delivered 28 December 2008
by Rev. Dr John Evans
In these days after Christmas we have an opportunity to be more reflective about the birth of Jesus and what it may mean for us. Of course, we have not quite done with the Christmas story – there are the wise men still to come – that is next week; and today we have two delightful Jerusalem residents – Simeon and Anna. For us today however, in the afterglow of Christmas, are there new insights for us about the birth of this child in Bethlehem and what it might mean for us in the year ahead?
Yesterday I was quite taken by the analysis in The Age of 2008 heroes. There were listed the usual suspects, and the usual anti-heroes as well. What was interesting in the article was the discussion on what makes a hero; who actually are heroes today. Several options were put forward. The starting point of course was Greek mythology – the demi-god, the person who is half-human, half-god – who leads, wins in battle, and saves the nation: Achilles or Hercules were cited as examples. And of course this is what the media expect of the modern hero. However, as the article indicated, our heroes can be very different. They can be the person who just happens to be at the right place at the right time, and through a selfless act, coupled with great courage, is a hero; such as someone who saves a child from drowning, or runs for assistance for an injured or dying mate. Or heroism can be the long, unspectactular overcoming of adversity, and rising above the pack which offers hope and inspiration – unfortunately they don’t lead news bulletins or get the headlines.
Whatever their orign, we seem to like heroes. As one paragraph in the article said,
If this year’s newspapers are anything to go by, we are awash with heroes. The word has appeared in headlines 140 times since last New Year’s eve in The Herald Sun, 119 times in The Australian and 71 times in The Age. The media loves a hero, worthy or not. It is such a short, sharp word – and it fits so well at the top of a story.
And here is part of the dilemma about Christmas we have just celebrated. Our focus goes all onto Jesus – our saviour – can we say ‘our hero’. All that adulation – angels and sheherds, and, soon wise men. Problem solved, we think – there is nothing left to do; the divine click of the fingers has taken place; Jesus is our hero. And he will save the day – immediately.
Our readings today, however, provide a useful counterpoint to such easy thought; and provide guidance as we begin our reflection on the year ahead.
The reading from Luke, so soon after the amazing, awe-filled encounters of the birth narrative, slips into a routine of local custom and tradition. There is nothing out of the ordinary here. Jesus is born into a Jewish family and is quickly immersed in the practices of the Jewish faith. Mary, Joseph and the baby followed Jewish law – see Leviticus chapter 12. First, Jesus was required to be circumcised on the eighth day. The family was then later to bring an offering to the temple – a lamb so that Mary could be purified following birth; but then
if she cannot afford a lamb, then she shall take two turtledoves or two young pigeons, one for a burnt offering and the other for a sin offering, and the priest shall make atonement for her, and she shall be clean. (Lev. 12:8)
This is why the young family was in the temple that day.
Simeon beholds the Christ child in the temple
And the actions of Simeon are very interesting. He had long held out for a better future – as scripture says, the consolation of Israel in those particularly dark times of Roman occupation. And as often the case in the Lukan literature (the gospel of Luke and Acts of the Apostles), co-incidences, amazing events, stirring moments are described as an action of the Holy Spirit. And again here – this saintly old bloke and finds himself with Anna in the Jerusalem temple that day – by the action of the Holy Spirit. He sees this family from Nazareth, Joseph, Mary and the baby Jesus and rejoices.
His prayer, known from the Latin for the first two words, the Nunc Dimittis.
Now Lord you let your servant go in peace
Your word has been fulfilled.
My own eyes have seen the salvation
Which you have prepared in the sight of every people
A light to reveal you to the nations
And the glory of you people Israel.
We might say, well, so what? Of course we have the advantage that we have seen the whole of Jesus’ life. Simeon’s hope was the coming salvation of the world – and all he saw was a tiny baby. Perhaps Jesus had one of those haloes around him we see in art work – and he would have known!! I don’t know. We don’t know why Simeon just felt moved at that time, but Simeon’s hero worship, does provide insight for us as we look to the future.
First, heroes come in unusual and unexpected ways, contexts and times. A child of a poor family – remember they could not afford a lamb for this ritual – is not a propitious starting point for one’s quest for consolation and hope. A promising young politician perhaps; or at the very least, a scion of a great family; but the child of Mary and Joseph was not immediately obvious. However, the profound ordinariness of this temple scene I find reassuring. Again and again in scripture, the ordinary is sanctified – the commonplace is affirmed and emerging from the routine of life comes hope. At the very least, God is with us in ordinary scenes of life.
Related to this is the second point that for Simeon, his hero was not going to just change the world tomorrow – this, after all, was a tiny baby. It would have to take time.
Like most Australian homes, around the walls, or on top of pianos or mantle-pieces, we have family photos. In thinking about today’s service – I have been drawn to looking at my own family’s baby photos. Some 20 or so years ago, some 50 or so years old. One is amazed how we can have the features of birth or infancy stick with us all our life – that smile, the squinted look, whatever – and it is still there today. But how we turn out as ‘hero material’ is a different matter. A lot can and does happen in those intervening years. But it is also true that there is still something hopeful, something full of possibility, in a child or baby. Many hopes rest on a child. However, the thing about putting one’s hope in the life of another is that can take a long time to mature and develop. Indeed it might take a generation or two.
The great fear for our contemporary crop of heroes – like a Barack Obama, is that we expect them to emerge overnight as our saviour. Simeon’s assurance was simply that with the birth of a child, he could go to his grave in peace. He had seen enough. Today we want everything immediately – we are impatient. For Simeon, even a tiny child was his hope – even though it could take some time, several decades for the full implications of Jesus of Nazareth to come to pass.
The third thing about Simeon is that there is evident in his conversation with Mary and Joseph brutal realism about this vision for the future:
This child is set for the fall and rising of many in Israel
Even for Mary herself – ‘a sword will pierce through your own soul also’ – he says.
Heroes are not loved by all. Heroes do not necessarily offer sweetness and light, all the time; hope takes time and can be painful.
These are all significant observations about who Jesus is – they give us a dose of realism to our worship of the Christ Child at this time; they also I hope reassure us as we begin to look to the year 2009 and what it holds.
- Expect God to break in unexpected ways – especially through the ordinary and mundane.
- See hope, Christian hope as a long-term project – be indeed patient – especially in difficult times. A tiny child was a sign of the hope for the future, but takes years to develop. Our hopes here at the Church of All Nations may take a long time to develop.
- And hope will be confronting – the message remains the same – but people will be affected. Expect the order of things to change. Not all will like it – and we ourselves might also become disappointed, and like Mary have our heart pierced also.
I can only take my hat off to the man with the bushy eyebrows – Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury. He seems to be one of the few religious leaders to speak out over the response of world governments to our international monetary crisis. I watch with interest his attack on the response to the global financial crisis. I don’t think he is against government responses, especially as the poorest and marginalised become so affected; rather he is attacking the view that we can continue to live in a world in which there is such monumental disparity of wealth; that greed, which created this crisis, can continue – and we can continue believing there is no cost – especially on the powerful – arising from this turmoil. If you like, there is no confession of sin, and conversion to a new way of living. As he says, he is no economist; he just does not want the moral compass to be completely lost overboard. Is he not saying the message of Christmas, the birth of Christ child, will not produce necessarily a return to the way things have been immediately in 2009. Rather, the birth of the Christ child will see the rising and the falling of many as we look to a new way of living and a fulfilled life.
Simeon and Anna saw a vision for the future fulfilled in their old age with this child. As the body of Christ here, or us personally, are we able to see seeds of hope also in our midst . . . not necessarily fulfilled, but at least sown, as we look to 2009.
