Luke 2:21-40 · Jesus Presented in the Temple
Simeon's Song
Luke 2:21-40
Sermon
by Mark Trotter
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We heard Simeon sing his song this morning not only in the gospel lesson, but in the anthem, in the beautiful and dramatic piece from Randall Thompson's, The Nativity According to St. Luke, interpreted wonderfully this morning by Ronald Banks. It is appropriately heard as a song, because Luke divides the story of the birth of Jesus into several acts, each act with dialogue, and a song, the way an opera has arias. One scene even has angels singing.

We are familiar with most of these scenes. The Annunciation to Mary: the angel comes to Mary, tells her she is going to have a baby. Mary sings, "I am the handmaid of the Lord. Let it be to me according to your word." Then Mary visits Elizabeth, and sings the great aria, the Magnificat, "My soul doth magnify the Lord for he has exalted the low estate of his handmaiden." Then the shepherds are visited by the angels. The angels sing, "Glory to God in the highest." Then the Nativity, the birth itself, and all is quiet. Not a word is spoken. Mary ponders all of this in her heart.

Then the last scene, our text for this morning, the Sunday after Christmas, the concluding scene in Luke's drama, the visit to the Temple. The final song is sung by Simeon. It is called the Nunc Dimittis, after the Latin text in the Vulgate, "Now let thy servant depart in peace; for mine eyes have seen thy salvation."

It is an appropriate conclusion to the story of the birth of Jesus. The holy family comes to the Temple for a Jewish ritual, providing the evidence that Mary and Joseph were a devout religious family, and they intend to raise their son in the faith.

I want to add a footnote here to point out most of the families, the great majority of families, in this world would observe some similar ritual. It is always a shock to many sophisticated, educated Americans and Europeans, those of us who have been educated in the Enlightenment tradition, that there are so many people in the world who are still religious. We have been taught that belief is a matter of the intellect and, therefore, it is subject always to reason, to investigation, to logic and to evidence. But to most of the world's peoples, no matter what their religion is, the goal of their life is not mastering the world technologically or intellectually, but being at home in this world, experiencing a harmony with all things in this world, and feeling a unity with the Creator of this world. The means of doing that in all the world's religions is ritual and sacrament. It is done by these people as a matter of custom, a part of the very fabric of their lives. Ritual and sacrament illumine especially those special moments of life, such as the birth of a child.

That is why Mary and Joseph take the baby Jesus to the Temple. Like most of the people of the world, they acknowledge the mystery that surrounds and undergirds all of life, especially in the gift of a baby.

Luke wants us to see something else here. You have to pay attention to the details in Luke's story, because they reveal so much. He says, "they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law, a pair of turtledoves, or two young pigeons." That is true. Actually several options were stated in the Law. The first, and the standard option for a sacrifice in the Temple, was a lamb. But very few people could afford to buy a lamb. So other animals were made available for the poor, and at the bottom of the list were pigeons and turtledoves.

Luke want us to know that Mary and Joseph are simple, poor folk. It is an astonishing revelation that their baby would be the Messiah, the Savior of the World, the King of kings. People with those titles did not come from the common folk. They were born into royalty, or into aristocracy. There was no log cabin myth of leadership in those days. Leaders, important people, rulers, all came from the upper five percent of the society, who were called the aristocracy. No child born into the great mass of the ninety-five percent of the people could ever break through that ceiling into a position of leadership.

It is interesting to note that Luke says John the Baptist was the son of Zechariah and Elizabeth. Zechariah was a priest in the Temple. That meant that he was in that five percent of the aristocracy. His wife, Elizabeth, was the daughter of a priest. So they were both from the aristocracy. They had the right credentials to produce a nationally prominent figure like John the Baptist. He had the credentials and, therefore, the credibility to be a leader. But Mary and Joseph do not come from that stratum of society. The birth story reveals that they were among the poor. So when Jesus was born among us, he was born into the great sea of humanity. Not to aristocracy, but to simple folk, pious and religious, for whom life is pretty much a day to day struggle.

They go into the Temple. Simeon is there. He is an old man, looking for the Messiah. He is at the Temple because one of the prophecies, this one in Malachi, says that when the Messiah comes, he will "suddenly come to his Temple." So if you want to see the Messiah, then your best bet is to hang around the Temple, because that is probably where the Messiah is going to show up.

Old Simeon has been there for years. Every morning now for years, he has gotten up, had his bagel and coffee, and gone to work at the Temple. He has the right credentials, according to Luke. Luke says that he is both "righteous and devout." You can't get any better in the Jewish faith than being righteous and devout. He is also faithful in his vocation as a "Messiah-watcher." He never misses. He is there every day. He is righteous. He is devout. He is faithful. He has the credentials to spot the Messiah when he shows up.

Here's what happens. Simeon's hanging out at the Temple. Mary, Joseph, the baby, come to the Temple. Only Simeon's not looking for a baby. Simeon is looking for some handsome warrior on a horse, or for someone coming on a cloud. But he is strangely drawn to this baby. Mary holds him. He goes over to Mary, and says, "Let me see the baby." Can you imagine Mary's anxiety? This strange old man asking to see her baby. Simeon holds the baby, looks into his face, and smiles. The baby looks back at this craggy, old wrinkled face, frowns at first, then smiles. I think that is when Simeon sings, "Lord, let now thy servant depart in peace; for mine eyes have seen they salvation."

Simeon, the expert witness, declares that this is it. This is the one we have been waiting for. He is here. The Messiah has come, "So let now thy servant depart in peace." That is called the Canticle, the song of thanksgiving. But Simeon isn't finished. Not only is there a canticle, there is an oracle. The oracle is the prophecy, "This child is set for the rise and fall of many." Then he turns to Mary with these terrible words, "And a sword shall pierce your soul also."

That is our text. What are we to make of it? Simeon is obviously there as corroboration. He is the expert witness to provide the essential testimony that this is the Messiah. He is a good witness. He is a righteous and devout Jew, who spent all of his life looking for the Messiah. Witnesses don't come any better than that. So if you are Jewish, and you need convincing by evidence of a righteous and devout Jew that this is the Messiah, then that is what Simeon is there for.

But for the rest of us, Simeon has another reason for being there, because Simeon announces that there has been a change in plan. Instead of the Messiah coming suddenly, ushering in a whole new age where all of a sudden everything is perfect, things are going to be pretty much the same as they have always been. At least it will look that way.

You probably already noticed that. Many of you woke up December 26, the day after Christmas, and had to go back to work. The world wasn't perfect after all. You woke up on December 26, and the pain was still there. The miracle didn't happen. I read the newspapers the day after Christmas, same old stuff. Nothing had really changed.

So what Christmas revealed was a change of plan. Instead of sweeping everything aside, like in the Flood, and starting over again, or instead of taking charge by force and banging some heads together, which is what almost everybody expected in Jesus' time to happen when the Messiah came, or instead of "knocking the mighty from their thrones, exalting those of low degree," which is what Mary expected in the Magnificat, God has chosen another way to change the world, the way of love.

Simeon is the first to see that. He must have realized it the moment he saw this baby. Whoa, there has been a change in plan. Simeon was expecting a warrior, on a horse, or on a cloud, taking the place by storm, "suddenly coming to his Temple." Look who has come to the Temple. It's just a baby. God is going to change the world with love, not with force. "God so love the world that he sent his son, not to condemn the world, but that the world through him might be saved." That is the first thing that Simeon tells us. There has been a change in plan. The world is going to be won over by love.

The second thing that he reveals is, it is not going to be easy. Eventually God will win. Eventually the Kingdom will come. But not all of a sudden. That's the easy way. Many people expect that. They look for the second coming of Jesus to be a sudden coming, and all of a sudden everything is changed. They want to make sure they get on the right side, have a safe place to observe all the fireworks. A lot of people think that is the way it is going to happen, with a lot of fireworks.

Simeon says, look at this helpless baby. He is so fragile, so vulnerable. So Simeon says, if you are looking for fireworks, don't count on it, because there has been a change here. It is going to take a while, and it is going to cost something. That is the meaning of Simeon's oracle, "This baby is for the rise and the fall of many." And, the terrible prediction to Mary, "A sword is going to pierce your soul also." It is going to cost something. And it turned out that it would cost not only Mary, but anyone who suffered because of the gospel.

The world is different because of Jesus. I believe that. I believe that it will continue to get better because of Jesus. But it hasn't been easy. And it won't be easy from here on. Because there is always resistance. If somebody is expected to change, there is resistance. You ask somebody to change their life, and they will probably resist you. You ask somebody to give something, or to give up something, there will be resistance. So it is not going to be easy.

David Mazel, a Jewish writer, said that one day his rabbi asked him how things were going. He said, "OK, but it wouldn't hurt if they got a little better." The rabbi said, "How do you know it wouldn't hurt?" That is what Simeon is saying. Things are going to get better, but it is not going to be easy. It is going to cost somebody something, beginning with this child. It is going to cost the baby something. Then his mother. And then those who follow him.

I think that is why Anna is there in this story. You almost miss Anna. Skip right over her. She is not necessary for the plot. Simeon is sufficient to finish the story. Simeon is the one who sings the beautiful song announcing that the Messiah has come. Anna is there to add a silent testimony. She, like Simeon, is very old. She is probably older than Simeon, as a matter of fact. You could say these two people staying there at the Temple every day are the "odd couple." They are there every day looking for the Messiah. There is enough information about Anna in the text to calculate what her age might be. We know how long she was married. We know how long she was a widow. If you factor in to that her probable age when she was married, she is 109, or 110 years old. She has been around a long time. She has authority, credentials, only hers are different than Simeon's. She is a woman, so she probably would not have been trained in the scriptures the way Simeon would have been. Her expertise comes from life. She is a widow. In those day that designated a sociological class. To be a widow in those days was synonymous with being poor and oppressed.

You will remember that Jesus made widows the subject of two of his teachings, at least. In the Temple he told his disciples to watch that widow put her offering in the treasury. He said she gave her all. That is held up as an example for us. That scene added a phrase to the English language, "the widow's mite," but it is also gave a glimpse into the reality of first century life. To be a widow meant to be poor.

Then Jesus told the parable of the "Importunate Widow," the woman, you will remember, who banged on the door of the judge, demanding that he pay attention to her and give her justice, thus providing us with another example of life in the first century, that widows were often cheated, taken advantage of and exploited.

Anna is a widow. She has been a widow for eighty-four years. That is Luke's way of saying, she's been around the block. She already knows life isn't easy. She has already known suffering, injustice, and oppression in her life. So when Anna says, "This is the one, this baby is the Messiah," it means something. Anna is there to represent survivors. Those for whom the news never changes, they know Christmas isn't going to remove their problems. They know that they are just going to have to keep on going. They know that life is going to continue to be pretty much the same. So when Anna, the survivor, says, "This is what I have been waiting for, this is the fulfillment of my life," it means something. We are supposed to pay attention.

In a recent play a woman says this:

You work hard at your job, you try to keep the home together, you perform your duties as best you can because you believe in responsibility, obligation and good order. Then suddenly you realize that hair cracks are appearing everywhere. Control is slipping away. The whole thing is so fragile it probably can't be held together much longer. It's all about to collapse.

"Hair cracks appearing everywhere." That is the world most of us live in. It's not going to change. The memory of unfaithfulness in the past. The knowledge that the children have wandered away from the life you wanted them to live, and there is nothing you can do about it. You want to intervene, but you can't do that. A job that is no longer fulfilling. In fact, it is not even the same job anymore, but there is nothing you can do about it. Not now. Not in these days. You better not try to do something about it in these days. And the emptiness that sorrow digs. It is always there. "Hair cracks everywhere."

What this text says to us this Sunday after Christmas is, the Messiah has come into that kind of a world, and this is it. The witnesses have testified to it. This is it. There will be no more Messiahs. No Messiah is going to rush in and solve all your problems for you. No one on a white horse. No one is coming on a cloud to bring to you a perfect world. It's not going to happen. And old Simeon, he's gone now, too. He's "departed in peace." But the text says Anna is still there. She's going around telling everybody, "This is what I have been waiting for. He is what I have been waiting for."

If Anna says it, then what it means is that the world doesn't have to be perfect for me to find salvation. It doesn't have to be perfect for me to experience what Christmas is saying about the peace and joy that can come to our lives. I can still know those things, even though my life isn't perfect. I can still be whole, even though my life has cracks in it.

You know the old hymn, "It Came upon the Midnight Clear"? There is a wonderful verse in it, and it fits this text perfectly. Anna doesn't have a song in the Nativity drama. She is just there. Simeon is the one who has the song. But this could be Anna's song.

And ye, beneath life's crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow,

Look now! for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing.
O rest beside the weary road,
And hear the angels sing!

ChristianGlobe Networks, Inc., Collected Sermons, by Mark Trotter