Presentation

Almighty and everliving God, we humbly pray that, as your only-begotten Son was this day presented in the temple, so we may be presented to you with pure and clean hearts by Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Today we celebrate a feast that bears a variety of titles: The Presentation of Christ in the Temple, commonly called The Purification of Saint Mary the Virgin, aka Candlemas - or in Spanish, Candelaria, and also known as The Meeting, as in the meeting of Simeon and Anna with Jesus.

All these titles have meaning, all converge on this day, the feast at the beginning of February, forty days after the Nativity. And on this day, both the day of the parish annual meeting, and of considerable turmoil in our society, there is much to learn from each title.

The Purification:

As Leviticus 12 provides, a mother giving birth is ritually impure and “shall not touch any holy thing or come into the sanctuary until the days of her purification are completed” - in the case of a male child, forty days after she bears her son. Then she shall make an offering at the Temple, including a lamb, or, “If she cannot afford a sheep, she shall take two turtledoves or two pigeons, one for a burnt offering and the other for a purification offering, and the priest shall make atonement on her behalf, and she shall be clean.” 

[“A person in a state of impurity is not allowed to touch holy objects, enter the Temple precincts, partake of sacred foods, or (in the case of a menstruating woman, a woman after childbirth, or a woman with a flux of blood) have marital contact.” ODJR 350] 

In accordance with the law, Mary makes a sacrifice so that she is cleansed from the state of ritual impurity that comes as a result of childbirth. Now she will again be able to participate in the full ceremonial life of her community.

None of this implies sin, just ritual impurity. The point is that she, and Joseph, are completing the fulfillment of the law, as in this as in all things, they are faithful people. Throughout his life, this child, Jesus, fulfills the law, and fulfills the expectation of humanity and the promise of God.

The Presentation:

In presenting her firstborn son to the Lord, Joseph and Mary fulfill the law as laid out in the book of Exodus. 

“Consecrate to me all the firstborn; whatever is the first to open the womb among the Israelites, of human beings and animals, is mine.” (13:2)

“The firstborn of your sons you shall give to me.” (22:29b)

Again the gospel makes the point that in all things Jesus is the fulfillment of the law. 

He is also the fulfillment of promise, and the promise of future fulfillment. 

Anna the prophet “began to praise God and to speak about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem,” – looking for a Savior, the Messiah, to free them from the oppression of sin and the fear of death.

The Meeting: 

And Simeon, “righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel,” saw in this child what he had been looking for, even living for. And he took the child into his arms and said a prayer of praise and blessing. 

Anna and Simeon welcomed the child and offered God their blessings and praise. But in their prophetic words was not only hope but a warning. 

A savior for all is not welcomed by some. Having sung his Nunc dimittis, his song of blessing and farewell, Simeon goes on to say to Mary, “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed – and a sword will pierce your own soul too.” 

It will become personal. It may touch you directly. And that is a warning we ourselves may take to heart as well. 

Candlemas/Candelaria:

Over the centuries of the Church, a tradition has formed, to enter the sanctuary in procession on this festival day carrying candles newly blessed, and singing a song - the Nunc dimittis. We bless the candles in worship this Candlemas, this Candelaria, for use throughout the year. These little lights of thine and mine sing out the glory of the Lord, the light of Christ. 

In him appeared life and this life was the light of humankind. The light still shines in the darkness and the darkness has never put it out. (John 1:3-5)

As we bear forth this light into the world we bring with us the good news of the redemption of the world through Christ. And we carry with us the joy and the warning of the prophets. 

[“The messenger of the covenant in whom you delight-- indeed, he is coming, says the Lord of hosts. But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears? For he is like a refiner's fire …”]

We may be called upon to bear uncomfortable witness. In our calling to bear his light into the world, we may ourselves encounter darkness, despair, and fear. But we are not alone, and we are not the first. We follow our Savior’s footsteps.

When Simeon gave his blessing to the Holy Family, I wonder what he said to them. The words most appropriate might well have been these, which the child grown to adulthood said to his own chosen family, his disciples:  

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for yours is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are you that mourn, for you shall be comforted.

“Blessed are the meek, for you shall inherit the earth.

“Blessed are you that hunger and thirst after righteousness, for you shall receive fullness.

“Blessed are the merciful, for you shall receive mercy.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for you shall see God.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for you shall be called children of God.

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for yours is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you." 

• Matthew 5:1-12

• Malachi 3:1-4
• Hebrews 2:14-18
• Luke 2:22-40
• Psalm 84
• or Psalm 24:7-10

tamales and menudo

Tamales and Menudo: (traditionally) what to bring to the party on Candelaria. Candlemas. That is, the feast of the presentation. That is, today.

In the story of Anna and Simeon, of Joseph and Mary and the baby, we see observance of the Levitical law that a woman, having given birth, brings her child to the temple and there enacts a ritual of purification.

Not moral purification, simply the laws allowing her to recover from the birth and retake her place in the worshiping community. 

Many life events required ritual purification: even childbirth, however wonderful and beneficial, painful, dangerous, and joyful that childbirth could be, called for this ritual.

The end of it was indeed a celebration: the return of the mother  to society after weeks of isolation, with her health hopefully restored, and her child, by now getting used to life outside the womb among us, welcomed too. 

And there beside them, was Joseph, almost an angel, protecting, covering, comforting, accompanying.

And there to greet them were a faithful widow, the prophet Anna, who had been at the temple many years, and Simeon, a devout and righteous man, who had been anticipating, awaiting this day.

A child is born, a mother is returned to health. And yet more was happening this time, for this time, the child was Jesus. 

Hail thou long expected Jesus: as Joshua your namesake who led the people into the land of promise, Jesus lead us into the future of promise now becoming real. Hail thou long expected Jesus, come to set your people free.

What Simeon saw and Anna praised was the hand of God at work, bringing to his people peace: peace, not as the world expected it and not a magical transformation, but the simple peace of knowing and loving God in each other and ourselves. 

The temple where they awaited the savior was only a waiting place. Now they had to find the holiness they sought in the presence of God within each other and themselves.

In obedience to the law of love came the fulfillment of the promise.

The kingdom of heaven is like this: parents bring a child to the temple, where they are welcomed.

The kingdom of heaven is like this: fulfilling the role of the law brought them the savior who freed them for love.

It’s just a little child. A boy, in this case, circumcised and named eight days after his birth, and his mother, purified 33 days later.

If you do the math, that's eight days from December 25 to January 1 and 33 days from January 1 to February 2, fitting our worship calendar.

Nowadays, we don’t enact a ritual of purification as in the old days. The old prayers were for the churching of women after childbirth. Now we pray a prayer of Thanksgiving for the birth of a child. Now we add to the prayers our joy.  

The joy the parents felt that day in the temple all parents should feel, as well as the dread and anticipation of sorrow that will pierce our own souls too. 

We yearn for the transcendent joy that comes knowing God has come to us, bringing no ordinary deliverance or transitory kingdom, but the eternal reign of grace, of hope, of love, of peace.

  

But what does that look like today of all days, this year of all years?

A kingdom of peace? A reward for patient faithfulness?

I don’t want to wait until I am 84 years old. I don’t want to work for 80 years. People have, people do.

The kingdom of heaven is upon us already, but not yet, and the waiting and the working, the soul-searching patience, and the steadfast love that we await from God seems far away, and not close at hand, especially on some despairing days. 

We do see things of hope go away, but we also see what has always been faithful service continuing. 

Funding for social service can be fickle, from government or private sources. Casa Alitas has shut down. But we see that each day, each week, Samaritans venture into the desert looking for the lost. That is one example of continuing steadfast, faithfulness.

Faithfulness endures. Some years ago in another country in difficult times more difficult than ours. A man said to his friends that what is left at the ultimate moment is to pray and do what is right.

If we are that simple and that humble, we are on the right track.

Prayer sustains us, keeps us connected to what matters. And without fanfare, sometimes but rarely we can see far ahead, but usually we do know the next right thing to do, and by doing that, we move forward.

The promise of ages that Mary and Joseph and Simeon and Anna held in their arms was fragile. A promise just coming into being, but a promise beginning something wonderful – and how does it end? In a scene beyond dreams: when that child, enthroned in glory, will say:

To the people who simply prayed and did the next right thing:

I was hungry and you fed me. I was thirsty and you gave me a drink. I was naked and you clothed me. I was imprisoned and you visited me. I was sick and you visited me. I was captive in my heart and you made my soul free.

Let us in dark days or happy times not lose the heart for joy or the patient faithfulness that is not ours to accomplish but a gift to receive.

Now, Lord: the fulfillment of the promise, let it begin, with me. Amen.

Christ the King Episcopal Church, Tucson. 
Saturday 1 February 2025 6pm and Sunday 2 February 8 & 10:30am.

https://ctktucson.org/sermons/tamales-and-menudo/

https://www.youtube.com/live/VfO8G-gdIEk?feature=shared

• Malachi 3:1-4
• Hebrews 2:14-18
• Luke 2:22-40
• Psalm 84

From A Service of Prayer for the Nation, January 21, 2025, 
The Cathedral Church of Saint Peter & Saint Paul:

Prayers for Our Common Life

Grant, O God, that your holy and life-giving Spirit may so move every human heart and especially

the hearts of the people of this land, that barriers which divide us may crumble, suspicions disappear,

and hatreds cease; that our divisions being healed, we may live in justice and peace; through Jesus

Christ our Lord.

People Amen.

O God, you have bound us together in a common life. Help us, in the midst of our struggles for

justice and truth, to confront one another without hatred or bitterness, and to work together with

mutual forbearance and respect; through Jesus Christ our Lord.

People Amen.

A Prayer for the Nation

Almighty God,

you have given us this good land as our heritage.

Make us always remember your generosity

and constantly do your will.

Bless our land with honest industry, sound learning,

and an honorable way of life.

Save us from violence, discord, and confusion;

from pride and arrogance, and from every evil way.

Make us who come from many nations

with many different languages a united people.

Defend our liberties and give those whom we have entrusted

with the authority of government the spirit of wisdom,

that there might be justice and peace in our land.

When times are prosperous, let our hearts be thankful;

and, in troubled times, do not let our trust in you fail.

We ask all this through Jesus Christ our Lord.

People Amen.

https://cathedral.org/calendar/a-service-of-prayer-for-the-nation/

https://www.youtube.com/live/PhHE8fvf92M 

Here is George L. Kline’s translation of the poem, from Joseph Brodsky, A Part of Speech (NY: Noonday, 1996), pp. 55-7:

‘Nunc Dimittis’

When Mary first came to present the Christ Child

to God in His temple, she found—of those few

who fasted and prayed there, departing not from it—

devout Simeon and the prophetess Anna.

The holy man took the Babe up in his arms.

The three of them, lost in the grayness of dawn,

now stood like a small shifting frame that surrounded

the Child in the palpable dark of the temple.

The temple enclosed them in forests of stone.

Its lofty vaults stooped as though trying to cloak

the prophetess Anna, and Simeon, and Mary—

to hide them from men and to hide them from Heaven.

And only a chance ray of light struck the hair

of that sleeping Infant, who stirred but as yet

was conscious of nothing and blew drowsy bubbles;

old Simeon's arms held him like a stout cradle.

It had been revealed to this upright old man

that he would not die until his eyes had seen

the Son of the Lord. And it thus came to pass. And

he said: ‘Now, O Lord, lettest thou thy poor servant,

according to thy holy word, leave in peace,

for mine eyes have witnessed thine offspring: he is

thy continuation and also the source of

thy Light for idolatrous tribes, and the glory

of Israel as well.' The old Simeon paused.

The silence, regaining the temple's clear space

oozed from all its corners and almost engulfed them,

and only his echoing words grazed the rafters,

to spin for a moment, with faint rustling sounds,

high over their heads in the tall temple's vaults,

akin to a bird that can soar, yet that cannot

return to the earth, even if it should want to.

A strangeness engulfed them. The silence now seemed

as strange as the words of old Simeon's speech.

And Mary, confused and bewildered, said nothing—

so strange had his words been. He added, while turning

directly to Mary: ‘Behold, in this Child,

now close to thy breast, is concealed the great fall

of many, the great elevation of others,

a subject of strife and a source of dissension,

and that very steel which will torture his flesh

shall pierce through thine own soul as well. And that wound

will show to thee, Mary, as in a new vision

what lies hidden, deep in the hearts of all people.’

He ended and moved toward the temple's great door.

Old Anna, bent down with the weight of her years,

and Mary, now stooping gazed after him, silent.

He moved and grew smaller, in size and in meaning,

to these two frail women who stood in the gloom.

As though driven on by the force of their looks,

he strode through the cold empty space of the temple

and moved toward the whitening blur of the doorway.

The stride of his old legs was steady and firm.

When Anna's voice sounded behind him, he slowed

his step for a moment. But she was not calling

to him; she had started to bless God and praise Him.

The door came still closer. The wind stirred his robe

and fanned at his forehead; the roar of the street,

exploding in life by the door of the temple,

beat stubbornly into old Simeon's hearing.

He went forth to die. It was not the loud din

of streets that he faced when he flung the door wide,

but rather the deaf-and-dumb fields of death's kingdom.

He strode through a space that was no longer solid.

The rustle of time ebbed away in his ears.

And Simeon's soul held the form of the Child—

its feathery crown now enveloped in glory—

aloft, like a torch, pressing back the black shadows,

to light up the path that leads into death's realm,

where never before until this present hour

had any man managed to lighten his pathway.

The old man's torch glowed and the pathway grew wider.

https://logismoitouaaron.blogspot.com/2009/02/nunc-dimittis.html

Tuesday in Holy Week

Isaiah 49:1-7, 1 Corinthians 1:18-31, John 12:20-36, Psalm 71:1-1, Tuesday in Holy Week 2020.

In the name of God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Breath. Amen.

A Light to enlighten the nations, *
    and the glory of your people Israel.
  

(Nunc Dimittis, Luke 2.32)

Jesus offers himself in full obedience to the Father, offering not his death only, but his full obedience, that of his whole life. And he offers himself to be 'lifted up' on the cross so as to draw all people to him, and thence to God. He is the light of the world, even on this darkest day. And in this hour, when all seems lost, all are found.

This, when the world sees only loss, is when God brings all to himself. 

Yes, it is a strange mystery. How can it be that one who is crucified, the ignominious fate of traitor thief and insurrectionary, tortured by soldiers and mocked while his very undergarment is gambled away, be the savior and the light of the world? And yet he is. He is. Even there, even then. 

And I think a key to the mystery is in that word obedience. In some theological terms what sets the Son apart in the Trinity is this trait: obediential efficacy. While the Father is creative and the Breath is conceptually efficacious, it is the Son who in perfect obedience leads the way for us to paradise: that is, to our right place in God.

Another theological term here is donative, self-giving, related to kenosis, self-emptying. It is in his giving that we receive... life.