Presentation of Christ in the Temple, 2017

Luke 2:22-40

Last Sunday we reflected on the frequent experience of being overwhelmed. Today, I want us to focus on the Holy Spirit. Before we look to our Gospel reading, I want us to circle around it with reference to two other stories from the Bible.

The first is far older, from the early chapters of Genesis, and the account of the flood. The cradle of civilisation has been overwhelmed by floodwaters from horizon to horizon. Noah and his wife and their sons and daughters-in-law have been cooped-up in the ark for forty days of rain falling, and a further one hundred and fifty days of flood, and forty more days of floodwater receding. Noah sends out a raven, that flies to and fro, and a dove. The dove finds nowhere to land, and so returns to Noah, who waits another seven days and sends the dove out again. This time, the dove returns with an olive leaf in its beak. Noah waits yet another seven days and sends the dove out again. This time the dove does not return, and Noah understood that it was at last time to go out from the ark and for life to begin again.

The second story is set some thirty years after our Gospel reading. Jesus is now an adult, and comes to the Jordan to be baptised by his relative, John. As Jesus comes up out of the waters that have overwhelmed him, the heaven opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” The Spirit then led Jesus in the wilderness, and then through Galilee.

So now let us turn to our Gospel lesson, the account of Jesus’ parents bringing their recently-born son to the temple for the first time, in order to fulfil the requirements of the law. And here we are introduced first to Simeon, and then to Anna.

We are told that the Holy Spirit rested on Simeon, that the Holy Spirit revealed something to Simeon, and that the Holy Spirit guided Simeon. We are not explicitly told the same thing in the same words about Anna, and yet all of these acts of the Holy Spirit are implied in her story too.

Here is an old man who has lived through overwhelming, devastating events in the life of the people of Jerusalem; and an old woman who has experienced such things at a very personal level. They have both gone through the flood, as it were. And as the floodwaters begin to recede, God’s Holy Spirit searches for somewhere to land, somewhere to rest on the face of the earth – a resting-place – and finds Simeon, finds Anna. And the Holy Spirit rested on them, as on an olive branch, as – later – on Jesus. And the Holy Spirit reveals to them a word that speaks of Jesus, a word that brings forth peace within them, peace whatever happens, because God’s salvation has come. Come what may. And the Holy Spirit guides them to see that salvation for themselves, to experience it first-hand, and so to proclaim it to others.

Simeon and Anna. And elderly man, and an elderly woman. We have one or two of those in our midst. And you, like them, were created to be a resting-place for God’s Holy Spirit on the face of the earth. As it is, you are made from the dust of the earth and animated by the breath of the Spirit; you are sustained by the Spirit; but this was always intended to be a relationship, marked by resting and working together, by our being drawn deeper into the mystery of God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

So how might we invest in that relationship? What might we learn from Simeon and Anna? Their lives are shaped by devoting themselves to being in unbroken relationship, as far as it depended on them, with others, choosing to love God and their fellow human beings (righteous and devout; fasting and prayer and praise).

We are told that Simeon was ‘looking forward to the consolation of Israel.’ That is, even though – or perhaps because – things weren’t good, he held on to God, held on to hope, and pointed to that hope. Like an olive tree on the side of a submerged mountain. Perhaps, like the cross that is erected on Tunstall Hill each Easter, overlooking the city of Sunderland; a hill that was once under a prehistoric sea.

Simeon is looking forward, to the consolation of Israel. And when it comes, or rather when he comes, Jesus brings peace, even in the midst of turmoil and the face of opposition and the costly reality of soul-piercing pain. Jesus brings light in the dark places, that brings revelation to all peoples and glory to the people of God. And it may be as messy and perilous as life spilling out of the ark to flourish again, but this is how God has chosen to make all things new. As the Collect for the Season of Epiphany expresses it: ‘Almighty God, in Christ you make all things new: transform the poverty of our nature by the riches of your grace, and in the renewal of our lives make known your heavenly glory; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.’

What might it look like for the Holy Spirit to rest on us, to reveal things to us, to guide us? I think that if we are to discover the answer, the discovery begins in prayer. Prayer for the people of Sunderland, and beyond: that those who mourn might know consolation; that those who are facing the end of life might know a peaceful end; that those in darkness might see God’s glory reflected in our faces. Prayer that moves us to action, to console, to be peace-makers, to be light-bearers. And action that brings us back to prayer, because we cannot be any of these things apart from the animating power of the Holy Spirit.

At the beginning of Lent, over 2nd-5th March, bishops from all over the northern province are coming to Durham Diocese with the Archbishop of York to join us in a mission we are calling Talking Jesus. The Anglican churches across Sunderland will be hosting a wide range of regular activities and special events, as an opportunity to speak to people about Jesus, either informally or in more formal presentations. Activities we will be hosting include showing the film ‘I, Daniel Blake’ at the university media centre on the Friday evening, followed by a discussion on the issues the film addresses; taking the Archbishop of York on a city-centre walkabout on the Saturday – I’m sure he will drop in on our craft and vintage fair – and our Fairtrade Fortnight ceilidh on the Saturday evening; and our Sunday morning services, followed by a Lent lunch.

Between now and then, I’d invite you to pray for the mission, for all the different ways the churches of Wearmouth Deanery will be finding to listen to people speak about their lives – their losses and challenges and hopes – and to speak about our lives, and to talk about Jesus, God’s salvation. To pray every day between now and then, that is for four weeks.

And I’d invite you to come along, to one thing or another; and to ask the Holy Spirit who you might invite to come with you. Together, let’s learn how to share simple testimony about what we have seen and known – not answers to all the unanswerable questions life throws up! – so that like Simeon, like Anna, we might speak about Jesus to those who are in need to consolation, peace, and light. Amen.