Isaiah 61: 10 62:3 Galatians 4: 4-7 Luke 2: 22-40 What Child is This? Mary R.

. Brownlow January 1, 2012 Two weeks ago, I spoke about the first chapter of Luke, with the annunciation of the angel Gabriel to Mary, and I showed the children a print of a medieval painting on that subject. Today, we are in the second chapter of Luke, and once again the word picture brings up a painting in my mind. I am thinking of the Rembrandt version of the Presentation in the Temple, with Simeon clasping the infant Jesus in his arms. It is a very dark scene (it actually looks more like a Dutch gothic cathedral that a Temple), with gray and brown shadows everywhere. But in the center we see the old man and the baby, their faces lit with a shaft of light coming from somewhere above. It captures that moment of insight, that moment of hope, that moment of transition from darkness into light. Very dramatic. We also get musical notes from this passage: this is the third of three songs Luke gives us around the birth of Jesus. The first is the Magnificat, Marys triumphant and hopeful recognition of Gods working through human lives. The second is the Benedictus, Zechariahs prophetic song about his son Johns ministry, the ministry of preparation for the Messiah. And now the Nunc Dimittis, Simeons song of thanksgiving as he is released from his lifelong task of waiting for Gods promises to come true. Much as moments of high feeling inspire a song in a theatrical musical, these special moments of insight make our ancestors sing out. The recognition of Gods power and mercy is so overwhelming that prose just wont do. Only song, only poetry can express that beam of light shining in the darkness. Simeon and the prophetess Anna are very much rooted in the past and in the traditions of their faith. Luke makes the point several times in this passage that everything is being done according to the Law of Moses, and that the two older people are steeped in tradition. But rather than seeing past and future as separate things, rather than turning nostalgically and fondly towards the old days, this rootedness makes them more receptive to new life and new possibilities. They know that the good old days even if they really were that good were nothing compared to what God has in store for all people. Even the greatest and most joyful moments of the past will be eclipsed by what is coming. Lukes Gospel does not have a story about Wise Men coming afar, from a foreign country in the East, or about a flight into Egypt. Instead, the vision of this small child as being a whole new beginning for a whole new people is granted to these ancient Hebrews, sitting at home in Jerusalem. Instead of rich gifts, we have the poor peoples offering at the Temple to mark the birth of a first child. The two small doves make it clear that Mary and Joseph cant afford the usual offering of a lamb. The setting is smaller and poorer. But the message blazes out just as strongly from Simeon and Anna: in the person of this infant, God is making the world over. God is consoling Israel, redeeming Jerusalem and giving the light of revelation and knowledge to all people. I see this new world as a widening sphere of family, with Simeon and Anna taking on the roles of adopted grandparents. They have the long sight that looks backward and looks forward and

looks down tenderly at a small baby. They have the kind of patience a kind we might try to emulate that knows we might want things to happen right now, but that there is a unfolding process whose end we might not see. We see here a sort of generational multi-culturalism, showing the way that we connect across time. And so the picture is luminous with hope. Even though this story highlights the unique gift of the baby Messiah, I feel that it also speaks to the new life and potential in each child. When Paul, in his letter to the Galatians, speaks of Jesus as the means by which we are adopted as Gods children, we see that God-infused life not as a one-time-only event, but as a doorway to a new understanding of the value of a child. This is a liberating process, where we move from slaves to children to heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ, as our local church covenant says. Simeons song tells us that this is not only for those young in years. He sings the Nunc Dimittis with the language of freedom. The word for dismissing is related to the word for releasing a slave from service. Simeon is experiencing a now moment of release and freedom as he holds that infant. In the act of clasping and claiming and naming, he is adopted into the family of God in a new way. In that moment, he is both Gods child and the Messiahs adopted grandpa. He catches the glimpse of the future that he will not see with mortal eyes. I often wonder about the unsung songs in the Bible. What was Anna singing: we have no actual words recorded from this elderly woman, even though it says that she was telling everyone about this baby. Maybe we have to put the words and melody to Annas proclamation, with our own lives and our own twist on the story. We have all heard the African proverb, It takes a village to raise a child. Hilary Rodham Clinton popularized it over a decade ago and it is still invoked to name our responsibility to the youngest and most vulnerable among us. In church life, we could say that it takes a congregation, or Gods village to raise and value and support each and all of Gods children to grow and experience the liberating power of the Spirit. It takes all the Simeons and Annas and Marys and Josephs to nurture a young lifeor an older life, for that matter. So how can we be that village, that family? Luke says that Simeon was just and devout and forward looking and open to the Spirit of God. Luke says that Anna was persistent in devotional practices and vocal about what she had seen. Luke says that Mary and Joseph gave this child a heritage of faith, lived out in practices of worship and sacrifice. Each had something to offer. Each saw this child as a hope and a treasure. Even though they rejoiced in new life, they were not wearing rose-colored glasses. Simeon blessed this family but also named the trials ahead: there would be opposition, thoughts would be revealed, even Mary would bear the burden of that soul-piercing destiny. It takes a village, a family of committed seekers, to keep the faith in the face of these challenges. I read another kind of word-picture of this scene in Luke. The Presbyterian poet and pastor David Steele retold the Bible story in poetic form. He hears a tale that Simeon is a slightly comical figure: hes been going back and forth to the Temple every day for years, pronouncing the same blessing over every baby he meets. Then Steele steps back from humor and says: When I read the blessing And thought about it,

I began to wish he was right, About Simeon--and those babies. And I began thinking about our babies. And I wished someone, Some Simeon, Might hold my grandbabies high-And yours-The born ones and the not yet Proclaiming to them With great conviction, "You are the saviors of the World!" Meaning it so absolutely Those young 'uns would live it, And love it, And make it happen! So what do we sing, a week after Christmas? We sing for joy at the returning light and the new light of Gods revelation. We sing in praise of Emmanuel, God-with-us, giving us visions and casting out fear. We sing in gratitude for the new family that is offered as we gather around word and meal. We sing a song of commitment to new life in every form, in every person, clasping tenderly in love the child who will lead us home. Amen.