
Presentation of Our Lord
Three cheers for the old fogeys.
In my little lifetime, I think I have begun to see the first glimpse of a recovery of respect and concern for those folk who are ‘mature years’. Maybe you’re familiar with some of those charming TV shows where there is a cross-fertilisation of generations in nursing homes. Primary school and youth visit and engage with senior citizens in all sorts of formats, games and opportunities.
Today, along with Mary, Jesus and Joseph there are two such folks who are the knockout stars of the gospel. Simeon and Anna are stalwarts of the synagogue, have much to teach us and they are old.
Like many who have several decades under their belt
They know how to wait, they know how to pray and they know to tell anyone who will listen, to the good news of God in the temple.
Simenon and Anna saw the messiah amid the hubbub of the temple. Seniors see things that the rest of us miss.
Further, they know that this life is not all there is. They know that there is more to come after they have taken their last breath and are finally released from the trappings and restrictions of the 21st century they blossom into angels and saints.
Old people have come to know how much they need God and how much we all need each other.
Part of the good news of Anna and Simeon is not only that they recognise the messiah in the midst of the hubbub and busyness of the synagogue, but they know how much they need him.
And when we are younger and spritely and trying to save the universe and sorting out the Church of God this is something we are not always aware of.
We need each other in order to completely be the person we are called to be and we especially need those who we have never met before and those who might come to our temple who really aren’t quite sure of the moves and rules. And they might feel rather afraid. Will they be spotted as a stranger? Will people be looking round and scrutinising them and saying 'They obviously don't belong here; they don't know what to do'? Here are all these people (that's us) apparently doing strange things without giving it a second thought. We know the moves, we know the rules, and they don't. Rather like going into a club whose rules you don't know and a school whose habits you don't know (if you're a child): so the Church feels too many. It's bizarre, it's eccentric, and it is frightening.
They might be unsure if they need us, But boy, we should know that we really need them.
- Rowan Williams put it this way
So all of us have some good news. And the good news is really this: in the infinite variety of voices singing praise in God's universe, your voice – trained or untrained – is as welcome as anybody else's. And the language you speak is a language we all need to hear. Because to be part of that overwhelming, overflowing abundant fellowship, is to recognise that no part of it is complete or alive without the others. In the letter to the Hebrews, the writer speaks of all the great heroes of Israel's past; and then says, 'Without you, these people would not be made perfect.' All the great giants of biblical history: Abraham and Moses, Joshua, Gideon and Samson: are all waiting for you to join them because without you their joy and their fulfilment are not complete. It's as if when you turn up into the fellowship of God's people, Abraham comes across to you beaming all over his face, asking ‘Where have you been all my life?!’ The great heroes, the great saints, the people we think we have very little in common with — they want our company too, because God wants our company and God wants each one of us to grow into maturity, fulfilment, and love in that fellowship. So Abraham may have been a man of exemplary, outstanding, unimaginable holiness, courage and devotion, and yet he still needs me and you to make him completely Abraham.
And as we think back across the years of our church’s existence, and the witness that's gone on here, we might think of all those people who have served God with exemplary devotion and courage and sanctity, all looking at us and saying, 'Where have you been all my life? I need your voice, your friendship and your fellowship to be myself.' Out of that deeply unlikely exchange, the holy fellowship is born: everyone, happily and gratefully, in need of everyone else; each one of us waiting expectantly and joyfully for what the neighbour can give; not only the neighbour here and now in this act of worship today, but our neighbours through history and our Christian neighbours in the future. This is not an easy idea to get your head around, and yet we are also the people that future Christians will need, and we'll need them, that's the nature of the fellowship into which we are drawn, and that is holiness, the not being without one another. It is the relationship that makes us who we are, because ultimately the holy God we serve and love, the holy God who comes among us in this temple is a God of relation, Father, Son and Holy Spirit: Amen.