Sermon - February 2, 2008: The Presentation of Our Lord

Pastor Heisley

“If Candlemas be fair and bright
Come, Winter have another fight.
If Candlemas brings cloud and rain,
Go, Winter, and come not again.”

This traditional English verse reminds us of the mixture of traditions that enfold us and our worship this evening. There is the tradition of learning whether winter will soon end or will be extended as we sit dead center in the season according to the calendar. 

This tradition was translated at some point into paying attention to a rodent, played by a variety of groundhogs over the last century in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. Now there is a competing tradition, another rodent somewhere in the southern U. S., that almost every year contradicts what Phil the Pennsylvanian has taught. Somehow, somehow, all of these traditions are connected to several deeper ones, several important ones. 

Candlemas, for instance. In the 7th century Pope Sergius I authorized a procession on this day. Hundreds of years later, candles were blessed for use throughout the year on this day. Just before the parish mass every parishioner was obliged to carry a blessed candle to the priest and give it and a penny to the him. The presentation of candles. 

This presentation might have been a dim corporate reflection of what happened in the temple in Jerusalem in Jesus’ time. It was expected that every firstborn child would be consecrated to the Lord and then five shekels would be paid by the parents to redeem, to buy back the child from the priests in the temple. 

Jesus was presented in the temple. Light was carried into the darkness of decaying faith. And the light, bought back with the five-shekel offering of a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons redeemed the King of the universe for the salvation of the world. Tradition. 

Mary and Joseph faithfully carried out the traditions of their people, the Jews, God’s people. They brought Jesus as an offering and they gave heaven and earth their future. They gave us hope. 

Tradition is where we live. We have processions and sing hymns and follow the traditions of the Bible and the church as they have been given to us so that we can be filled with the goodness of God’s presence. Not tossed about by current whim, not challenged to find meaning in the meaningless, truth in fiction. We have a great depth of tradition that is reinterpreted in every generation so that we might see the light. 

When people learn my personal history, when they learn that I was raised in the Evangelical United Brethren Church, they ask how I became a Lutheran. I usually say, “I saw the light!” And in a sense that is true. I saw the light that is shone to each of us through the bright and shining hope that is the church. We are able to see the light because of our tradition. 

But tradition doesn’t save. Tradition doesn’t set us on a path. It is only a strong link to the truths of the ages. Tradition anchors our lives in Christ. 

This evening we began with a procession. Tradition. But also, movement. Movement with light. Movement with joyful singing. Movement into the next moments of our lives. This is not thoughtless or empty action. It is precisely an anchor in tradition and a powerful launch into the future. Moment by moment we carry the light of Christ today presented in the temple for all time and all places to see. Moment by moment we carry the light in our lives, in our eyes, in our hearts, in our hands, so that the dark hopelessness, emptiness, brokenness, of this world might become meaningless. What is old and true becomes new and true, moment-by-moment. 

Simeon and Anna stand as examples for us. It had been revealed to Simeon that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. There, that day, in the temple, Simeon took the child Jesus in his arms and praised God, praised God, saying, “Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word.” Fulfillment. Simeon’s life, his hope, his dreams were fulfilled. He held Messiah in his arms and now he could die. At last. 

I was reminded of this 13 days ago when my internship supervisor died in Pittsburgh. Back in 1978 when I was his student he often said that he couldn’t wait to die, to go and live with God in glory. He was that confident that the future would be wonderful. Simeon praised God in the same way and Mary and Joseph were amazed. 

Anna, a prophet, was there, too. She was old. She lived in the temple, fasting and praying morning, noon, and night. But for her it was different. Not fulfillment. Freedom. Freedom to sing and preach. Freedom to live. When she saw the child Jesus, when she saw the light, she began to praise God and to tell anyone who was hoping for salvation that it was here. And it was called Jesus. She had seen the light. 

These traditions, fulfillment and gratitude, a peaceful letting go and renewed engagement with the world, these are characteristics of the path that we are called to follow into the future. Like Simeon we are not to fear death. Its darkness will not overcome us. In the light of Christ, we see that we are ready. 

And like Anna we are to go about our lives in joy and happy busyness. Making not only our day-by-day living into acts of praise and thanksgiving, but also drawing others to see the light that we see. 

Tradition is powerful and tradition points us into our future in Jesus. As he is presented in the temple, he is presented in our lives. As he is presented in the temple, he is presented in the future. It is there that we see him, shining with the light of all creation, light that cannot fade. Light that says, “Come and walk with me.” It’s our tradition. Amen

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