More importantly...

More importantly…

Luke 2:22-35

For the last two weeks, we’ve listened to Matthew, the writer who wanted to reach out to a Jewish audience.  This morning, I want to switch to Luke, the writer who wanted to speak to the Gentile world, too.  Matthew tells us about magi following a star and the dreams of a new father.  Luke tells us about the birth of a child and the way the world’s expectations were turned on their heads.

Luke, who wants to talk to us all, focuses on a universal experience:  the birth of a child.  For most of us, when our child is born, there is a huge desire to “hunker down” and just revel in the joy.  Start with the miracle that the two of us have made a third human being!  Add to that the fact that everything went okay and that mother and child are safe.  We made it home safely from the hospital.  People taught us what we needed to know and brought us food.  At some point, our child actually slept through the whole night!.  Your heart melts.  You take it all in, but you don’t have the words to describe what you feel.  For now, all you can do is shake your head and say, “This is amazing!”

This is where Joseph and Mary are before our text.  The shepherds are gone.  They are no longer living in that barn.  If we take Matthew at his word, they’ve moved to a house in Bethlehem.  They are immersed in the afterglow.  I like to think that they did what new parents always do.  They sat and stared at little baby feet and tiny baby hands. They held their baby tight to their chest and smelled that amazing baby smell that you only get to smell if you bury your nose in the back of their necks.  They just sat and looked into their baby’s eyes as a whole tiny hand wrapped around just one of their fingers.  Later, you will wonder who your child will be some day. Today, though, for a brief window of time, it is enough that they are here with you right now, safe and sound.  You are together and that’s what matters most.

Then, of course, even though we’d love nothing more than to just keep staring, there is work to be done.  Some of the tasks come with being a parent: dirty diapers and spit up rags and pajamas, none of which are going to wash themselves. It also turns out that we still need to account for the basic necessities of life:  eating and sleeping and vacuuming and taking out the trash.  Then, there are a few other, deeper needs.  When will we bring in the relatives to meet our child?  How will we introduce our child to our community, to our church, to this world?

For Joseph and Mary, their faith—Judaism—required them to observe two rituals.  Because their child was a boy, eight days after the birth, they were required to have a Briss, a ritual circumcision, a ritual that had been observed by Jewish men for centuries.  Part of this ceremony included officially naming the child.  This is when the baby was named Jesus.  Identity in the culture and identity as this person with this name who is part of this faith are powerful things.

The second ritual was a purification rite, which involved restoring the purity of both the mother and the child.  Thirty-three days after the child was born, the family went to the temple and offered their child to God, just as Abraham had offered Isaac.  In the Abraham and Isaac story, God accepts the sacrifice of a lamb, instead.  So, in the ritual, the priests also accept a substitute sacrifice, usually a year-old lamb (which would have been conveniently available for purchase at the temple.)   Because this was an expensive sacrifice, there was also a more affordable option offered to the poor:  the sacrifice of two doves or two pigeons. 

Let’s step back and observe a few things.  First, think about how much of the story of Mary and Joseph for Luke is the story of these people following the rules.  They go to Bethlehem because Roman law requires them to do so.  They go to the temple at 8 days and 33 days because the religious laws require them to do so.  They are doing exactly what they are expected to do.  They are fulfilling the law.  And yet, even as they are doing what’s required, something entirely unexpected happens.  These surprises make fulfilling the law almost an after thought,  

Joseph and Mary go to Bethlehem to be counted.  However, what really counts is that their son is born exactly where he was supposed to be born, in the place where the Messiah was supposed to be born.  Angels sing. Shepherds quake. The baby’s in a manger and “no crying he makes.”  All of this happens while everyone else thinks the biggest thing happening is Rome’s new law.

Yes, they were fulfilling the law at their son’s Briss. In doing this, Jesus joined centuries of Jewish men before him.  However, what they were really fulfilling was God’s calling to name their son, Jesus.  Even the religious laws pale next to a higher calling. Confronting the religious laws was this child’s destiny when he became a man.

Finally, they return to the temple for the purification rites which the law requires. Now, it is possible to dismiss these purification rites as pure chauvinism.  Anyone who thinks that a woman giving birth makes her impure seems to me to have completely missed the miraculous fact of growing a baby for nine months and then laboring to give birth really is.  How many of the men in history who considered women inferior ever did that? Maybe in leu of being able to give birth, the guys in charge just determined that this whole birth thing must be more of a problem which women would need their rites to correct. 

I’ll just point out here that Jesus, himself, would grow up and pay very little attention to all sorts of purity laws.  He touched people that you weren’t supposed to touch, shared food with people  who you were never supposed to share food with, and touched dead bodies, which was everyone’s worst nightmare.  People, especially people with power, got really angry at him for this.  He didn’t care.

I’ll also point out that patriarchy was in no way the private domain of our ancestors in faith.  An awful lot of cultures have treated women poorly.  Our ancestors in faith showed an amazingly consistent knack for blaming women for a great deal of what was wrong in the world, including the inability of men to manage their impulses.  (“How could Eve do that to poor Adam?”  “What was Bathsheba doing bathing on that roof in the first place.”)  I think we still pay a price for being rooted in a faith where women were suspects and the physical and sexual parts of human life are by definition, “soiled.”

Still, here’s a weird effect of these purity laws.  They essentially gave women a maternity leave.  They were not allowed to have contact with all sorts of people or do all sorts of things   until the purification rites took place.  The upshot of that was that they got to be home with their baby and be relatively undisturbed.  While I wish with all my heart that our tradition had treated women better from the start and not given license for centuries following to treat women poorly, this must have been a cherished time for a new mother.  I wonder if there were women who asked, “Can’t we just put off going in for this ritual a little longer?  If this is what being ‘unclean’ means, maybe I’m not all that opposed…”

Joseph and Mary and Jesus show up to be purified. They follow the law.  Interestingly, Luke doesn’t make any mention of the blue-blood possibility of sacrificing a year-old lamb.  He just jumps straight to the fact that Mary and Joseph are sacrificing a pair of birds.  When he does this, he is signaling to his audience that these people are common people.  As such, they are exercising the “poverty clause.”  Still, they showed up. They did what was required by law. Then, the most amazing thing took place…

This sweet old man walked up to them, the kind of guy you just trusted, partly because of his age and partly because of the twinkle in his eye.  If you’d been around the temple for long, you would know that his name was Simeon.  He was a temple going kind of guy—harmless enough but a little bit suspect, too.  You see, everyone knew that he had something happen years ago that convinced him that he was going to actually see the Messiah in his own lifetime.  (Doesn’t every faith community have the guy who takes things just a bit too seriously?) Everyone knew Simeon’s story because Simeon told everyone.

Luke tells us several things about Simeon.  First, he’s a really faithful guy. He’s the real deal.  Luke also tells us that Simeon had actually been promised by the Holy Spirit that he would really see the Messiah with his own eyes.  (I wonder if anyone who met Simeon ever entertained the notion that he might be telling the truth?)  Reflexively, we all doubt the guy who believes something that seems crazy.  Everyone is always going to think you’re a little nuts.  Maybe you even have a day or two where you question yourself.  Still, though, from the day Simeon receives that promise, his eyes are open and searching every person:  “Is that person right there is the one?”

Here’s the thing…looking at every person you meet as a potential Messiah would change a you over time.  You’d learn to see more than a person’s gender or age or clothing.  You probably wouldn’t dismiss anyone. You’d look deep into people’s eyes.   To tell you the truth, even if you spent decades meeting people and realizing that they were not the one, I bet you would meet some amazing people anyway, just because you were open.  Now that I think about it, Simeon’s way of walking in the world with a sense of hope and with a sense that every person matters is pretty close to how Jesus would walk this world thirty years later, right?  Jesus sees the people in need on the edges of the crowds because he is looking for them the whole time.

Luke tells us that Simeon was led to the temple that day by the Holy Spirit.  That’s even better than setting a reminder on your Apple Watch!  Simeon took care of things from there.  Think about it…I bet he never thought he might be looking for a baby!  Still, his eyes locked right onto the child.  Without really asking, he takes the child into his arms. (Mary and Joseph must have been taken aback!)  And then he announces to everyone in earshot that his wait is now over, this child is the one! God’s promise has been fulfilled.  Now, he can finally die in peace.  It’s such a lovely Hallmark moment—if only that was the end.

Things do not end there. Simeon looks Mary straight in the eye.  His words must have haunted Mary for years:

“This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too.”

Mary and Joseph thought they were going to Bethlehem to register.  More importantly, they had their baby in just the right place—a barn in Bethlehem. They went to the temple for a Briss. More importantly, they rose to God’s calling and named their child, Jesus.  Finally, they went to the temple to be purified. More importantly, though, they heard Simeon’s truth:  “Your child is ‘the one’ and that’s an incredible thing. With one look in your eyes, I can see how much you love him.  Know this:  not everyone will love your son.  This child is going to break your heart.”