us stunned by their suddenness and harshness. We welcomed the recent words of Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde as she reminded our political leaders of the need for mercy if unity is to be achieved. Bishop Austin, in his sermon last week, reminded us that the Episcopal Church, our Diocese and our parishes do not put our faith in partisan politics. Rather, our faith is in Jesus Christ.
This Candlemas, may the light of Christ surround and strengthen those whose identities are denied by the words and actions of the past week, those whose jobs are lost by them, those whose families are broken by them, those who live in fear because of them.
And may the light of Christ bring us hope, as springtime brings us new beginnings. Amen
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