To Enlighten the Nations (Candlemas)

He Qi, The Presentation in the Temple

To Enlighten the Nations
Homily delivered on the Solemnity of the Presentation of Christ

(Candlemas)

The Rev. Fr. Tony Hutchinson, SCP, Ph.D.
2 February 2020; 9:00 a.m. Sung Mass before Parish Meeting
Parish Church of Trinity, Ashland (Oregon)
Readings:  Malachi 3:1-4 ; Hebrews 2:14-18 ; Luke 2:22-40 ; Psalm 84

God, give us hearts to feel and love,

take away our hearts of stone
 and give us hearts of flesh. Amen.

This morning, I woke to a particularly hopeless nightmare.  And no, I am not talking about Brexit or the acquittal of the President.  It was a real nightmare: In it, I was celebrating Eucharist in a Church that looked like Trinity, but not quite, having bits and pieces from various churches I have worshiped in over the decades.  I was going to read the Gospel because Deacon Meredith was off doing a children’s liturgy.  But things had not been set up quite right, and instead of a Gospel Book, it was some random service book dolled up to look like a Gospel.  I couldn’t find the text, something from John 5, but I didn’t know exactly which passage because I couldn’t find the text. 

I looked out in desperation and asked for a bulletin from which to read the Gospel.  But as I did so, I realized the congregation members were not people I knew at Trinity—they were all strangers, every single one.  And the first bulletin I was handed was from weeks before and had the wrong Gospel.  The next wasn’t even a bulletin—it was some tract from a religious sect.  As I struggled and the dead silence grew, I got more and more panicked as I looked and threw away bulletin after bulletin, wrong gospel after wrong gospel.  Meredith showed up at the door, and brought me a proper Gospel book, but it was stuck together and I couldn’t open it.  As I realized that no one in the pews had ever opened a bulletin or followed it, and had no idea why I was holding things up, a loud whisper came from a nearby pew:  “Just sit down and let us get on with the service!”  For that guy, at least, it didn’t matter that we couldn’t find the right Gospel or read it.   I woke up sweating, in turmoil, and very, very frustrated.

Here’s a little secret:  clergy often have anxiety dreams.  And they often involve failed liturgy.  Deacon Meredith told me just last week of one she had had.  

Today, February 2, is 40 days from December 25.   In strict Jewish Law, a woman goes into semi-seclusion for 40 days after giving birth to a son.  It is thus today that we celebrate the coming of Mary and Joseph with the baby Jesus to offer sacrifice at the Temple at Jerusalem.   There, the elderly Simeon and the prophet Anna welcome them and express joy at Jesus’ coming.  They have been “awaiting the Consolation of Israel,” the moment God would act to set all things right.  They recognize in this baby the great light, the fire of the Day of the Lord that would burn away all that was wrong with the world.  Simeon bursts out into a song of gratitude: “Thank God, now I can die in peace!”  It is the Nunc Dimittis that we sang at the start of the procession and that we read in the Gospel.

This day is seen as the end of the Christmas season, though the great light continues to shine and Epiphany themes last until Lent.  Called Candlemas, it is marked in the Church with a candle-lit procession celebrating that light, with the blessing of the candles, oils, and wicks to be used in Church in the coming year, and candles brought in by parishioners for use in their homes. Included among the candles to be blessed is the year’s Pascal Candle, to be lit at the Great Vigil of Easter and then used in all baptisms and funerals. 

 

The scriptures that we use today for this feast all emphasize the coming of the “Day of the Lord” with light and fire:   Malachi says that Yahweh’s messenger will come “suddenly to his Temple,” and burn out, drive out, pollution of the Temple ministers so that the offerings they present may be pure.  Traditionally, Christians have seen this as a prophecy of Christ’s incarnation, including his driving the money-changers from the Temple, and setting up a priesthood offering the bloodless and pure sacrifice of the Eucharist, a re-presenting of what Christ did for us, and does for us.

The Hebrews passage ties in with this, since it describes Jesus’s life work in images taken from the Temple system of burnt offerings.  He is described as the Great High Priest presenting in the Heavenly Temple, once for all, a sacrificial offering to remove sin guilt.   He is thus seen as superior to Jewish Temple cult, which had repeated sacrifices in a temple made by human hands.  The incarnation, ministry, sufferings, death, and resurrection of Jesus are seen as what Jesus offers to God to purge away our guilt as the sacrifices of the Temple purged guilt.  But it also purges away death and our fear of death. 

It is important to remember that sacrifice here is a metaphor.  In Hebrews, Jesus presents his sacrifice to God not on the cross or in the garden, but after the Ascension—when he enters into the Holy of Holies in the Heavenly Temple.

Christ coming suddenly to his Temple is the scene we have in the Presentation of Christ to Anna and Simeon.  Christ as a baby.  As Hebrews says, Christ took on flesh and blood in order to rescue us from death.  The incarnation, God taking on human flesh and the mortality that implies, itself is saving.  Jesus’ birth, life, sufferings and death, and his glorious conquering of death are all a package.   This is one of the great theological reasons that make it hard to reduce the glorious mystery of what Christ did to merely substituted punishment in the unjust torments he suffered before his death.   There are some passages that talk about Jesus’ blood being shed to purge our guilt.  But these are only part of the picture.  For everyone of them, there are four or five that talk about Jesus’s birth or resurrection as key in God rescuing us in Jesus. 

Thinking about Simeon and Anna, Former Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams wrote, “Candlemas is a promise that Jesus will be there for those who don’t think they belong… the forgotten, the eccentrics, they people we’d rather not think about.  Jesus is the one who brings the forgotten and ignored into the circle of light.”  

I suspect that in my dream, the Gospel from John 5 was the story of the healing of the lame man in the pool of Beth-Zatha.  It was in my mind because we read it in morning prayer recently.  The man was excluded and unable to get into the healing waters because of competition from others looking out for number one.  And Jesus just heals him, just heals him, without even letting him know who he is.  Only later, when the man shares his joy with others, does Jesus seek him out and tell him.    This missing Gospel has the same message as that of Candlemas:  Jesus is there for us, and we should be there for each other.  Hopelessness and alienation come from our being absent from this great truth. 

“A light to enlighten the nations, and the glory of your people Israel.”   Jesus as light of the world lightens us, and in his light we see light.  In him, there is no darkness at all.  And that light, kindled in us, must shine out and bless those about us.  As Jesus taught in the Sermon on the Mount, “Let your light so shine that others may see your good works and glorify their Father in Heaven” and “You don’t light a lamp to hide it under a bushel basket, but to put it one a stand so that it fills the whole house with light.”  That’s where the Gospel hymn comes from:  “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine… let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.”    

But this light isn’t little.  It’s the light of God himself, and fills the whole world. 

May we follow this Light to the Nations, find hope and joy in him, and bring through our deeds of love and kindness light to those about us.    

In the name of Christ, Amen.