Sermon for the Presentation of Our Lord (February 2, 2025)

Gospel: Luke 2:22-40

In today’s passage from Luke we read of the presentation of Jesus in the Temple. It’s the time when his parents take him to be circumcised and he receives the name offered months earlier by the archangel Gabriel during his visitation to Mary: “… you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus.”

But within the first presentation we find a second … and then a third. Simeon was living with a two-part prophecy given to him by the Holy Spirit: the promise of seeing the Messiah, but the fulfillment of that promise also marking the end of his life. When Jesus is brought into the Temple, Simeon sees him and knows the promise has come to fruition.

He has seen the Messiah.

As he holds the child in his arms, in his moment of joy, Simeon acknowledges the second part of the prophecy: “Master, you are now dismissing your servant in peace.” You said I’d see the Messiah before the end of my life. I have, and now I’ll rest.

It’s interesting that in the icons and paintings portraying Simeon holding the child, he’s shown as an old man. The text doesn’t reflect that. The writer of Luke doesn’t refer to him as an old man who was righteous; nothing says he was a devout man of advanced years. He is simply a righteous and devout man. But Anna … Anna is a woman who’s waited many years for this moment. Specifically identified as a prophet, she does what a prophet does: she proclaims. There’s no interaction show here between here and Jesus. She simply comes into the Temple and begins praising God and the child.

Jesus is presented in the Temple. Jesus is presented to Simeon. Jesus is presented through Anna. One scene, three presentations.

But wasn’t the entire life of Jesus a series of presentations? From birth to ascension, through the journeys and words of his apostles, and even through our words and actions today, Jesus is presented to the world time and time again. What’s remarkable is that each moment of presentation is unique. Each time Jesus is shown to the world is one-of-a-kind. While each is rooted in the overall message of salvation and the coming of the kingdom, each presentation has a different impact – and those collective impacts are rooted in words a clergy friend shared with me a few years ago, words that crystalize what Jesus was about.

As my friend said, “Jesus came into the world to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.” Jesus came into the world to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. Open any of the four Gospels to any chapter, and one of these – comfort or affliction – is taking place.

Let’s look first at instances when the presentation of Jesus afflicted the comfortable. Herod for instance felt safe in his role as a local king and servant of Rome; he enjoyed his position and his wealth. Then Jesus was born – Jesus was presented to the world – and it all changed. This Messiah – this king – was a threat to Herod’s comfort, so much so that in Matthew’s Gospel we read that Herod ordered the murder of every male child two years of age and younger in and around Bethlehem. His status was threatened. His comfort was afflicted.

Last week we read about Jesus presenting himself at his hometown synagogue. He was with those who knew him; he grew up among them; he was part of their community. In front of that community he read from Isaiah about the coming of the Messiah and then told them that what he read had been fulfilled in their hearing. But while the pericope for that reading ended at that verse, the scene didn’t. He goes on to talk about prophets not being accepted in their hometown and about how he knew they wanted to see signs of what he did in Capernaum. In this moment of presentation, they become angry and try to throw him off a cliff. Their perception of him was challenged through a challenge to what they wanted. Their comfort was afflicted.

A rich man once came to Jesus and asked what he should do to have eternal life. Jesus presented his answer – he presented his truth – by saying first that he should keep the commandments. The man seems to throw that off with a shrug; I do that already – and then he pushes a bit more: what else? Jesus continues: Sell everything you have; give it to the poor; follow me. The man turns and walks away; the writer of Matthew says he walks away grieving – grieving because he had so much. His wealth was threatened. His comfort was afflicted.

There are other instances. The Pharisees seeing their influence and power challenged by the presentation of Jesus to the world, so much so they schemed to kill him. At his trial before Pilate, the people of Israel screamed for the release of Barabbas and the crucifixion of Jesus. They wanted the known over the unknown. Their certainty was threatened. For each group, their comfort was afflicted.

But then think of the many, many people who experienced the opposite when there was a presentation of Jesus: the afflicted who were comforted. The blind man who had his sight restored. The possessed man being split apart inside by evil spirits, made whole when they were driven out. The woman about to be stoned by the crowd receiving grace and forgiveness. The dead little girl who was brought back to life and the dead Lazarus who walked out of his tomb. Those who lived at the margins, both physical and imposed by society, who were invited to be with Jesus. Time and time and time again, the presentation of Jesus brought hope out of suffering … joy out of sorrow … life out of death. Their afflictions were comforted.

So what about us? Here’s where we have questions to wrestle with. When Jesus is presented to us in new, unexpected, or surprising ways, how will we respond? Will we respond as one whose comfort is being challenged, responding as Herod, a rich man, a Pharisee, or a neighbor looking for the closest cliff to throw someone off? Or will we respond with joy as those whose discomfort is being soothed – responding as Simeon and Anna, the blind man and the leper, those raised from the dead and those whose old, damaged lives have been restored?

Will we toss aside those moments without consideration or reflection because we’re made uncomfortable, or will we accept each as a gift to cherish and ponder – and perhaps even find comfort? Will we scornfully ignore those moments, or will we joyfully embrace them?

In her book Traveling Mercies the writer Anne Lamott said, “You can safely assume you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.” When Jesus is presented to us in new, unexpected, or surprising ways, are we uncomfortable because it’s not the Jesus we want – the Jesus we’ve built up ourselves – or do we rejoice because it’s the Jesus we need – the authentic Son of God?

When the presence of Jesus and the words of Jesus cause discomfort, don’t blame the messenger; instead, reflect on what it is about the message that is challenging. Conversely, when the presence of Jesus and the words of Jesus cause you comfort and joy, don’t focus on giving thanks for the messenger; instead, take time to reflect on what it is about the message bringing that comfort.

My prayer for you is that regardless of your immediate response to the presentation of Jesus, you will always end singing the words of Simeon: “My eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.”

Amen.