Simeon’s Song: A Peculiar Carol
“Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy Word;
for mine eyes have seen thy salvation which thou hast prepared in the presence
of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.”
(Luke 2:29-32; RSV)
Over the past few days, while pondering the upcoming Gospel text for this weekend (Luke 2:22-40), from St. Luke’s nativity narrative, a question came to my mind that I’ve never really thought of before. Here’s the question: “After all the festive celebrations of candlelight services last Sunday on Christmas Eve, services that included the singing of uplifting carols such as Angels We Have Heard On High or Joy To The World … and after all the exchanges of brightly colored presents and fun-spirited time with family and friends … well … what-in-the-world are we doing here in this gospel text, talking about death?!” Huh? After all, St. Luke’s account of Simeon’s troubling song is simply haunted by the specter of death. Right? And so, alongside the other Christmas carols we’ll like be singing this weekend, this one sounds peculiar if not flat-out odd, almost dissonant (to use a musical expression). So, let me ask the question very simply, once more: “What’s all this talk about death doing in the middle of our Christmas celebrations of birth and new life?”
Many of us know all too well, how the loss of a loved one makes this Christmas Season particularly difficult. And most of us are reminded of those we’ve loved and lost simply by singing a stanza from a hymn, the touch of a favorite ornament or an absent stocking on the mantle, the taste of peppermint stick … some fleeting but vivid memories of Christmases past. Well, guess what? Simeon’s no different. He’s an old man now (note the marvelous depiction of Simeon as interpreted by Rembrandt). And Simeon’s been around the block more than a few times. And so we can imagine that he’s tasted love and loss, joy and despair, hopes and fears, just like you and I. And so he sings of death simply because he can’t help himself, because he, like us, lives with death every day. “Thou sure and firm set earth; Hear not my steps, which way they walk; For fear the very stones prate of my whereabouts” (Wm. Shakespeare’s Macbeth; II,i,56).
But, take note here. This is more than merely stark realism. For St. Luke is clear that Simeon is able to speak of death so honestly only in the light of the coming of the promised Messiah; only, that is, by the con-fidence (“with faith”) that in this helpless child, God has come to redeem Israel and save the world (cf. Paul Tillich’s “Love Is Stronger Than Death” in The New Being, p.172-174). “Lord,” Simeon sings, “now you can let your servant go in peace; for your word has been fulfilled.” Simeon perceives, you see, that in the Christ Child, God has kept God’s promises (e.g. Isaiah 7:14; 9:1-7). That in this new-born baby, set for the rising and fall of many, God has acted “once and for all” (Romans 6:10; Hebrews 10:10; I Peter 3:18) to address the question and specter of death with the promise of new life.
Thus, we continue to sing Simeon’s Song, all these many years after the events of St. Luke has recorded for us, simply because it bears witness to God’s great love for us – a love that even death cannot destroy (Romans 8:37-39). For, like Simeon, we also need to hear and see (the proclamation of God’s Word) and touch and feel God’s promise (receiving the Holy Sacraments of Baptism and the Lord’s Supper), the promise that God will be with us and for us forever, the promise announced in the birth of that holy babe in a manger, now held lovingly in Simeon’s arms and ours. I hope to see you at worship this weekend, in hearing God’s Word for you; yes, to set the New Year upon a solid foundation …
A Blessed Christmas to you and Hope-filled New Year.
Dr. John Christopherson
Senior Pastor
Christmas Presence
Christmas Presence
Shining
Upon You Now
and Throughout the New Year
A few days after Christmas, now some twenty years ago – while our little family was still living in Bozeman, Montana – I read the closing line from an obituary in the local newspaper: “On June 10th, 1939, she married. … And the couple lived together in Bozeman their entire lives.”
Her name was Anne Dornbos. She had been a widow for many years, living alone in a little house, without any family. In recent years, it had become something of a tradition for Cathy and I to pack the kids in a small sled and pull them “over the river and through the woods” … across town … to deliver Christmas cookies and cinnamon rolls to Anne. But this year, Anne was Home (among the heavenly host) before we were able to make our delivery to her house on South Willson Ave. “And the couple lived together in Bozeman their entire lives.”
For some reason, this closing line from Anne’s obituary still strikes a chord deep in my heart, with the abiding warmth of the true Christmas Spirit. Perhaps it’s because Cathy and I had come to cherish the calm, cradling mountain majesty of the Rockies over the chaos of The Big City (our former Chicago life) and all of its supposed “culture” … the sense of simplicity that transcends complexity … or enjoying, as we do again in Sioux Falls, the open prairie land of the Dakotas and the down-to-earth folks who reflect the honest humus of our humanity. Like a Per Hansa or Beret of an O.E. Rolvaag novel. Yes, such giants in the faith who still roam the earth.
Deeper still, this homing, warming “comfort and joy” has to do with the sense of being wrapped once again in the serene serendipity of swaddling cloths spelled-out in, of all places, an obituary: “And the couple lived together in Bozeman their entire lives.”
Isn’t this what the God-named-Emmanuel finally reveals most fully to us in the Christmas event and let’s shine into the upcoming season of Epiphany Season? For you see … the baby Jesus couldn’t get into an inn (Luke 2:7c) – not even the Holiday Inn? This comes from the Old Testament prophet, Jeremiah who says: “Who am I? Am I just a traveler on this land who stays at an inn?!” … Jesus couldn’t get into an inn, you see, because he’s not a traveler. He’s not just movin’ on. He has to be born on earth because he’s not going to pack-up and leave the next morning. This is a permanent presence – a gift of God in person, con carne, “God deep in the flesh” (Martin Luther; cf. Luke 2:7; John 1:14; Colossians 1:15-20), for all our human frailty and need.
Yes, indeed … in person! … here’s the good news of the Gospel (cf. Mark 1:1)! There will be no walking out of God’s promised presence, no walking out of the covenant. There will be no abandonment – for all who feel lonely, left behind, outcast. This is not some tourist. This is One who is born on earth. And the reason that Jesus – the Christ Child – couldn’t be born in an inn is because the only people who stay in inns are people who move out. They stay a night and then they leave. But “this, this” (v.1 of “What Child Is This?”) does not leave. And we have God’s personal, incarnate Word on it – from cradle to cross. O, heav’n and nature are still singing! “And the couple lived together in Bozeman their entire lives.”
In the Spirit of this Christmas and Epiphany Season … wherever you are, wherever you may go in the New Year … may the light of Christ “SHINE ON YOU” and be gracious to you (Numbers 6:25) – knowing that you are never alone (Psalm 23:5; Matthew 28:20b; John 14:18f). For the One named God-with-us, Emmanuel is always with you. “And they lived together in Bozeman [Bridgewater, Beresford, Bogota, Berlin, Bergen, Bangladesh, Bethlehem …] their entire lives.”
As a family of faith, among the people of First Lutheran Church, and beyond … our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, calls us to share his life and light (John 1:1-5; 8:12) … which breaks into a resounding song: “Joy to the world!”
A Blessed Christmas and Hope-filled New Year,
Dr. John Christopherson
Senior Pastor
Expect God’s Favor!
Expectation is a big part of what Christmas has become for many people. There is an air of entitlement in our expectations as well. Many come to expect all they could want will be waiting for them under the tree on Christmas morning. Those absolutely perfect gifts you expect will be delivered.
The underlying tone of this expectation is receiving favor. To receive favor is best described as preferential treatment shown by somebody. When we receive favor from someone else, we take on a connection with them. But we also know what it feels like not to be favored by someone; cast aside, of no value.
The words declared by Isaiah break into our own existence and declare that good news has come for those that are burdened or oppressed. To expect the Lord’s favor. However, when we hear this, our minds can go to work in two ways. One, we would ask: What is the Lord’s favor and how do I get it? And we set off on the zealous task of trying to gain God’s favor for ourselves. Or more likely our skepticism kicks in and we take a good look around and say, “Yeah right. With all that I am suffering, how is God showing ME his favor!”
“The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news…” The good news is that God never leaves those whom he favors, and those he favors are those whom He has revealed his Son, Jesus Christ. To know his favor is to know your sins are forgiven, and that your identity is found in Jesus Christ. His favor is known in faith, and in the calling, gathering, and enlightening through the work of the Holy Spirit and his Word so that in those times in your life when you struggle, he equips you through faith in Christ to have hope and peace, and that you will see the light of Christ even in your darkest places.
In this Advent time, we wait for God’s promise of his favor to come….in the form of a baby lying in a manger. Expect God’s favor!
What shall I cry?
Waiting is more than just standing in line at the supermarket wishing everyone would hurry a little bit. That can be annoying, but at least there is an end in sight. Waiting in a much deeper sense is enduring suffering, wondering when help will arrive. That's the situation the prophet Isaiah is sent to speak about in our Old Testament scripture this weekend. In the midst of exile, stuck in a far off land, the people of God are trapped in a generations-long wondering about when, or if, any help will come to them. There they sit on the edge of despair as a conquered people without power, strength, will or resolve to change their fortunes.
We all know something like this. Trapped between what we wish and what we experience, stuck with the knowledge that we lack the power to make things as we like. Yes, we don't like to admit it and we do a marvelous job convincing ourselves that there is something better just over the horizon – if just we could make it that far. "Just put one foot in front of the other and we'll make it there together" is our hope until even those hopes are dashed. A crushing disease, or a terrible accident? Enormous expectations, or unrelenting abuse? When there is no hope left in us, then who will come and help? What shall I cry?
This is Advent, when those who wither like grass wait upon and watch for the coming of Christ Jesus, as we hear God speak to the stuck, trapped, and oppressed, "Comfort. Comfort. Comfort. I am coming for you."
Pastor Lars Olson
Keep Awake
Dear Friends in Christ,
Here we are, at the start of what the church calls Advent* and the world calls The Christmas Season. In this weekend’s Scripture readings, however, we do not encounter visions of sugarplums or the sound of sleigh bells. Instead, we hear cries of lament and suffering from the prophet Isaiah: “Oh, that you would tear open the heavens and come down!” the prophet wails. And then in the Gospel reading, Jesus warns that this age is quickly coming to an end, and we are to be alert and ready. He says, “Beware, keep alert, for you do not know when the time will come. Keep awake.” (Mark 13:33, 37b)
To “keep awake” is to live with the intensity of living in the last days, while still tending to the good work God has given us. Surely you have been asked a question like, “What would you do if you knew you only had a month to live?” Your priorities would sharpen, your awareness would be heightened, you wouldn’t take so much for granted. However, living with this kind of intensity for an unknown period of time is, frankly, not possible. Gratefully, Jesus has given us more than exhortations, teachings, and warnings to help us keep our focus. By his coming into our world, by his death on the cross and triumphant resurrection, he gave us his very own life to hold onto when our faith, our trust, our hope, our own life reaches its limits and comes to an end.
Once, Martin Luther was asked what he would do if he believed the world would end tomorrow, and he responded, “I would plant a tree today.” When Jesus bids us to live awake, on the watch, he is calling us to invest in the present and trust in the future that God alone holds. So let us live awake, alert, attentive to what God is doing through Jesus Christ – the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end of all things. He was and is and is to come. Amen!
Pastor Katherine
* P.S. The season of Advent is not only counter-cultural, but mysterious to Christians of all ages as we embrace themes such as waiting, hope, preparation, and anticipation among the “busy-ness” of this world. Concordia Publishing House has produced a 2½ minute video which serves as a lovely introduction to the season. I invite you to view it here.