A mixed blessing
8th February 2024
In Jerusalem was a man by the name of Simeon. He was an upright man, devoted to the service of God, living in expectation of the “salvation of Israel”. His heart was open to the Holy Spirit, and it had been revealed to him that he would not die before he saw the Lord’s Christ. He had been led by the Spirit to go into the Temple, and when Jesus’ parents brought the child in to have done to him what the Law required, he took him up in his arms, blessed God, and said—“At last, Lord, you can dismiss your servant in peace, as you promised! For with my own eyes I have seen your salvation which you have made ready for every people—a light to show truth to the Gentiles and bring glory to your people Israel.”
The child’s father and mother were still amazed at what was said about him, when Simeon gave them his blessing. He said to Mary, the child’s mother, “This child is destined to make many fall and many rise in Israel and to set up a standard which many will attack—for he will expose the secret thoughts of many hearts. And for you … your very soul will be pierced by a sword.”
Luke 2
Do you know what special day 2nd February is in some churches? Candlemas. The final celebration in the church season that begins at the start of Advent. In Advent we prepare for the coming of Jesus to be the light of the world, which we celebrate at Christmas. In some churches this is followed by the weeks of Epiphany when stories are told of that light shining out in different ways – to the wise men, through Jesus’ baptism, through the calling of the disciples and through his first miracles. Then at Candlemas we are taken right back to the time just after he was born.
Mary and Joseph have come to the Temple, the spiritual centre of Judaism, to make the offering for a firstborn son. They are met by an old man called Simeon. He has been waiting many years for this moment. God has told him that one day he will see the promised one, the Messiah – and somehow, as he sees this mother, so young, carrying her tiny child, he knows that he is the one.
He takes the child in his arms, and with great delight he says – ‘Now I can die in peace! Your promise has been fulfilled. With my own eyes I have seen the salvation you are bringing – for everyone!’ At church on Sunday a wonderful retired priest acted this out with two very hesitant children – and his joy was very moving.
But then, Simeon turns to Mary, and starts talking in riddles – about how this child is destined to make many fall and rise – how what he stands for will be attacked – and how a sword will pierce her own heart.
Great joy, and great sorrow. This child will know both – and so will Mary. What a thing to hear… In some ways this is true for all children, and for all parents. Looking into the years ahead, at times their hearts will no doubt be filled with joy – and at times they will be broken. That is the gift and the cost of all profound relationships.
And I think that this is also an unavoidable truth about life for all of us – life will hopefully bring good things to us, but it will also bring things that are very hard.
We may try to avoid this reality. We may hope that if we work hard and keep healthy and do all the right things we can avoid too much pain. We may pray that God will bless us and protect us from suffering. We may want to fight against this often apparently random mixture of joy and sorrow.
But perhaps this is how it must be. In The Prophet, Kahil Gibran says this: ‘The selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
When you are joyful, look deep into your heart and you will find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. When you are sorrowful, look again into your heart, and you will see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight’.
I wonder if that makes any sense to you? One thing I like to do each day is to look back over the previous day and with God’s help, reflect on what has been most life-giving in that day. The most life giving time isn’t the same as the happiest time. Sometimes the time I have been most alive is when I have been sharing someone else’s sadness, or they have been sharing mine. Both joy and sadness are part of our lives, and when we are able to share them in a place of love – with other people, and with God – our hearts may become more open to the real depth of our lives.
Can you picture Mary, listening to Simeon as he holds her child in his arms – his words of joy – his promise of heartache… Her life will never be the same.
Lord Jesus, you shared with your mother times of great joy and the most heartbreaking sorrow – and beneath all of this you were held together by profound love.
Be with us in all the joys and sorrows of our lives…
May we find others to share them with…
May we be open to others in all that they face…
and may we know you holding us in love in all that we live through each day.