Sermons for the Month
You may proclaim that Jesus has come into your life.
DATE: December 29, 2002
SERVICE: First Sunday After Christmas
TEXT: Luke 2:22-40“To all of you Saints here this morning, grace and peace to you from God our Father, from His Son, Jesus Christ and His Holy Spirit. AMEN
Have you ever looked forward to something for a long, long time? The children among us who thought Christmas would never come may know the feeling. It's like the cartoon that was published last week in which six-year-old Zoë was reading The Night Before Christmas to her little brother Hammie. She stressed the title, and then the first line. "It was the night BEFORE Christmas…" at which point the little boy complained, "Won't Christmas EVER come???" Another little boy I heard about on Wednesday must have felt the same way. It seems that he was encouraged to sing for his grandmother the songs he had recently learned in his church's preschool and Sunday School. So, he launched into a number of Christmas pieces and then abruptly stopped. When asked why he had ceased his performance he sighed and said, "I'm tired of singing about Jesus." (You see, that's what happens when you start singing those Christmas hymns too early!) In any case, being tired of waiting is a common feeling among the young, and perhaps it is for the old as well. No doubt both Simeon and Anna of today's Gospel lesson thought, "Won't the Messiah ever come?" First there is Simeon, a righteous and devout man who has spent his lifetime looking for the Messiah, the consolation of Israel. The Holy Spirit rests on him, and has revealed to him that he will not die until he has seen the Anointed One. You would think that he would not be so anxious for that to happen - since it signals his death - but he has waited a long time, and he wants to die in peace. And then there is the prophet Anna, an elderly woman, spokes person for God, who is constantly worshipping in the temple. In spite of her age she has never ceased to hope, to worship or to pray. She too is anxious to see the one who will bring salvation to Israel. In the midst of their waiting, Mary and Joseph bring Jesus to the Temple; he is about six weeks old. The 40-day period of purification has passed and the parents are required to offer a sacrifice on his behalf. No doubt, their minds are on this ritual. What must have happened as they entered? Imagine, if you will, the hallway or the narthex of our own church as people come and go on Sunday mornings. It must have been something like that, only much more crowded. Mary and Joseph and other young couples with babies, none of whom could go far into the Temple because the mothers were not allowed beyond the Court of Women, all intent on a task. But Simeon, who was there because the Holy Spirit had guided him to the Temple that day, moves into the crowd knowing only that this is what he must do. Perhaps he sensed that his wait was about to end and began to look for a commanding presence, a man who would be teaching or praying. What an exciting moment; the Messiah is about to be revealed! But, what's this? The Holy Spirit is stopping him in front of a man, a young woman and a tiny infant. I imagine Simeon shaking his head at the surprise, but then gathering his wits together, joy rising inside of him, as he takes the baby in his arms and proclaims that now he can depart in peace because he has seen the One, the Messiah, who he announces is for ALL people. Simeon is joined in this moment of celebration by old, faithful Anna who also proclaims that the baby is the One for whom they have waited so long. So it is that Mary and Joseph are again amazed at all that has happened to them. God continues to be full of surprises. It is so in our lives as well. We wait, we think we know how God will act, and then, BOOM, the surprising act of God is revealed. And, sometimes, God's activity is so surprising as to be easily missed. Let me tell you how that can be so. On Tuesday, Christmas Eve, when I stopped at home to change my clothes before the evening celebrations, I checked my messages. There was one from my cousin - to whom I have not spoken in six years - informing me that his father, my Uncle Frank had died. He was not an elderly man, only about 70, but his body - and especially his liver - failed him after years of alcohol abuse. While close to his own children, my Uncle Frank was estranged from much of the extended family. As you might imagine there are many stories to explain why. And while he was on speaking terms with his remaining brother and sister - my aunt and uncle who are now in their 80's - the relationship was far from warm. He was a character; someone who contemplated ideas did not cross most people's minds. He also was an extremely creative man, with a gift for putting words together that was never widely appreciated. However, I knew of his writing talent. About 12 years ago I decided to begin corresponding with this Uncle who I hardly knew except through the negative stories that were passed through the family grapevine. In my first letter I asked him to tell me about my mother, the sister who was 12 years older than him. I wept at this response; thankful for the picture he painted of the person I would never know. And then, every few months, I would receive a letter that brought a smile, a laugh, or cause me to shake my head in amazement. I seldom saw him - three years ago was the last time - but when the letters stopped this fall I missed them, and I knew something was amiss. He died on Christmas Eve morning. Although my Uncle Frank was not a religious man, my cousin tells me there will be a Memorial Service sometime this spring in Nebraska. His ashes will be scattered on the western winds. As I reflected on all this after the hectic activity of Christmas Eve I realized that God had surprised me once again. God had shown up in those 12 years of letter writing, revealing to me the heart of a person who I might have otherwise dismissed. This is a message we need to hear, especially during this Christmas Season when the shortcomings of life are before us more than usual. It may at times seem as if we are waiting and waiting for God's presence among us to be revealed - as was true for Simeon and Anna. Could it be, do you think, that the wait is not really that long, that Emmanuel is with us sooner than we think, but that our vision is clouded? Look hard, just as Simeon took a good, long look at that baby in the Temple, and you too may proclaim that Jesus has come into your life. AMEN