Sermon: Simeon & Anna Senior Saints
From Wellington Cathedral of St Paul
Simeon & Anna Senior Saints
Presentation of Jesus in the Temple 31 January 2010
The Revd Jenny Wilkens
- Hebrews 2:14-18
- Luke 2:22-40
http://cathedral.wellington.net.nz/index.php/Sermons
Last Friday was the anniversary of my baptism, when I was brought by my parents to Nelson Cathedral as a three week old baby - I think it had to be fitted into the school holidays! I'm told I slept right through the occasion, so obviously felt quite at home in a Cathedral setting!
I had been born on the Feast of the Epiphany, and it's said that Bishop Hume Moir threatened to christen me 'Epiphania' so I guess we could say I had a lucky escape!
As I celebrated the Eucharist in the Lady Chapel here at lunchtime on Friday, I looked at the window there depicting Simeon holding the infant Jesus, with Mary alongside him. Two people are missing from the scene of course, Joseph who perhaps was busy dealing with the two pigeons, and the aged prophet Anna. I’ve always been rather fond of Simeon and Anna and their place at the end of the birth narratives in Luke’s gospel.
I wonder if you’ve noticed that Luke’s gospel begins the story of Jesus’ birth first of all with two older people, Zechariah and Elizabeth who are blessed in their old age with the gift of a child, John the Baptist. We don’t know how old they were, but Zechariah calls himself an old man, and he says Elizabeth is getting on in years. (Obviously he has been married long enough to know not to let on exactly how old she was!)
Then we come to Simeon & Anna: we’re told Anna was of a great age, having lived as a widow to the age of 84. It’s interesting we’re not actually told that Simeon is old, rather we infer that, from hearing that the Holy Spirit told him he would not face death before he’d seen the Messiah. These four older people Zechariah & Elizabeth, Simeon & Anna have been called the book-ends of the Christmas story – I quite like that image! They are the stable bookends that hold the story together, and keep it from falling over. Another image I like is that these four older people Zechariah & Elizabeth, Simeon & Anna were 'midwives' to the infant Jesus. God used older people to be the midwives of bringing to birth Jesus, the son of God, and sharing this good news with all those around. These four all had a vital part to play in his story.
I don’t know if any of you here are midwives, but it’s interesting that in many societies it was and still is the older women of the community who are the midwives.
They are the ones with the experience of life and death – they are there at the births, but they are also often the ones who prepare the community's dead for burial. They are there at the crucial beginnings and endings of human life.
It reminds me of the women who were there at Jesus’ tomb, there to anoint and minister to the dead, only to find themselves instead being ministered to by Jesus who was now gloriously alive, the first-born of the new creation.
That 'midwife' image is also a strong one within Celtic Christian tradition. February 1st is the Feast day of St Brigid of Ireland, and she is traditionally the saint called upon by women in childbirth. There is also a large body of tradition linking her in with the birth stories of Jesus. Brigid is seen as the midwife of Mary, the foster-mother of Christ, and a candle-bearer lighting the way before the Holy Family. This neatly links Celtic Brigid’s feast day of February 1st with the Roman celebration of Candlemas (the Presentation of the infant Jesus at the temple) on February 2nd, which we are commemorating this evening.
As we light candles tonight, we hear again Simeon proclaim the infant Christ as a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.
As we've heard tonight the choir again singing the 'Nunc Dimittis', I want to bring you for reflection some words written recently about Choral Evensong by Canon Lucy Winkett, Canon Precentor at St Paul's Cathedral in London. She says this:
"The combination of Cranmer's Prayer Book emphasis on the Incarnation, together with the transcendent sound of choristers in an evocative acoustic, is a compelling combination for an exhausted urban population looking for peace. The conversational rhythm of the versicles and responses, the ancient wisdom of the psalms, the prophetic energy of the Magnificat, and the sure touch of Simeon's Nunc Dimittis faith, …all these elements create a sacred space filled with the sounds of Scripture, within which can be held that day's events, disappointments, disasters and delights."
Much to reflect on there, but the phrase that stays with me tonight is 'the sure touch of Simeon's Nunc Dimittis faith'. As we begin a new year with all its uncertainties, I pray that we may all know 'the sure touch of Simeon's Nunc Dimittis faith'.
I was struck by an image in our reading from the letter to the Hebrews tonight, where it says that through death, Jesus was able to free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death (Heb 2:14,15).
It's been said that in Western society our last taboo, now that we've got sex into the mainstream, is death, and there have been a rash of books and films lately, have there not, about death, heaven and the after-life. The Lovely Bones, What dreams may come…You'll think of others.
Held in slavery by the fear of death - I wonder is that an image you can identify with. It's all right when all is right with the world and the sun is shining, and we're on holiday, but when crisis strikes, the earth shakes, or we or a loved one end up in hospital or in an accident, things look a bit different, don't they? It is then we need 'the sure touch of Simeon's Nunc Dimittis faith'.
And perhaps rather than the familiar 'Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace', we need to hear the more literal translation: 'Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace.' That reminds us that the image here is of a master setting free the slave in an act of manumission, and they are in a state of peace one with another. That is the beautiful image of the aged Simeon finally set free from the slavery of the human fear of death, and released into the peace of God, through the promise of the child he holds in his arms.
These are the words we clergy have the privilege of proclaiming as we entrust our dearly beloved senior saints into the arms of God, knowing they are beyond fear, beyond pain, secure in the love of God, secure in their salvation won in Christ. May we pray that we will know that sure touch of Simeon's Nunc Dimittis faith as we commend ourselves and those we love into the hands of God at the hour of our death.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer knew what it was to live a life of many demands and many choices, and also what it was to face death as a Christian. He wrote this in one of his Letters and Papers from Prison (20/5/1944):
"God requires that we should love him eternally, with our whole hearts, yet not so as to compromise or diminish our earthly affections, but as a kind of cantus firmus (ground bass) to which the other melodies of life provide the counterpoint… Where the ground bass is firm and clear, there is nothing to stop the counterpoint from being developed to the utmost of its limits… We must have a good, clear cantus firmus. Without it there can be no full or perfect sound, but with it the counterpoint has a firm support and cannot get out of tune or fade out, yet is always a perfect whole in its own right. It is only polyphony of this kind that can give life a wholeness, and at the same time assure us that nothing can go wrong so long as the cantus firmus is kept going….pin your faith on the cantus firmus."
Pin your faith on the cantus firmus - the living Lord who is with us through life and death.
Follow after the sure touch of Simeon's Nunc Dimittis faith, so that we may walk into this year, whatever it holds, in peace. Amen.
