Simeon

Luke 2:21-40 (The Message)

When the eighth day arrived, the day of circumcision, the child was named Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived.

Then when the days stipulated by Moses for purification were complete, they took him up to Jerusalem to offer him to God as commanded in God's Law: "Every male who opens the womb shall be a holy offering to God," and also to sacrifice the "pair of doves or two young pigeons" prescribed in God's Law.

In Jerusalem at the time, there was a man, Simeon by name, a good man, a man who lived in the prayerful expectancy of help for Israel. And the Holy Spirit was on him. The Holy Spirit had shown him that he would see the Messiah of God before he died. Led by the Spirit, he entered the Temple. As the parents of the child Jesus brought him in to carry out the rituals of the Law, Simeon took him into his arms and blessed God:

God, you can now release your servant;
release me in peace as you promised.
With my own eyes I've seen your salvation;
it's now out in the open for everyone to see:
A God-revealing light to the non-Jewish nations,
and of glory for your people Israel.

Jesus' father and mother were speechless with surprise at these words. Simeon went on to bless them, and said to Mary his mother,

This child marks both the failure and
the recovery of many in Israel,
A figure misunderstood and contradicted—
the pain of a sword-thrust through you—
But the rejection will force honesty,
as God reveals who they really are.

Anna the prophetess was also there, a daughter of Phanuel from the tribe of Asher. She was by now a very old woman. She had been married seven years and a widow for eighty-four. She never left the Temple area, worshiping night and day with her fastings and prayers. At the very time Simeon was praying, she showed up, broke into an anthem of praise to God, and talked about the child to all who were waiting expectantly for the freeing of Jerusalem.

When they finished everything required by God in the Law, they returned to Galilee and their own town, Nazareth. There the child grew strong in body and wise in spirit. And the grace of God was on him.

As we discuss the role of Anna and Simeon today, I want to "re-run" a blog I wrote about a man who played the role of "Simeon" in my own life. Originally posted 12/21/2005.

Eight days after Jesus’ birth, Old Simeon’s dreams come true. Luke calls him “devout,” and one was has been “looking forward” for many, many years. We assume that Simeon is of an advanced age because of what’s implied in verse 26, “he would not see death before he had seen…” And then, once his faith is fulfilled in sight, Simeon seems resolved that the time of a more eternal calling has come. Master…servant…peace…word…eyes…salvation.

When Simeon is spoken of in church, it’s usually shortly after Christmas, not right before it. I suppose that certainly makes sense. Although his story, like Anna’s (keep going in Luke 2), is very powerful and compelling, I’ll admit that his story seems like a bit of a strange choice for our consideration just four days before Christmas.

I mean, Simeon is not to be found in my plastic, life-size, light-up, outdoor nativity scene. What about the Shepherds and Kings (or Magi, or Wise Men...whatever works for you) and Angels? What about Joseph and Mary and stables and cows and mangers and, “asleep on the hay?”

Christmas would not be Christmas without any of those figures. But Simeon represents something powerful and very necessary for the human heart. Simeon is hope and faith with staying power. His is not a chance encounter with the Messiah, it is a culmination and completion of a life-long faith.

Simeon gives us an incredible gift: the chance to glimpse what full-blown faith might look like if the sometimes-buried spark of belief that lies within our own hearts were to be nurtured and tended for a lifetime. Simeon shows us God’s marvelous and mysterious penchant for making himself known through the most unlikely of vessels, like tiny babies or little old men.

I met Simeon for myself in the summer of 2001. With the ink not quite dry on my just-acquired seminary degree and the shine from my brand new Emory alumni ring gleaming in the sun, I arrived on the pastoral staff at Wesley UMC as green as a fresh-cut pine.

If I am at all more seasoned today, Mr. Fred Jensen should receive credit, and he will forever have my gratitude. I’m sure that we met for the first time on a Tuesday morning, just after our Men’s Group breakfast, and it didn’t take long to know that he was a truly fascinating character and a man of deep and abiding faith.

Mr. Fred proved that big things really do come in small packages. Always the wonderful combination of dapper (quite the natty dresser) and chipper (even at 7 a.m.) the only things sharper than Mr. Fred’s shirt and bow-tie combinations were his amazing wit and voracious appetite for knowledge.

What I did not know at first was to what extent Mr. Fred planned to take me under his theological and spiritual wing. That was a very good place for a young, green preacher to be. Nearly every Tuesday morning for four years, Mr. Fred would bring me bundles of magazines and copies of articles extracted articles from his own library. Admittedly, I didn’t always see an obvious connection between some of the wide-ranging topics he wanted me to explore and my life and work as a pastor. Eventually, though, I came to understand. Mr. Fred was fascinated with everything in this amazing world that God had made and he wanted me to see the value in that kind of amazement. He knew a wonderful secret: if you want to see God, then you need to learn how to open your eyes and look…everywhere.

“You know, you’ve got to build your file,” he would always tell me, concerned that I would ever be at a loss for just the right sermon illustration on some future Sunday morning. He never failed to tell me, “if you read something good, remember that I want you to make a copy and hand it on to somebody else.” No knowledge should be lost, for it was all far too precious. Slowly, over time, he taught me that a pastor’s job, in large part, is to gather up all those God-pieces that float through the world around us and help put together the puzzle so that everybody can see the big picture. He knew and respected the mighty nature of that task. Because of Mr. Fred's witness, I do too.

We would spend time in conversation about the topic of the day, and before he left I would always receive the assurance that I was in his prayers. I know that I always was. I will always remember the warmth and earnest nature of his handshakes and hugs, and the gleam and fire of life that always shone in his eyes. That gleam remained unchanged throughout the many years of his life, even as his body aged and ultimately failed him.

Mr. Fred answered his eternal calling this week, and I sure do wish that I could talk theology with him over coffee this morning. Now that the answers to all of the questions have been found, I have to believe that Mr. Fred’s words might simply echo those of Simeon if he could give some final advice to this slightly-older preacher. Master… servant …peace … word… eyes… salvation. But I think there would be one more word, too. Look.

He leaves a wonderful wife of 55 years, an amazing family, and many, many friends. He will be dearly missed, but he would want us to look forward. That is what we will do. He would want us to look for “Emmanuel, God With Us” this Christmas, and that is what we will do, too. Incarnation happens in the most unlikely of places. 2000+ years ago it happened in a manger, in a stable, with Mary and Joseph and Shepherds and Angels, but for many years before that, God’s presence had been known through the witness of an old man who doggedly looked --- forward.

God really is with us. We only have to learn to look. May the peace of Christ be with you this season and into a wonderful 2006.

Grace and Peace,
Adam