SERMON -  PRESENTATION OF CHRIST IN THE TEMPLE 2005 (Year A) 

Readings:    Malachi 3: 1-4    Psalm 24    Hebrews 2: 14-19    Luke 2: 22-40 

May the word of God open our hearts to truth.  Amen. 

Today’s Gospel reading from Luke is an extraordinarily rich passage. It is deeply significant, both in its content and in its location within the entire Lukan narrative. It brings to an end the accounts relating to Jesus’ birth and earliest life – the so-called infancy narrative, and our reading of it today signals the end of the Christmas season.  

Over the last 10 weeks, through Advent, Christmas and Epiphany, we have heard the story of Jesus’ miraculous conception, and of his birth and the strange events which surrounded it. We have also heard of the conception and birth of his kinsman, John. All of these stories have hammered home the central message that this child, Jesus, so wondrously conceived, so humbly born, was indeed the long-awaited Messiah, the one anointed by God to save the Jewish people. 

The story of the presentation of Christ in the temple and of Simeon and Anna’s recognition of him as the one who was to come, emphasises Jesus’ place as being solidly within Jewish tradition. Although he is to be, in Simeon’s words, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, nonetheless he is being raised as a Jew and is destined to bring glory to Israel. The message is clear, Jesus is raised within a righteous family who observe the Law. This is not someone whose mission is to be on the fringes of the faith, critiquing it from the outside.  

This point is further emphasised in the next part of the gospel. In a section which sits by itself, there is an isolated story from Jesus’ adolescence. When Jesus is 12 the family makes its customary Passover visit to the Temple. When everyone leaves to go home, he gets left behind and is eventually found in the Temple, listening to the teachers and questioning them. The Gospel account then moves forward nearly 20 years in one seamless leap and picks up the story of John the Baptist. This account of Jesus in the Temple is like a stepping stone between his infancy and his public ministry.  

What was the author getting up to here? It is almost as if he/they (probably not she) are trying to head off any suggestion that Jesus might not have been immersed in Judaism. The stress on his religious credentials is so strong that I wonder whether there had been accusations suggesting he was not really properly educated in Judaism.  

Whatever the reasons, Luke’s testimony is unequivocal – from his earliest childhood, this child was deeply imbued with the faith, so much so that at 12 he could participate in the learned conversations of the Temple teachers. 

Also spelt out in letters a mile high through the earliest chapters of Luke is the relative significance of Jesus and John the Baptist. Jesus is the anointed one, John the Baptist was his herald. John was important, but, in his own words, not fit even to untie Jesus’ sandals.  

The accounts of John’s miraculous conception, his birth, and his naming are all here in these early chapters, artfully intertwined with the accounts of Jesus’ conception, birth and naming. At every point, Jesus’ identity as the Messiah and John’s subordinate role is emphasised. The gospel’s intention here is obvious. John the Baptist had attracted a large following during his ministry and many of his disciples were pushing his claims ahead of those of Jesus. The author of Luke’s Gospel is acknowledging John’s importance but unmistakably stating Jesus’ greater importance. In effect, he is saying, ‘I understand why you follow John, but you must realise that Jesus is even greater than he is’. 

Simeon’s response to Jesus is part of this statement of Jesus’ identity and it has become one of the most treasured passages of Scripture. Not only does it give a pithy and beautiful statement of who Jesus is, it expresses joy at the fulfilment of God’s promise. All that Simeon hoped for, all that he believed had been promised to him, has come to pass. All is revealed, all is encapsulated in this one small baby. Let us be in no doubt then about who this child is.  

But Simeon also looks forward, anticipating what is to come. His speech has a dual function: it summarises all that the infancy narrative has been building up to and it starts to map out what the future will hold. He describes the child as a source of division for Israel and predicts that Mary’s soul will be pierced.  

The rest of the Gospel is the outplaying of the story: what happens when God and humanity live together? How do we humans, who claim to worship God, actually react when confronted with the reality of God in flesh and blood? The answer is that we failed on almost every count: we failed to realise who he was, we failed to listen to what he had to say, when we did hear, we failed to understand and implement his teachings. Before long, the threat to our established way of life was so strong that we colluded in his death.  

It is most unusual for Lent to follow so quickly upon Candlemas.  Easter this year is about as early as it ever is and, as a consequence, we will be marking Ash Wednesday in the coming week. And yet it is a powerful and salutary conjunction. In this feast of the presentation of Christ in the Temple, we have a potent statement of Jesus’ identity as the anointed one, the Messiah.  

Lent poses the question: Knowing who he is, seeing the challenges he laid before humanity and the revelation of the nature of God contained in his life, teachings, death and resurrection, how then shall we live?  

And, having answered that question, in what ways do we fail? What mistakes, attitudes, pettinesses have come between us and God? What evasions, fears and insecurities prevent us from becoming who we are truly created to be?

Let us celebrate this feast today  with light, song and prayer, sharing in Simeon and Anna’s joy at the arrival in the temple of the promised one. But let us not forget the challenge and the call to truthfulness and humility which await. 

Amen.