The Feast of the Presentation

Posted by stpauls on February 7, 2010 under Sermons |

[This sermon was written by Presiding Priest, the Reverend Lois Boxill and delivered on February 7, 2010.]

The long-anticipated Olympic winter games are here. Final preparations are being made at the various venues – the courses are being groomed, the clocks and technical equipment are being put through their last paces, many of the officials and athletes have already arrived and are settling in to what will be their homes for the next 2.5 weeks, the volunteers and security forces have been deployed and final preparations are being made for the crowds; many guests and special dignitaries have already started to put in appearances at various hotels and eateries in Vancouver. The city is alive with palpable buzz and Olympic fever is in the air.

The Olympics is after all, a presentation – the presentation of Vancouver as a world class city hosting world class guests from around the globe. For the next month, we as a city will host many of the world’s finest athletes. Men and women who have toiled – often out of the sight of others – and worked tirelessly to rise to the top of their chosen careers in sport. The world will witness, with sights and scenes from this amazingly beautiful place you and I get to call home as backdrop, the world’s finest in pursuit of excellence. And we will welcome our guests, as one welcomes guests into one’s home, with the very best we can offer. It is, after all, a presentation.

But what do I mean by this word, presentation? As a starting place, I went to the dictionary to find that this noun had no less than eleven definitions. To start, we have the most accessible definitions – presentation, an act of presenting; presentation, the state of being presented; presentation – a social introduction, as of a person at court (in our parlance, as of a person at a party or gathering); then there is presentation – an exhibition or performance, as of a play or film; or presentation (as used in today’s gospel), an offering, delivering, or bestowal, as of a gift. We even have the definition of presentation, as gift itself. And then there is presentation – a manner or style of speaking, instructing, or putting oneself forward.

In a sense, one could say that Greater Vancouver and Whistler have been working on their respective presentations in this last sense of the word since the announcement that the cities would play host to the world’s Olympic Winter Games back on July 2, 2003. When we think of presentation, it is natural to think about outward appearance and impacts. Putting one’s best face forward so as to create a good impression. Acting in a certain way so as to gain favor. And dear brothers and sisters in Christ, I am here to tell you this morning that there is absolutely nothing wrong with any of these things. There is absolutely nothing wrong in the desire to present our best selves or to create a positive impression of ourselves in the minds of others. But I’m also here to tell you that this is just the beginning and is only a small part of the story.

In today’s gospel, we read Luke’s account of Jesus being brought as a child to the temple in Jerusalem. His parents did this to fulfill the requirement of the law of Moses that the first born son be presented to the Lord and designated as holy, and to offer a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving. Mary and Joseph, dutiful Jewish parents, bringing their baby boy to the temple to fulfill their religious obligations. Here, my intention is not to slight either Mary or Joseph’s intentions, but rather to point out that what they did for Jesus was precisely what other Jewish parents would have done for their first born sons. But as we know, there is a twist to this story.

As Mary and Joseph proceed with custom, old Simeon sparks to life and reaches for the young boy child. Imagine Mary and Joseph’s surprise at this. Then as now, it was probably the last thing they would have expected, that an elderly man should engage them this way. What on earth could be up with him? Then Simeon breaks forth in what has become known as the Nunc Dimittis or Song of Simeon still known to many in the words used in the 1662 BCP as follows:

“Lord now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace according to thy word for my eyes have seen thy salvation which thou hast prepared before the face of all people. To be a light to lighten the Gentiles, and to be the glory of thy people Israel.”

Truly, what could have possessed this Old Man? Then, the story, goes, Simeon blessed them and told Mary that the essence of who Jesus was would result in the rising and falling of many in Israel, and that he would be a sign that would be opposed, and in so doing, reveal the inner thoughts of many. He also told her that her very heart would break.

Two thousand years later, and we know that everything that old Simeon foretold that day would come to pass. But beloved in Christ, let us consider more deeply, the elements of Jesus’ presentation as grounds for expanding our understanding of the sorts of presentations we make during our lifetime.

First of all, the presentation of Jesus was innate. To anyone else looking on at what transpired among Mary, Joseph and Simeon, it might have appeared to be an unexpected encounter between an ordinary Jewish family and a wizened old man who had somehow acted out of place. Yet, what overcame Simeon that day was recognition of the essence of who Jesus was – the same essence that led the child in Elizabeth’s womb to leap as Elizabeth stood close to Mary who was carrying Jesus in her womb at the time. Mary and Joseph came that day to present Jesus and their offering to the Lord. And in return, they were presented with knowledge that would amaze and challenge them for the rest of their lives. This seemingly ordinary little boy was the promised one of God. This little boy would reveal the hearts of many. Through this little boy would come the salvation of many. This little boy would comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. This little boy was, himself, the fulfillment of the Law. Jesus was himself the presentation.

Second, the presentation of Jesus was ordinary. At first, this assertion may be confusing especially given what I just said. The presentation of Jesus was ordinary in that it happened when Mary and Joseph least expected it. They weren’t expecting their world to be changed that day. They were simply doing what good Jewish parents would do. And yet, in the midst of the ordinary, they were confronted by the real presence of God. First through Simeon’s move to engage them – “Mary and Joseph, you don’t know me, but I know this child. He is the promised one. He is the savior of mankind. He is the Lord.”

Presentation – here in the midst of us; in the midst of the ordinary. No special events. No anticipated encounter with wealthy donors. No expectations of grandeur. Just doing what they should, Mary and Joseph had the identity of the child they loved and cared for revealed to them.

Third, the presentation of Jesus represented a paradigm shift – a reorientation of the direction of giving and turning the story on its ear. Mary and Joseph came to Jerusalem that day to fulfill the law – to present their son Jesus and to offer a sacrifice of two birds. They came to make a presentation – they came to make the expected or required outward profession of faith. When Mary and Joseph left the temple that day and returned to their home from Jerusalem they realized that God had made a presentation to them. Regardless of whether they believed what old Simeon had said that day, they were reminded that they were the ones who received the gift. They were reminded that they were the ones who would nurture this boy to adulthood. Yes, it was truly amazing all that Simeon had foretold, but even without it, they were reminded that the child in their care was precious to the Lord.

Innate, ordinary, and reorienting – are these hallmarks of the various presentations of our lives? Is what we present externally consistent with the essence of our being? Or is it merely for show? Do we really love and care for each other, or is this simply lip service paid when we think others are watching or listening? Are we the same people in private as we are in public? To use a phrase I have liked ever since I heard it: Would my dog or cat be proud of me at all times? Funny as that may seem, how would each of us answer the question if asked this way: Is God proud of me at all times? Is all I do pleasing to God? Is all we do collectively pleasing to God? Is the way we treat our neighbours, the creatures of the earth, or the gifts of creation, pleasing to God? What is the essence of our presentation? Will we come to find that a gulf exists between fact and storyline? Between the external and the internal? Or between essence and spectacle?

Is our love of neighbor conditioned upon what opinion others have of us or what they might think of us? Is our concern for the poor fuelled by guilt or isolated triggered responses to tragic events or circumstance? Is what we speak with our lips lived through and through by the essence of our lives? In our absence, are we described as people of integrity? As people of heart and meaning? As people who preach the gospel and only when necessary, use words?

The enthusiasm and hope that kindles within me during every celebration of the Olympics (regardless of whether I happen to live in or near the host city, follow the news leading up to, or the medal count during) stems from a deep desire that every single day all humans would seek to celebrate the divine spark (the very best) that dwells within each of us. Rich and poor, black and white, fuzzy or scaley, marginalized or mainstream – it is a hope that we all realize that we are but one body, and one flesh, and one spirit. We are one. When one of us thrives, we all thrive. When one of us succeeds, it is testimony that we can all succeed.

The Olympic flame is a torch of freedom, of excellence, of spirit. As Christians, the essence of this flame is entirely consistent with our symbolic representation of the light of Christ piercing the darkness of the Easter morn. We know that there is a part of each of us that is so much greater than we could ever think or imagine. That light is kindled in each of us, and we know deep down that nothing can put it out.

Sometimes it is hard to acknowledge this and live into what already is, but is no less true. We know that the light will shine in the darkness, and the darkness will not, and cannot overcome it.

So beloved in Christ, as our city makes its presentation, let us be mindful of our presentations – our ways of being in this world. Let it be said of us, “truly, they love one another” and not because of anything they told us, it was evident in all that they are. Let the proof be in the pudding. Be truly as good as you are. And dear ones in Christ, don’t think for a minute that what I am asking is impossible or unattainable for us humans. My invitation today is not to be other than who you truly are – which means that each of us indeed will fall short from time to time. We will do things that we ought not to do. We will say things that were better left unsaid. We will think things that are hurtful and unkind. But do not let our failings be the final entry. Our shortcomings are not the sum of who we are. We are children of the light – so walk in the light. We have been given amazing gifts – and in this part of the world we call home, we have been given so much to be thankful for. I have called this place home for just over three years now, and I know that I still live in a postcard. There is nowhere we can go to escape the beauty of God’s creation – especially in this place. To whom much is given, much is expected.

So to each you I say, make your presentations! Present yourselves as servants for the good of others. Live as though you are loved, because you are. There is no lack, so give. There is no lack, so love. There is no lack, so be. May we seek to honor the flame within, this day, and always. Amen.

Malachi 3:1-4, Psalm 84, Hebrews 2:14-18, Luke 2:22-40