Presentation in the Temple

February 2,2004

by Rev. Herbert Nichols

Just as the last Poinsettia leaves are disappearing, we suddenly find ourselves back to the infancy of Jesus Christ. By co-incidence of the calendar, today is exactly forty days after his birth. According to Mosaic custom, the first born male child had to be brought to the Temple to be redeemed or ransomed from the Lord.

In fulfillment of this ritual Joseph and Mary brought the child, who we call Jesus, but they called Yeshua, and presented him to the priest, Simeon, who immediately recognized Jesus as the glory of revealing light, the fulfillment of Scriptural prophecy.

The rabbi, Simeon, and the prophetess, Anna, received from God the great grace of meeting this child and recognizing in him the awaited Messiah, like another Epiphany. The prophet Malachi wrote: Suddenly there shall come to the Temple, the Lord whom you seek, like a burst of purifying fire.

Now Simeon asks: Who can endure this coming of the Lord? Who can stand in his presence? The answer is found in the second reading. We stand because the Lord stands before us; because he became one like us in flesh and blood, not an imitation, not a hologram, nor an angel, but took upon himself our total humanity, even death, to free us from slavery and the power of Satan, the power of death. We are reminded that Jesus did not do this for angels but only for us human beings, that he might stand before God, His Father, in our behalf to expiate our sins.

God and sin cannot co-exist. They are opposites. But Jesus, who is God, took upon himself every sin that has ever been or will be committed. And, as if for a moment he ceased to be God, suffering the total abandonment of His Father, he took to his grave the vilest and most vulgar of sin ever committed, and as the creed says; he descended to the depths of hell.

There the God of love, in the very depths of darkness and despair, met Satan, who thought he had won the big prize, the rejection of God himself. Then suddenly, there was an explosion like the world has never witnessed. The gates of hell were blown wide-open, the light of God penetrated every alley and corridor, as Jesus rose glorious from death.

This feast is like a pivot closing out the forty days of Christmas and preparing us for forty days of Lent and Easter. The Responsorial psalm speaks of the glorious entry into Jerusalem to become the sacrifice of Calvary. The blessing of candles today links this feast with the Easter vigil when those blessed candles will be distributed in the dark and lighted to shatter the darkness and proclaim the resurrection.

Symbols can often be misunderstood, or worse, used superstitiously, like a magic ritual or instant cure all. When the Church uses symbols, it is a powerful sign drawing us to the beauty of things which God has given us for our own good, and for his glory and praise.

We bless candles, we bless throats, we bless ashes, as signs of interior growth. As the days grow visibly longer, slow but surely, whether Puxically Phil sees his shadow or not, the darkness of winter will be overcome by the warmth of spring. And so too, our interior lives must yield to this warmth and grow or these externals are merely empty rituals.

How is Christ my personal light? What does that mean? Can Jesus really change my life? Can he put bread on my family table? Can he find me descent employment? What can he do about my unfaithful spouse? What can he do about my lack of forgiveness?

The answers are not easy or immediate. And spring won’t come tomorrow either, shadow or no shadow. As we wait patiently with the Lord; His light enlightens the darkness and the pain of our questioning souls and offers healing. Our Catholic liturgy is sometimes referred to as prayer of sights, sounds, and smells.

Most of us will put up with the first two, but want nothing to do with the third; but again, it is the prayer of the whole person, with all of our senses, including touch and taste, that help us find God in the ordinary and in the very intimacies of our lives. That’s what makes the difference between a superstitious sign and a sacred symbol.