A Light for Revelation

Preaching Notes

Focus Text: Luke 2:22-40

So, now what? That is always my favorite question after a big event, after Christmas, Easter, or even Pentecost. Maybe even after more secular events: Mother’s or Father’s Day, the Fourth of July, graduation, wedding, or the birth or adoption of a new baby. So, now what? What has changed around me or around us that makes us take the next step into a new world? What has changed within me that makes everything I could do or think from now on evidence that I am not the same person as before, and that we are not the same community as before? So, now what?

Simeon approaches this question a little differently. Luke says that he was righteous and devout and that he was waiting, or anticipating, or looking for … something. My favorite translation says he was looking forward to the consolation of Israel. I love that. I’m not sure what it means, but it sounds really nice. We would all like a little consolation. We’d like to be consoled. Not a consolation prize that says nice try, but you didn’t quite make it. But the very thing you have been aching for, longing for, hoping for, praying for has come to be. Other translations talk about restoration, rescue, or comfort. We are wrestling with what exactly Simeon was looking for. But that he was leaning into what God had in store for his people was clear.

So, when the young couple stagger into the Temple with the ritual sacrifice for the first-born son and pay with the provision for the poor, two birds, Simeon gets an urge; maybe it’s an itch, an inclination, a compulsion, just something that catches his eye. He thinks that he needs to be part of the hospitality team for a moment. He rushes to the side of this somehow holy family, and he says … Well, what does he say? Here again, we can scan around the different translations and not be certain. In some, he seems to be asking for something; in others, he is acknowledging that something is happening. The traditional language of the “Nunc Dimittis” is “now let your servant depart in peace.” But our translation says, “you are dismissing your servant in peace.” “It’s already done,” or “Let it be done.” Does it matter? Maybe not, probably not. But there is something about agency here that seems significant. That God is at work in this is clear, but Simeon has a part to play. And that part is pointing to the light.

Simeon isn’t even speaking to increasingly uncomfortable new parents. His opening words are a prayer to God, a prayer of thanks for God’s faithfulness. It is a celebration and confirmation of all that has been guiding his heart and his hopes for all these years. It is a naming of what had been revealed to him in the secret places of his own worship life. Maybe he talked about it before, but it seems more likely that it was his secret, his burden and joy to carry within his soul the hopes and fears of all the years for his people. But now, he sees with his eyes what has been an intangible vision and an indescribable dream within his being. And he is able to put into words, to name this longing that had motivated him for so long: salvation for all people. That’s an incredible statement, don’t you think? For all people. He goes further. “A light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel” (2:32).

Glory, not as somehow better than everyone else; Not as setting up a hierarchy of nations. But glory as affirmation, or inspiration to continue to live as a sign of God’s presence in the world. Glory to the people who will continue to be your people. Glory for those who have known obedience and worship, who have lived ritual and community. Glory for God’s people, which has always been with them because God was with them, and the glory is God’s.

But now doors are opening. Paths are being broken, trails are being blazed—by this infant, this sign of the presence, this hope in flesh. The unknown is now known because there is a light, the light of revelation. A light is now shining, Simeon prays, and Anna proclaims. A light of access, a light of invitation. This is a candle in the window, inviting the world to come home, drawing us all home.

Then Simeon’s prayer ends, and he looks deep into the eyes of the young mother and sighs. He says, echoing cousin Elizabeth, blessed are you among women. But then, with the wisdom of age and sadness at the state of the world, he says that it won’t be easy. There are many things that do not like the light that shines into the whole world. There are those who want to be exclusive, who want only a few to hold power, to have agency. There are those who subscribe to the necessity of walls and the hierarchy of peoples. This person of light will be opposed, attacked, and seen as a threat to the status quo. It will not be easy to stand with him, to follow him, to mother him. A sword will pierce your own soul. Again and again. This is the life you fell into, the life you said yes to.

But you are blessed. Even in the piercing, you are blessed because God is with you. Hope is with you. Light is with you. Embrace and follow that light.

So, now what? Now, walk in the blessedness of a light of revelation. Walk through open doors and be the hospitality team that welcomes the world into this light. Walk in the light.