Like Those Who Dream

Years ago, I took my father to Barnes Hospital in St. Louis.  He called me when I was working in Detroit, telling me that he was suffering from jaundice. One of the doctors in his small-town hospital had told him he had cancer and he was going to die.  I was appalled.  Dad hadn’t had any tests that would confirm a cancer diagnosis. So, I arranged an ambulance to take him to St. Louis, and I met him there after his first test.  There were many more tests scheduled for the rest of the week. 

At the end of my first day at Barnes, I went downstairs to the lobby.  I had rushed out of Detroit, stuffing a pile of post-it notes into my purse that had the car and hotel arrangements written on them. As I sat in the lobby, I opened my purse and all the post-it notes fell into a pile on the floor.  Suddenly, the full impact of what I was dealing with hit me.  My dad was sick, maybe dying.  I was alone here.  No one else from my family was with me.  Then I couldn’t find the address of my hotel; and wouldn’t know how to get there if I did. I felt terrified and alone.  Suddenly, quietly, I felt something I never expected to feel.  I felt consoled.  Comforted.  In that moment I knew God was with me, as surely as I knew I was breathing, and my heart was beating.  For the rest of that long week, the feeling of consolation came to me over and over.  When it happened, I thought I was dreaming.  But I wasn’t.  The touch of the Holy Spirit was more real than any dream.  More real than life itself.

Our story for today is much like a dream.  Luke transports us to the temple in Jerusalem.  We see a poor couple approach the temple gates with their newborn infant.  Then we see the priest Simeon at the door, letting them in. 

My story of God’s showing up at Barnes Hospital isn’t unique.  I have heard many stories like it…told to me by people of all ages, all faith traditions, and all circumstances.  If you have had such an experience in your own life, I invite you to bring that moment into focus today as we visit Simeon and Anna on the day they opened the temple door for Mary, Joseph and Jesus.

Our story begins and ends in the temple precincts.  Mary and Joseph brought their newborn child to the temple to fulfill the letter of Jewish law.  Hebrew law instructed families to bring their child to be named, circumcised, and blessed eight days after being born.  They also brought a sacrifice of two turtle doves to the temple.  Since Mary and Joseph were poor, they could not afford to bring a lamb.  Two turtledoves were considered appropriate for those of limited means.

We are in the temple, a holy place.  A place where prayers are lifted to God.  How lovely, how tender, the way aged Simeon cradles the infant Jesus in his arms.  Imagine holding in your arms this most wanted child, the hope of the ages.[1]

We are told that Simeon has been waiting for what Luke describes as the “consolation of Israel” his entire life.  In those days, there was a deep longing for the coming of the Messiah.  Many understood the Messiah as a military or political figure who would free the people from the oppression of Rome and rule with justice over Jerusalem.

But Simeon wasn’t yearning for such a Messiah.  He was yearning for God’s consolation of Israel.  He was looking for the promised journey home described by Jeremiah. “See, I am going to bring them from the north, and gather them from the farthest parts of the earth, a great company.  They shall return to Jerusalem, with weeping they shall come, and with consolation I will lead them back.”

Simeon wasn’t looking for a conquering hero.  He was looking for the healing only the presence of God could provide.  He was looking for a restoration of God’s covenant with the people, and for the healing of the rift between the northern and southern kingdoms that occurred before the exile.

Simeon had been waiting all his life for this.  When he gazed into the face of the infant Jesus, he knew.  He knew that God had surely come and would restore the people who had walked in darkness for so many years.  God came down, not to thrash evildoers or crush the Romans, but as an infant…to elicit love.

Have you ever noticed the kind of power infants have over adults?  Men with calloused hands become gentle when handed a baby.  People with gruff voices adopt a falsetto and coo to an infant.  God came down as an infant to elicit love and nurture tenderness.  For nurture and tenderness are the beginning of healing.

We are told that Simeon had waited all his life for this child…some 80 long years.  And now that he had seen Jesus, he could die in peace.  Simeon didn’t need to stick around to see just how God’s promises would be kept.  His 80 years of waiting had taught him a valuable lesson.  He had learned to trust God, and to continue to hope.  He didn’t scatter his thoughts and emotions along the landscape of worry and care.  He waited, and he longed for one thing.

Kierkegaard once said, “Purity of heart is to will one thing.”[2]  Jesus once said, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” 

Part of Simeon’s vision of God were these arresting words: “Your salvation…is a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.”  God is not satisfied to allow the division between the northern and southern kingdom stand.  God is not satisfied to allow the division between the Jews and the Gentiles to stand.  God is not satisfied…to let any division of human creation divide the world God created.

So, God came as an infant, drawing out of all humanity the yearning, the tenderness, the comfort, and the hope that an infant can bring.  For all things to be restored and Israel to be consoled, the hatred and fear and division must cease.

As you stand in the temple with me today, looking at Simeon’s glowing face, ask yourself, “Is there one thing I long for, I yearn for in my life and my world?  Is there one thing I want to see before I close my eyes?”  Hold that thing in your heart in the light of the infant Jesus, resting in the arms of old Simeon.

Our God is a God of promises made and promises kept.  And at the end of the day, we know that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus, our Lord.

My prayer for you in this New Year is that you might recognize where God is working and touching your life.  My prayer for you is that like Simeon, you might have the blessing of seeing God in your moments and your days.  Amen.

[1] Buttrick, George, The Interpreter’s Bible Vol. 7, page 260.

[2] Kierkegaard, Purity of Heart is to Will One Thing, page_____