Saturday, December 30, 2017

Wisdom from a Dying Friend (Simeon's song) ~ Luke 2:22-35



He entered the temple at a feverish pace, particularly for an old man with arthritis and heart problems. He wasn’t sure what drove him but he awoke with a desire, actually more like an ache, to get to the temple. All he knew was that he needed to be there, needed to see something and that maybe what drove him was God – but of course, he’d been wrong before. He pushed his way in among the many who came, scanning the crowds, mumbling a prayer for help and his eyes settled on a poor couple. He could tell by their clothes and the sacrifice they held – a pair of turtledoves – which was an offering for those who couldn’t afford the proper sacrifice. But their poverty was merely an afterthought, for what really mattered was that they absolutely shimmered and as he stumbled toward them he began to weep – this was it, this was God’s promise that he had waited for so long to see – and with a startling amount of emotion he stood in front of them, plucked the baby from Mary’s arms and sang a prayer, “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word. For mine 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.” Mary and Joseph were stunned – so was Simeon. For now he also just realized something else, something quite surprising – he was going to die. He chuckled a bit to himself how all this must look but in a moment of clarity that only dying can give, he paused for a moment, looked squarely at Mary and Joseph . . .



1.     “Then Simeon blessed them . . .” Friends, Simeon understands that life is short and hard. His advice is for us to bless others first while they’re still alive.

The word “bless” in Greek is eulogeo (yoo-log-eh'-o). It’s where we get our word eulogy (a compound word in the Greek which means “good word.”). But here it’s the dying man who eulogizes the living. Simeon has seen and known God’s blessings, he has heard from God, seen his salvation, worshipped him but understands that we still haven’t done all that we need to do until we have blessed those of the next generation. He’s not like the grumpy old man from past Saturday night life skits - the embittered archetypical grandfather figure who would complain about the state of the world, mainly in regard to many modern conveniences. He would say things like “In my day, we didn't have safety standards for toys. We got rusty nails and big bags of broken glass! That's the way it was, and we liked it! We loved it!”


No, that’s not Simeon. He knows how hard life can be so he doesn’t complain or compare but prays for this couple, let’s them know of God’s love, declares to them the good news that there is a light to see, to know God. There is a light to guide. It’s found by looking to this baby. 


We need more Simeons. Not those given to fear or panic, or nostalgia, but who listen, who honor the younger ones, who speak eulogeo “good words.” If you are older – we need grandparents of the church to realize that you still have a job to do – to bless us, to eulogize others while we are still alive. Who are your Mary and Josephs? If you are younger – remember that your elders have “good words” for you, blessings to give. Look for and listen to your Simeons.



2.   But a blessing is not all Simeon has to say, “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” Following this baby will be hard and will have its ups and downs. He will show us what God is like, what we should do, and help us realize that we often won’t want to do it. 

Now the warning label comes out on this gift. Yes, salvation has been declared, God’s victory and peace have come / are coming – but we won’t always like it. This is where our Christmas songs tend to lack a bit on the truth meter as far as the Bible goes. They’re not exactly echoing the songs we find in the New Testament nor do they make sense of the horrific violence and political turmoil of the world Jesus was born into. While our songs may invoke hopes of “peace on earth, goodwill toward men,” and even snow (snow?), Simeon’s song (along with Mary’s and Zechariah’s) sets forth specific images of the proud and powerful dethroned, the lowly raised, an infant who will be “opposed,” and “spoken against.”
 
Most Christmas songs never give us what we should be looking for: a “crucifiable” Jesus and a God who represents and does something so provocative to make people murderously hostile. In the movies, Jesus is either a hippy peace-child or a first-century success story trafficking in Joel Osteen like best-sellers “Your Best Life Now: 7 Steps to Living at Your Full Potential.” Listening to society and most church folk, you’d think He come to make us feel good, to help sell stuff, to offer us heaven but not much else. Why would anyone want to oppose or hurt a guy like that? Because He’s so successful and annoyingly cute? I don’t think so.


What does Simeon and Mary, one chapter earlier, sing about? Not about a Jesus who doesn’t cry or a white Christmas with lovely snow. She sings about the Lord’s mercy to those who fear Him, His generosity to the poor and hungry, His hostility to the proud and rich. She sings about a political overturning of the way things are. And Simeon adds one more accent to this reality – he won’t be like you suspect, he won’t do it exactly as you want him to, and he will expose how you truly feel about God’s work. 

And friends, I’ve found that be true in my own life. This Jesus has raised me up and laid me low. He has exposed my greed, my meaningless God-talk, my pious prayers with little to no action or change of life. This baby reveals God in the concrete and how I often sort-of-like God in the abstract. He exposes how I want following Jesus to be a sign of success rather than a sign of opposition. Simeon reminds us that Christianity is not a “better religion” but a faith that declares Jesus is Lord. And always remember – they killed him for it. This baby is dangerous.


3.    “And a sword will pierce your own soul too.” Finally, friends, Simeon reminds us that if you are a Christian you will suffer. It’s not your fault, he says. Those who are truly in love with Jesus always do.


Christmas is a story of love about a baby. And who doesn’t love babies? But sentimental love about a cute baby will not sustain us for long. No, loving anything truly in this life, no matter how good, will lead you to suffer. In fact, it’s that suffering that will help you know whether it’s real love or not. The love of God is announced as a declaration of love from a brutal cross of suffering. Our love in response can be no different.


But even so, why tell anyone that they will suffer? It’s such a bummer and hardly what you might want to say to new parents. As I thought about this truth – this is what I came up with – if we don’t tell Christian brothers and sisters that suffering is par for the course, they will inevitably think that their suffering is because they’ve done something wrong. That’s where our minds go – when we suffer we imagine that we are being punished. And Simeon wants to remind us, “No, doing the right thing, saying your prayers, even being the mother of God on earth, won’t save you from hard things.” Being God didn’t keep him from suffering. But there’s also an upside – what you suffer for can reveal what you truly love. Until that time you’re a spectator, a dabbler, a lover in the making but not the real thing. It’s only when you suffer that you become a lover.


I have a friend who’s mad at God. It really hurts. He’s frustrated that God hasn’t answered his prayers as he wanted, he’s angry about abuse that his wife encountered at work from colleagues who conspired behind her back, and is disheartened by her Christian boss who simply looked the other way while his wife, with all the courage she could muster, exposed to him the awful working conditions under which she performed her job. He’s upset and has every right to be. I’ve felt my role was to listen, to not judge, to bless him and his wife for their courage and faithfulness. I fear my friend, however, is truly mad because he blames himself. He fears that he didn’t do it right, pray the right prayer or with the right amount of faith. He wonders if his suffering has any meaning at all. And Simeon has reminded me that I maybe I should say one more thing to him and maybe one more thing to you – “I know it hurts. I’ve been there too. But now it’s known that you truly love Jesus. You don't suffer because you did anything wrong. You suffer because you did everything right! When you follow Jesus a sword will pierce your own soul too. But it will be made right in the end. Go in peace.”