Presentation of Christ within the Temple (Candlemas)

Malachi 3.1-5; Psalm 24; Hebrews 2.14-end; Luke 2.22-40

MOST reflections on the Presentation of Christ within the Temple (also called Candlemas) give attention to Simeon and Anna. Through this baby — amongst all of the babies who should have undergone the identical rituals — first Simeon after which Anna dramatically recognise the unique something, someone, that they’ve been hoping for.

What are sometimes missed (not less than, I even have not previously thought much about them) are the actions that begin and end the episode: “They brought him as much as Jerusalem” (v. 22); and “They returned to Galilee” (v. 39).

These movements enable the “Lord’s Messiah” (v. 26) to be present in Jerusalem, where Simeon is awaiting him. Jesus grows up in Nazareth; so Luke makes it clear that this visit to the holy city is just that: a fleeting sojourn, not somewhere to “rest and stay”.

In the church 12 months, Candlemas marks the top of Christmas. After it, Christian considering shifts towards Lent, Holy Week, and Easter. But the framing device of the journey and return is more harking back to how we treat the nativity than the Passion. Travelling is related to our tradition — which can be a desire and an instinct — to be with family members at Christmas. Once the religious observances (and the not-so-religious ones) have been accomplished, it’s time to make the return home.

This pattern of travel and return is mirrored on a bigger scale within the lifetime of every Christian. Even before our legal existence as individuals begins, it’s there within the journeys that our parents undertake on our behalf: to hospital for scans, check-ups, and other procedures; or to imperial censuses. Later, parents may journey with us to church, to pledge faith on our behalf until we will confirm it for ourselves.

An identical pattern is there in other repeated journeys that pattern our lives: to highschool, to college, to work, and back. And — on the most important scale by which we’ve tools for measuring our lives — it’s there in our conception and our dissolution, as we’re formed from dust and return to dust. As Qoheleth, the Preacher, puts it, “Then shall the dust return to the earth because it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it” (12.7 AV).

Within that frame of leaving and returning, human lives begin to distinguish into variants of the general pattern, in line with our individual talents and to the alternatives that we make, or which might be made for us. This could mean a give attention to life in the general public eye, or the privacy of non-celebrity. It could mean selections to be married or single, and for parenthood or non-parenthood. Jesus didn’t decide to be born male, or Jewish, or of mixed heritage, or into what we’d call a talented artisan class. But he did decide to be single, to be a teacher and healer, and to acknowledge and honour his Father and our Father, his God and our God.

Luke tells us that “the kid grew and have become strong, crammed with wisdom; and the favour of God was upon him.” Growth is the primary stage in what we recognise because the unfolding pattern of a life. It must happen before the closing stage — decay — can occur (not to say all of the stages of transformation, growth, stability, decline, and the like which can follow). Malnutrition and poverty, like sickness, may affect physical growth, but they can not cancel it — not, at any rate, while life stays.

Two of the characteristics mentioned, “strength” and “wisdom”, are variable. Not everyone grows up strong, or can appropriate the worth of wisdom. But the third, “grace” (the Greek word is charis, translated as “favour”), has “dawned upon the world” (Titus 2.11). The favour of God is upon every one among us, just because it was upon Jesus.

In modern times, intelligence is generally seen as an inborn quality. Wisdom, though, is something else. We can select to amass it. It is external to us. In scripture, it’s a divine quality, even a divine being. God may decide to bestow wisdom, as he did on Solomon (the supposed creator of those words from Ecclesiastes). But human individuals can all the time seek to amass it through effort and study, by cultivating and fostering the conditions that favour its increase. Mary and Joseph follow this God-given pattern, working together to fulfil God’s will for his or her son. Those same characteristics — growth, strength, wisdom, and beauty — are open to us, too.