The Feast of Candlemas
Sermon preached by Ed Green, Assistant Curate at St Bene’t’s for the Feast of Candlemas on 29th January.
The child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom; and the favour of God was upon him.
In one way or another, we all want to become strong and be filled with wisdom. For many of us, the pursuit of knowledge is what brought us to Cambridge. Others of us may seek excellence in a job we do, or we might need the strength and ability to care for a loved one in need.
We might not all agree on what “strength” or “wisdom” really mean, but they are, I think, universally wanted. I’ve yet to hear anybody saying that they hope to achieve their goal of becoming weak and foolish by the start of the summer.
But with the pursuit of strength and wisdom comes a very particular temptation: we want to measure them, and we do so by means of tests.
For many, this inclination toward measurement implies that God himself operates by testing. He is, after all, our judge, and how better to judge us than with a series of tests of our worthiness?
The attraction of this way of thinking is that it enables us to believe that we might be able to work out for ourselves who has passed and who has failed. After all, in our Gospel Simeón tells Mary: “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed.” Apparently, many will fall. Apparently, many will oppose Jesus. To a certain way of thinking, it makes sense that God would leave traps to trip up the opposers and make them fall.
The problem is that this doesn’t sound much like the action of an all-loving God. How can we ever live up to it? What if we fail? Is there a chance to resit?
This idea of God as a great examiner in the sky invariably makes him seem untrustworthy. What is the trick in this trick question? What is the pitfall that might cause me to stumble, to make that one fatal mistake that costs me my grade?
And the other side of this is we start to look out for competition. If there are limited spaces available, who are the poor souls who don’t make the cut? Perhaps I only have to be holier than a certain number of people in order to make the grade?
But the truth is that God is not some examiner looking to trip us up or trick us into making a mistake that costs us our salvation. He loves us, and our salvation is what he wants for us.
Instead, we are told he is like a refiner’s fire and like fullers’ soap. To continue the educational metaphor, he is not so much an examiner as a devoted teacher.
His aim is not to figure out precisely why we’re not worthy and hold it against us. In fact, he already knows how worthy we are, and the good news is that he goes on loving us anyway.
His is not a final assessment but an ongoing process of refinement, and of purification.
He will purify the descendants of Levi - and I think it’s safe to apply this metaphorically to ourselves - and refine them like gold and silver, until they present offerings to the Lord in righteousness. Not testing; refining.
That is the judgment which he will bring when he draws near to us. As we worship, we listen and respond to his Word. And it is through Word and Sacrament that we are purified.
When we engage in elaborate worship with processions and seemly eucharistic ritual, we are putting conscious thought and effort into the worship and glory of God, and that is very important.
But our refined liturgy is nothing if we do not allow our lives to be refined by the fire of the spirit. We find ourselves moved to acts of mercy and of justice, which are preached by the prophets and by Jesus himself.
And as we grow to do justice and love mercy, we find ourselves - sometimes almost effortlessly, other times with great difficulty - walking humbly with the Lord. That is the refining fire and the fuller’s soap.
St Luke tells us of two people who have spent their lives in this way, walking with the Lord as they learn his Word. We don’t hear a great deal about Simeon or Anna, so we can only really speculate on most aspects of their lives.
But we do know that Anna the Prophetess never left the temple but worshipped there with fasting and prayer night and day for many decades. We know even less about Simeon in some ways, but we get to hear what he has to say. It is usually assumed that he, too, is elderly by the time Jesus is presented at the Temple. And certainly, he gives the impression of someone who has been waiting a long time for his promised glimpse of the Messiah.
It’s clear that both of these people had been refined through prayer over many, many years.
But in Jesus Christ, God goes beyond his refining fire. As Simeon recognised immediately, in Christ God’s refining work is fulfilled.
And that doesn’t mean there’s no longer any need for it. But Simeon, once he had seen Jesus, as it was foretold he would, could see with his own eyes the end of his journey. He could see that salvation for which he had spent a lifetime hoping and praying.
The light that shines in the darkness, which the darkness could not overcome, is that same flame, lighting the path ahead.
Although there may still be unexpected twists and turns to come, the light of Christ lets us glimpse our destination. And we can see clearly, that the population of that heavenly city has not been kept down by difficult entry requirements.
for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.’ God’s refining fire is fulfilled for the whole world - not just a select few who were already worthy in advance.Indeed, such people wouldn’t need refining in the first place if that were the case.
The prophets often speak of all nations returning to God who made them. Jesus comes directly to us, where we are. We don’t have to make the journey by ourselves because by the time we start, he’s already here with us.
All we have to do is have enough faith to follow him and trust that he knows the way, because he is the way.
Life’s journey is shaped and contoured by many landmarks. Birthdays, first days of school. For some, graduation from university, or starting a first job. For some, marriage, and for some, the birth of children. The church gives us some landmarks of the Christian faith too - baptism, confirmation.
But not all major life events are happy ones. Breavements, traumatic global or local events, traumatic events in our personal lives.
To say that these are all parts of the journey - that sometimes the terrain is easy and at other times it’s hard - is not to say that our suffering is test to be overcome, nor to commend it as something ‘character building.’ It is simply the truth to which we all respond.
Jesus came to earth to share in our experience so that he could fulfil the refining work of God. Like us, he was born - that was what we celebrated at Christmas. Like all Jewish boys at the time, he was circumcised eight days later. Like Christians throughout the world and all ages, Jesus was baptized.
Today we celebrate the moment when he was designated as holy to the Lord in the Temple. But we know that he also experienced suffering, grief and even anger.
And, of course, he experienced that most final of life events, death, and yet he rose again.
It is not the events of our lives that are like a refining fire, or like fuller’s soap. It is God himself who walks with us in solidarity.
We are refined by Word and Sacrament - not only by listening to the word but by sharing it. Not only by receiving the sacrament but by going out as a living sacrament.
We are all designated as holy to the Lord.
There’s no test, just a road ahead. Sometimes it’s an easy path, sometimes it feels almost impossible to go on.
But we have a traveling companion, and he has walked this road before.
