Posted in musings

for the feast of the presentation of the lord

Now there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon, and this man was righteous and devout, looking for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. And it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he should not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ. – Luke 2:25-26

I wonder what it would have been like to live with that promise: to wake up each day to the brokenness of the world; to witness sin and sorrow and suffering and still not see the promised Savior; to wonder, in the back of his mind, if he’d actually received the promise from God. I imagine it would be a fiercely held hope, a belief clung to with claw-like fingers in the face of all the opposition doubt and despair could dredge up.

And because he had clung so fiercely to the promise, when the time came for it to be fulfilled, Simeon was ready: ready to drop whatever else he was doing, ready to act in faith without the choking chains of fear, ready to claim that which the God he knew to be faithful had promised him.

And inspired by the Spirit he came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him according to the custom of the law, he took him up in his arms and blessed God. – Luke 2:27-28

I can just see him, standing the temple, watching the people drift in and out, surrounded by the sounds and smells of worship and sacrifice, wondering with each family his eyes passed over, “Where is he? Where is the coming Messiah?” And oh, the joy, the almost paralyzing thrill of of undeserved, unparalleled, ecstatic knowledge! For here was the child. Here was the fulfillment of the promise. However long and winding the journey of salvation, Simeon was content knowing he had seen this moment, knowing he had beheld with his own eyes the promised Redeemer of the world.

As we sing each night in the liturgy, remembering Simeon’s faith and the hope that Jesus brings,

Lord, now you let your servant go in peace;
your word has been fulfilled:
my own eyes have seen the salvation
which you have prepared in the sight of every people:
a light to reveal you to the nations
and the glory of your people Israel.
Posted in musings

on Mary

“And Mary said,
‘My soul magnifies the Lord,
‘And my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
‘For He has regarded the low estate of His handmaiden.
‘For behold, henceforth all generations will call me blessed.'”
– Luke 1:46-48

“And Simeon blessed them and said to Mary His mother,
‘…a sword will pierce through your own soul also…'”
– Luke 2:34-35

It’s an interesting juxtaposition. In the first passage, Mary has just arrived at her cousin Elizabeth’s house, and Elizabeth has just proclaimed upon seeing her (and upon feeling the unborn John leap for joy)┬áthat Mary is blessed among women. In response, Mary enters into what is known as the Magnificat, praising God for His work in her life and in the world through the coming Messiah. She has been chosen for an incredible and unique role in God’s plan of redemption, and is realizing how blessed she is.

In the second, Mary and Joseph have taken Jesus to the temple for his ritual purification/dedication, and Simeon in the Spirit greets them with rejoicing and prophesying. And in the midst of his praise for the Messiah who is finally come, in the midst of his joy, he comments to Mary that her position as Jesus’s mother will bring her great pain and sorrow.

The two – the blessing and the sorrow – are far from mutually exclusive. They are intertwined, twin fruits of one tree. In entering into God’s redemptive plan, in taking up the role He has offered her, Mary receives both the blessings and the sorrows that come with it. She is given power, responsibility, purpose and calling, and the joy of knowing God so deeply and intimately as Jesus’s mother; she has to endure the scorn of those who think she has become pregnant illegitimately, and the greater pain of watching her people reject their Messiah and murder her son. Because the world is broken, because we are scarred and stained by sin, even the highest calling and the most blessed person will experience pain and suffering; because God is entering into that brokenness to redeem and renew all things, even the deepest pain and the greatest sorrow can be woven into the beauty and joy of His plan.