Saturday, 30 January 2010

Presentation of Christ in the Temple

Wordle: Presentation in the Temple

Forty days ago, on the first day of Christmas, we celebrated the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ. Forty days later, on the last day of Christmas (2nd February or the nearest Sunday) we remember the Presentation of Christ in the Temple. This is one of the oldest celebrations that the church has; the first reports of the service go back to before we had a completed Canon of Scripture.


In July 1979 I experienced a (relatively) modern equivalent of this when my own daughter was born. My friend Elaine gave birth to her first child - a boy - a few days before, and she named him Leo.  On the eighth day when he was circumcised at home by the local rabbi I suddenly realised she was jewish - it hadn't been a topic of conversation previously.  Later she and her husband took the baby to the synagogue and presented him – at the same time paying a sum of money to the rabbi – to redeem Leo, their first-born son.

Link to Passover

The link here is to the original Passover, when during the final plague which God brought upon Egypt, all the first-born of Egypt died, whereas when the first-born son of each Hebrew family was saved from death. Therefore, the children spared by God belonged to him, and had to be redeemed. Exodus 13:2

“Consecrate to me every firstborn male. The first offspring of every womb among the Israelites belongs to me, whether man or animal.”

When an Israelite family redeemed their first-born son, they were acknowledging that this child belonged to God. So in an earlier version of my friend’s story, Jesus was brought to the Temple by his parents, obeying the law, and presented to God and the people.

Faithfulness – old/young,male/female

Joseph and Mary, relatively young, newly-wed, at the start of their life together, met Anna and Simeon, an older woman and – we presume - an older man. These four people had their faithfulness in common – they all listened to the voice of God, and followed the leading of the Holy Spirit.

Simeon, righteous and devout, had been led by the Holy Spirit to the temple that day. Anna had been a faithful worshipper, steeped in prayer in the temple, for eighty four yearsand was recognised as a prophetess.

Mary and Joseph had both listened to God and obeyed God’s word – they were keeping to the law. Simeon and Anna were faithful older people and I think Luke is showing us that this baby, this Messiah, was for everyone with faith, old and young.

Tribes

There’s an interesting little snippet of information between the lines here, for those early readers. Simeon is the name of one of the tribes of Israel, that by this time had been mostly assimilated into the tribe of Judah, an we are told that Anna was from another of the twelve tribes - the tribe of Asher – which by then was only a remnant itself, and had been assimilated into the northern kingdom by the Assyrians 700 years before.

So reading between the lines, this message of salvation is not just for men and women, for the old and the young, but for all the tribes of Israel, and it doesn’t stop there. Our readings today confirm that the message is for all Abrahams descendents, and also ‘a light for revelation to the Gentiles’ (us).

Psalm 24

Think for a moment about the parts of the story we have heard today in our various Scripture readings. Imagine what it must have been like for all those years to be part of a people yearning, praying, longing for the day of the Messiah. We’ve heard Psalm 24 today,

“The earth is the LORD's, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it; for he founded it upon the seas and established it upon the waters”

Imagine this psalm being sung in the temple. A song from those who are waiting for their Saviour? It expresses the longing of a people for God to bring justice and righteousness in place of the evils of this world.

“Who may ascend the hill of the LORD ? Who may stand in his holy place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who does not lift up his soul to an idol or swear by what is false”

Anna and Simeon were just such people, we know they were faithful, we know that they were waiting for the Lord to arrive, for the words of the psalm to be fulfilled,

“Lift up your heads, O you gates; lift them up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in”

Malachi

What must it have felt like to see the fulfilment of the prophecy in Malachi 3,

“suddenly the Lord you are seeking will come to his temple; the messenger of the covenant, whom you desire, will come,”

With its accompanying promises of righteousness restored, no wonder Simeon and Anna were filled with praise when they saw the baby Jesus, the vulnerable, helpless human infant.

Psalm 24 asks us “Who is he, this King of glory?” and answers itself, “The LORD Almighty - he is the King of glory”

Hebrews

And yet, our Hebrews reading confirms the other side of the story, that Jesus shared in our humanity,

“made like his brothers in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make atonement for the sins of the people. Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted”

Jesus came to save us, as Hebrews tell us,

“surely it is not angels he helps, but Abraham's descendants”

Nunc Dimmitis

So, a baby, fully God and fully human is carried into the temple, and Simeon cannot help but praise the Lord, in a song that we still use regularly in our daily worship because it applies to us as well – to every one of us that opens our eyes to see the light of the world,

“"Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all people, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel." ”

That light, for revelation to the Gentiles (us), is the reason why we light a candle today[single candle] – to remind ourselves that our eyes too have seen salvation, that Jesus is the light for revelation to the Gentiles. So today, we light a candle as a symbol of light that Jesus offers, to show us the way, to shine into the dark places in our lives, to show us what needs to be cleaned up, and to show us how to grow I love and unity as church.

In their old age Simeon and Anna recognized him as their Lord,

These two old people, so faithful in prayer, so open to the guidance of the Holy Spirit, as so many of our own older people are, are rewarded by seeing Jesus, and recognising Jesus as their Lord. No wonder they are celebrating. Wouldn’t you?

But, in the midst of the joy, as I said at the beginning, we end our Christmas celebrations with a hint of Easter. Simeon has a word of knowledge to share as he tells Mary, “A sword will pierce your soul too” and we get a sudden foretaste of the Passion to come.

But for today, we too can share the joy of Mary, Joseph, Simeon and Anna, who have recognised that God’s light has come into the world and say, with Simeon, “My eyes have seen your salvation”

Tuesday, 12 January 2010

An extension to the sermon?

Thank you to clayboy

...when this is placed beside the fact that much of this material is actually “horizontal” – telling the praying person what to think – rather than “vertical” – helping the worshipper address God, it increasingly becomes an extension of the sermon by other means...  read the rest here

Who remembers Boney M?

Who remembers Boney M? OK, so you won't admit to it, but I'm guessing that some do. I've bopped around the kitchen to the song, ""By the rivers of Babylon" without ever really considering the meaning of the words. I think that in 1978 I knew the words came from the bible, but not much more.  Let's see if you can sing along.



If anyone had told me that this song had great meaning for Jamaicans; that for some it was a reflection on their Hebrew history and on slavery, I would have been very puzzled. To an extent I still am. Because I don't carry a familial memory of slavery,and therefore my first point of contact with this Psalm was from a different perspective - that of anger and revenge.  But let's look, firstly at the words of the Psalm itself.


Psalm 137 (NRSV)

1By the rivers of Babylon— there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion.
2On the willows there we hung up our harps.
3For there our captors asked us for songs, and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”
4How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?
5If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand wither!
6Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth, if I do not remember you, if I do not set Jerusalem above my highest joy.
7Remember, O Lord, against the Edomites the day of Jerusalem’s fall, how they said, “Tear it down! Tear it down! Down to its foundations!”
8O daughter Babylon, you devastator! Happy shall they be who pay you back what you have done to us!
9Happy shall they be who take your little ones and dash them against the rock!
Here is the Jamaican version:



I think it's quite interesting that the songwriters have taken the first part of the Psalm, then added the prayer "may the words of our mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in thy sight here tonight".  Were they asking God to accept their lament?  Or were they sanitising this Psalm to miss out the nasty bits at the end?

This Psalm tells us how it feels to be defeated; how it feels to have fought and lost; to have seen killing and unspeakable cruelty, to thirst for revenge of the same kind. It tells us what it is like to be that bird in a gilded cage, and to be asked to sing for the amusement of others - to deny or hide one's own feelings for expediency; to be ridiculed and tormented, and expected to forget your own culture and assimilate with something that seems barbarous to you.  Babylon was a modern city in the desert with running water, lush with trees and rivers, and apparently impregnable. It was luxurious, but there was no temple in Babylon - the temple was in Jerusalem, and the inhabitants of Babylon worshipped other gods.

This isn't simply the story of people in the 6th century BCE; it is the story of all displaced peoples today, of those in slavery, of those who cannot live in the place they call home, of those who feel required to perform against their nature for others in business - for everyone who finds themselves in a 'foreign land', physically or emotionally.

We hear the lament of a dispossessed people; suffering the shock and trauma of discovering that the covenant that they thought would protect them as God's chosen people forever, did not stop the enemy from entering the holy of holies and carrying off the treasure from the temple, or themselves to slavery in a foreign land. The lament is deep and poignant. Their despair echoes through the centuries and sounds chords in us.

Let's look at the two key topics of the Psalm.

Firstly, the idea that God can't be worshipped from the ‘foreign land’, from where we are.

God's glory and majesty was believed to be centred in the holy of holies, in the temple in Jerusalem. That was where people joined together to worship, as God's chosen, special, covenanted people. Yet, when they were dispersed, did God remain in the temple, away from them? We know they thought they were being punished for not upholding their side of the covenant... and we know they found hope again - hope that was fulfilled.

14Sing aloud, O daughter Zion; shout, O Israel! Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter Jerusalem! 15The Lord has taken away the judgments against you, he has turned away your enemies. The king of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst; you shall fear disaster no more. 16On that day it shall be said to Jerusalem: Do not fear, O Zion; do not let your hands grow weak. 17The Lord, your God, is in your midst, a warrior who gives victory; he will rejoice over you with gladness, he will renew you in his love; he will exult over you with loud singing 18as on a day of festival. I will remove disaster from you, so that you will not bear reproach for it. 19I will deal with all your oppressors at that time. And I will save the lame and gather the outcast, and I will change their shame into praise and renown in all the earth. 20At that time I will bring you home, at the time when I gather you; for I will make you renowned and praised among all the peoples of the earth, when I restore your fortunes before your eyes, says the Lord. Zepahaniah 3:14-20 NRSV

This wasn't the only time that the people were separated from the centre of worship in the temple at Jerusalem - the Jewish people still are. We don't know the details of the whole process; how they moved through disbelief and grief to acceptance and new patterns of behaviour, but we know that the Hebrew people retained their history, their faith in God even when they thought God had turned away from them, and their covenant identity, while dreaming of worshipping again at Jersualem.

How did they discover that God hadn't turned his face against them, or remained in the temple alone and unworshipped, but was with them in exile, walking with them through the pain and darkness? Did they find other truths about suffering and recovery to sing as they journeyed?  What did that experience of growing in understanding of God do for their faith?

Do we sometimes think of God as distant? How does is change our prayers when we think about Jesus suffering and walking with us? Can we think of times when we have found God in unexpected places? That's a whole set of ideas to explore, and the experience of 'misplacing' our connection with God is one that many of us have been through. For a lot of us that isn't a permanent state, but the experience of coming through it can be liberating and faith deepening.

The second main theme here is the wish for revenge. It seems to be programmed into us as a default; even when I banged my head this week, my initial response was shock and anger that lasted for a few seconds while I worked out how badly hurt I was (not very!)

The last words of this Psalm speak of the fury of the helpless, of those who have witnessed horror, and who want to turn that shocked energy back in hatred.

We know that rage is a normal response as a part of the process of dealing with shock and grief. It is totally understandable, and many of us can identify with the feelings expressed, even though we might shy away from them. I think we should read these, recognise their raw honesty, and notice that these are words used in worship.

Lament is worship – it is about bringing our whole selves before God, just as we are, recognising the truth of our condition. When we have moved on, as our faith has, through Jesus and his teaching of love and forgiveness, then we can look back and say, ‘Yes, we have moved on, our relationships are different now, God has been faithful and has worked with us’. That’s a valuable lesson for all of us next time we are in pain.

We know that revenge is part of a cycle of destruction that rejects forgiveness, seeks retribution - to 'get even' - as if anyone can ever restore their loss by hurting someone else as they have been hurt. Pain can be exponential - Mahatma Ghandi said, "An eye for an eye and soon the whole world is blind"

Yet, there is another way; trauma can be healed - even in places like Rwanda today there is reconciliation. It’s a message that the peacemakers of the world are taking to troubled nations, and it’s one we need to apply in our own lives. Jesus commanded us to love one another, to love our enemy, he said, ‘Blessed are the peacemakers.’

That's one of the reasons why this is one of my favourite Psalms today. It speaks truth through centuries, about being human. And it marks a milestone in a journey of God’s people; a place that tells us where we are and how much further we have to go. It may be a point of rest, but it is a temporary rest. We must not mistake the milestone for the destination.

The words of this Psalm have a level of honesty that is necessary in our relationship with God, for when we  fully acknowledge where we are, and who we are, then we can let God deal with us and change us and heal us. 

And when God heals us of our own sense of being victims, and of our need for revenge, it enables us to use those experiences, to empathise with others, to redirect our anger to seek justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with our God.

Morning Prayer 9am Monday - with shovels

I arrived at the church yesterday for 9am Morning Prayer - normally there is a small turn-out for this service.  Well, the vicar was there, with a bright-red spade, and he had just started shovelling.

Only half an inch of snow fell on Sunday night (on top of the existing frozen slush and previously compacted snow) but the church is on a steep ungritted hill, and a funeral cortege was due to arrive at 10am. Vans and cars were struggling to get up the hill.

So Morning Prayer took on an entirely different form.

Three of us took part, with shovels... 40 minutes of hard work later and the curate had a bright red face, hair plastered to her head with sweat, and looked as if she had just run a mile in, oooh, twenty minutes. Time to finish grit-spreading, go home and do some desk-work.

Oops, we're missing a verger.  "Will you do the verger's job please?"

A sartorial clergy crisis ensued as it dawned on me that a FLM reject fleece and plastered wet hair (no, I didn't even have a comb with me) doesn't fit the 'appropriately dressed' part of the working arrangements. Luckily the funeral was 20 minutes late starting, and Penny lent me a hair-brush (Thanks!).

Later that day I realised I'd also dropped some food down the front of the fleece... (I wonder when I did that?) Next time I'll put on a cassock to cover the inappropriate clothing, but I only thought of that half-way through the service.  Biretta anyone?