Sermon for the Presentation of Our Lord, February 2, 2010, Blessing of Candles, Procession & Solemn Mass, by the Reverend Stephen Gerth

Malachi 3:1-4; Psalm 84:1-6; Hebrews 2:14-18; Luke 2:22-40

The infancy narratives in Matthew and Luke are good news, not because of their usefulness as biography, but because they serve the larger purpose of proclaiming Good News about Jesus Christ.

I don’t think Luke or any of the New Testament authors could have imagined their words being read, proclaimed, 2000 years after they wrote. They were all close enough to the first generation of believers to expect the return of the Lord – the end of created time – to happen sooner than later.

Luke was writing for his world, about his world, a world where Good News came first to shepherds. The shepherds enjoyed the Good News while it is present, but then they faded away. In tonight’s gospel lesson, a prophet sees the infant and sees the wider plan of God present in this child.

More than Matthew, Mark and John, Luke is the gospel of wider vision, of larger purpose, of evangelism. In Luke, all who “hear the word of God and do it” and brother and mother to Jesus,[1] not just the descendents of Abraham, but all people.

Mark’s Jesus can hardly bring himself to speak of those who are not of the house of Israel, much less of a mission to them – remember Mark’s Jesus says, “It is not right to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs.”[2]

In the beginning of Matthew, Joseph is told in his dream that his son will save the people of Israel from their sins.[3] Matthew’s Jesus himself proclaims, “Think not that I have come to abolish the law and the prophets.”[4]

John’s gospel is clearly and unambiguously antagonistic to the Jewish community that has expelled its Christian members.  But mission isn’t John’s major concern. John’s gospel is focused on the nature of his community – this is the gospel where by far the longest passage is the account of Jesus’ teaching at the supper before the Passover, where he describes how people are to be in relationship with him and with each other.[5]

Luke in his second book, the Acts of the Apostles, will clearly leave the law and the children of Israel behind. The Acts ends with Paul imprisoned in Rome,[6] where he has been sent to bear witness.[7] In his gospel, Luke’s larger vision of Christ and his mission is already there in the infancy narrative. Jesus is more than light for people of Israel who have walked in darkness,[8] he is more than the light the people of Israel are called to become,[9] he himself is “the light of revelation to the Gentiles.”[10]

Today’s gospel is often cited as an example of Luke not being Jewish – famously, he mixes up the two different rituals – the purification of a mother and “the consecration or presentation of the child to the Lord.”[11]  Different apologies have been made for centuries about why and how he got the details wrong. But it seems natural to me that he did. He didn’t care about those details. The split has occurred already between the Jewish and the Jewish Christian community. The Church he knew had moved on. Jerusalem was in ruins after its revolt against the Roman Empire. And Christians are now in Rome – where Paul proclaims that the “salvation of God has been sent to the Gentiles [because] they will listen.”[12]

Everywhere it goes, the opposition, rejection and finally acceptance that Jesus himself received is now being received by the Church as it preaches Jesus’ resurrection, preaches the forgiveness of sins, and preaches the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on those who believe, those who have truly heard God’s Word and are trying to follow it.

Apart from the rituals that bring Joseph, Mary and Jesus to the Temple, the other two outstanding features of this narrative are the Song of Simeon[13] and Simeon’s words concerning the child and the sword.[14]

Simeon dies with the peace that passes understanding because he recognizes the child as savior, salvation, for himself and for all people.

Turning to Mary he tells her that her son “is set for the fall and rising of many in Israel”[15] and he will be “a sign that is spoken against”[16] – to use the translation of the Revised Standard Version. The late Raymond Brown translated the Greek as “a sign to be contradicted.”[17]

To Simeon, God had revealed the opposition that Jesus would face and the ruin of the city and people Jesus loved more than any other.

Simeon’s other words to Mary, “a sword will pass through your own soul also”[18] is probably not a reference to the spear in John’s gospel that pierces the side of the crucified,[19] but it is the sword of God’s judgment that Christ brings to all people. In Luke – and in a similar passage in Matthew[20], Jesus proclaims, “Do you think that I have come to give peace on earth? . . . henceforth in one house . . . they will be divided, father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against her mother.”[21]

The theme of judgment runs through the gospel narrative that is particular to Luke. The Good Samaritan – who is your neighbor and mine? [22] The Rich Fool, whose life is required that night and whose riches – whose will they be – are we rich toward God?[23] The Prodigal Son?[24] The Rich Man and Lazarus?[25] Zacchaeus the tax collector who gives half of his goods to the poor and restores fourfold what he has cheated others of.[26]  Justice, mercy, loving kindness: This is the sword in Luke’s gospel.

What about our wider vision as individual Christian men and women – and more importantly, our wider vision as a parish community? Saint Mary’s is a wonderful place for refuge and strength. And as important as our worship is, as important as our care for one another is, in Luke’s gospel, the Good News is mostly about what we do outside ourselves, not inside.

The other day I listened again to the speech Martin Luther King, Jr. gave in Memphis the night before he was assassinated. I remember the speech very well. I was fourteen in 1968. The speech made an enormous impression on me at the time. It’s a long speech, 45 minutes. The most well-known passage is at the end, when King speaks of going to the mountaintop and looking over into the promised land and knowing that he might not get there. But the speech is mostly about the struggle of very poor black sanitation workers for fair and equal treatment by the City of Memphis. The speech is striking also because from beginning to end it echoes the biblical narrative. 1968 is a point in American history when a leader like King was gently but unashamedly Christian and those who heard him were for the most part actively Christian too.

At one point, King said that everyone could look around and see God working in the world. Few speak like that today. But it is the language of Good News.

So, where do you and I see God working in the world today? Perhaps better, how are you and I working in the world for Christ today and tomorrow and the next day?

In a sense, when Simeon sees the child he sees God working in the world. When people look at you and me, in our own ways, may people see God working in his world.

+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.