FEAST OF THE PRESENTATION

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 2, 2003

CHURCH OF THE REDEEMER

More people recognize today as Groundhog Day, I am sure, than as the Feast of the Presentation of Christ in the Temple.  However, for our purposes I shall focus on this rarely observed feast, since it falls on a Sunday in 2003.  Probably I shall not soon be able to do so, given the limits of the Church calendar.  Here, then, is my take on the Presentation.  The feast is based on the Law, the Torah, specifically verse 2 of chapter 13 in Exodus and 29 of chapter 22 in the same book.  Let me quote the source to you:  “The Lord said to Moses, Consecrate to me all the firstborn; whatever is the first to open the womb among the Israelites, of human beings and animals, is mine.”  And “The firstborn of your sons you shall give to me.” 

The Presentation is a rite of dedication to God who has saved the Israelites from destruction and slavery in Egypt.  Behind this divinely ordained custom is an act of remembrance and gratitude for the deliverance of the Israelites, when the first born of the Egyptians were killed and the firstborn of Israel spared by the mercy of God.  The presentation of the firstborn is highly symbolic; children were to be neither sacrificed nor given into the active service of God.  Rather, the ritual is more of a thanksgiving, a reminder of the miraculous gifts that God bestows upon God’s people.  An observant Jewish family like that of Jesus would obey the Law and take their firstborn to Jerusalem to be presented to God.  So we have the story in today’s Gospel, Jesus taken by Mary and Joseph up from Nazareth to the great temple of Jerusalem.  (There is another dimension to the story concerning the act of purification of the mother, a rather arcane practice in early Judaism.  However, let’s concentrate on the presentation itself.) 

Enter old Simeon, a religious and devout man who spent much of his time in the Temple.  He takes the forty-day-old baby in his arms and declares poetically that he can now die in peace, having seen and held the long-awaited Savior of his people.  After a short time, Joseph and Mary take Jesus back to Nazareth, having fulfilled the requirements of the ritual Law.  Little did they know, of course, that their child was to grow into the adult Jesus who would alter the course of history forever.  At least they now knew that his life was given to the destiny of God.  They had presented; God had received. 

We barely notice this simple presentation ritual, compared to the miracles and wise teachings that comprise the Gospel.  The collect for today offers a compelling theological direction for our thoughts. “As your only-begotten Son was this day presented in the Temple, so WE may be presented to you with pure and clean hearts by Jesus Christ our Lord.” It is less the historic story but the contemporary application of the presentation that speaks to you and me.  We may be presented.  Each of us stands at a particular point in his or her own history, in his or her own relationship with God.  Right this very day, we might encounter God.  Such an encounter might be a mystical experience in the middle of prayer or meditation. The encounter could be at the altar rail.  Or, consider this, our encounter might be at the time of our death. 

My recent experience with surgery has spurred my thinking about death.  Praise God, I was given another chance at life, perhaps to live life better or more fully.  I think that now I known what Jesus meant when he said, “ I am come that you might have life and have it abundantly.”  Let me tell you, my friends, that when you lie down on that operating table, your arms spread out and secured to receive your anesthesia, you are on the edge of being presented to God.  No longer are you in control.  Your intelligence, status, beauty, youth or age, wisdom, or faith are not in your control.  In surgery you give up that which we value the most, control and power.  Lying there, I was powerless, and surrendered myself to the skill of doctors acting, I believe, as the agents of God’s love, and healing grace.  Has God called me to his nearer presence in those brief hours, what would I have presented to God?  Would I, as the collect suggests, present a pure and clean heart?  I believe I did.  I say that not as proof of my own piety or goodness, but because I had been anointed, forgiven my sins, and assured of the loving protection of God the very day before surgery when Bishop Shaw came to our house and ministered to me. 

But it was God, not the bishop, it was God who received me for healing and forgiveness.  It was God who held me in his arms as Simeon held the child Jesus in the Temple.  It was God who held those seven astronauts in his arms but 24 hours ago.  And, you know, this is what our faith means and always has meant.  We live and die in the presence of God; we get another chance; God stands by our side, working for us, helping, holding, and blessing us every step of the way.  Such a concept lies at the heart of why you and I, and the communion of saints, ARE the Church.  As I have said more than once, much as we love fellowship and should, the real business of the Church lies in the faith of its baptized members.  Only the Church affords us the chance to celebrate our particular, intimate, and mysterious relation to that invisible God we affirm in our wordy but useful creeds.  We gather here to pray, sing, break bread and share the cup, and recite the words of our faith, owning our hope as believers, people of faith.  The faith community welcomes us just as we are and schools our hearts to be pure and good.  God knows our limits and recognizes our natural sinfulness; God laments our wayward behavior; yet God in Christ Jesus invites us every day of our lives to be new creatures, as the hymn we same last week describes us, we are “ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven”. 

When you and I present ourselves to God, we are not sure of our purity or cleanliness.  On the night before Jesus was arrested and put to death he assured his closest friends that he would be with them always and that their hearts should not be troubled.  “Believe in God, believe in me.”  In the powerful moments when God calls us to present ourselves lies the opportunity to learn the very core of our faith, that we are creatures of God, loved by God, and redeemed by God’s own Son on the Cross.  In one of the ancient and beloved Eucharistic prayers we say: “And here we offer and present unto thee, O Lord, our selves, our souls and bodies, to be a holy, reasonable, and living sacrifice unto thee.”  It is at such beautiful moments as these that we do indeed present ourselves, on good days and bad days, full of goodness or deeply flawed, that we encounter the God of our faith.  I am more deeply aware than I ever have been that as we give up control and our lust for power, we will meet the God who welcomes us in this world and in eternal life.  We have but to ask, to go to the Temple of our souls, and find there a place prepared for us.  With our faith thus strengthened, we face the realities of life, the hilarious joys, the shattering tragedies, the dreadful prospect of war, and all of life, full of confidence and hope.  We can truly celebrate our liberation from fear and pride, transformed by the amazing power of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  AMEN. 

The Rev. Richard H. Downes

Return to sermons page