Advent & Men, Part 5: “Simeon”
December 31, 2023
Luke 2:25-38
Pastor Mike
At the beginning of Advent, I opened this sermon series with the question, “What is the good news of Jesus’ incarnation for men and boys?” It’s a question that matters for all of us because of the fear and the pain that many men carry forward out of their boyhoods and that they, in turn, even against their best intentions, bring upon others. But God has drawn near to us so that we, like those shepherds on Christmas, those men dwelling in the night far off from community – so that we might be brought to the very center of salvation’s story, with things to see and things to say.
Along the way, as we’ve explored Herod and the Magi, the prophet Zechariah, and Jesus’ adoptive father Joseph, some overarching themes have come to light. We’ve noted the difference between relating to the events of life out of a controlling mode versus a receptive mode, the difference between reacting to an inner stirring with fear and receiving it with the anticipation of joy. We’ve seen that there is a difference between living righteously according to the letter of the law and living righteously in a moment-by-moment responsiveness to the Spirit. And we’ve felt the power of the gifts and the blessings, the songs and the dreams, that flow from men to those around them when they have released themselves by faith into the flow of the Spirit.
From the day I first sketched out these sermons in my journal, Simeon has felt like the fulfillment of the series, the center of gravity, an example of redeemed manhood appearing to us as the Christmas stories draw to a close.
Like Zechariah and Joseph, Simeon is described as righteous, but his is already a living and receptive righteousness: the Holy Spirit rests upon him, and he is guided by the Spirit’s promises and nudges. Simeon’s spirituality is already communal rather than individualized as he “[looks] forward to the consolation of Israel.” He lives his life in hope for his community’s coming salvation, and this must have felt at times like a naïve hope, given Israel’s ruthless occupation by the Romans. He does not try to control his circumstances or bring about the fulfilment of his hope; instead, the Spirit has told him that we will not see death before he sees the Messiah, and Simeon is at peace going about his days in a kind of in-between condition.
Like Zechariah after he is deprived of speech and the Magi during the long months of their journey, Simeon goes about his days in a sanctified silence, a silence that is watchful, alert for signs of grace, and preparing to speak blessings. When the day finally arrives and he meets the Holy Family in the Jerusalem temple, Simeon takes the infant Christ in his arms and blesses him. He does not shy away from telling Mary the truth about who her baby is and the turmoil that will one day engulf him. He says what is true, not what is easy: “This child is destined for the rising and falling of many… and a sword will pierce your own soul, too” (2:34-35).
But before that heavy word, Simeon offers his famous prayer to God:
Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace,
according to your word,
for my eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
a light for revelation to the gentiles
and for glory to your people Israel.
In Christian tradition, this poetic prayer has come to be known as the Nunc Dimittis, and for the better part of two-thousand years it has enjoyed a place of privilege in the worship and devotional lives of vast numbers of Christians. Nunc Dimittis are the first two words in the Latin version of the song: Now you are dismissing…
And what a remarkable quality of character that those two words reveal about Simeon. He is a man who has spent a lifetime awaiting the Messiah. He has the faith to receive the fulfillment of that promise in a baby and does not feel in any way cheated by only glimpsing the humble beginnings of his people’s consolation. And then he has the humility to dismiss himself, to be at peace with what he has received and slip away from the story, into an acceptance of his death.
For these reasons, the Nunc Dimittis has become a nighttime prayer. In the Bible, sleep is a metaphor for death. When we go to sleep, we enter into our most vulnerable, most receptive state. Simeon’s words help us say that we’re okay with that. At the end of every day, those who pray the Nunc Dimittis say to God that they are at peace with the day ending, that they in some way have glimpsed the presence of Christ, the unfolding of salvation, and can therefore rest in peace.
Simeon gives us a picture of God in that moment, prefiguring what Jesus himself came to do. Jesus has come recognize the good in us, to hold us tenderly, and to bless us with the truth. And his love for us is made concrete when we share it with others.
In preparing for today, I was startled to discover a surprising parallel in Luke’s Gospel between Simeon, toward the story’s beginning, and Joseph of Arimathea, towards the story’s end. You may remember Joseph of Arimathea as one of the “minor characters” from the summer; he was the man granted permission by Pilate to bury Jesus’ body after the crucifixion.
Here’s how Simeon is introduced in Luke 2: Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon, this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel (2:25). And here’s how Joseph is introduced in Luke 23: Now there was a good and righteous man named Joseph who, though a member of the council, had not agreed to their plan and action. He…was waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God (23:50-51). Both men are introduced with as similar formula; they are righteous and waiting to receive a better future.
In Luke 2:28, Simeon “takes” Jesus in his arms to bless him, while in Luke 23:53, Joseph “takes” Jesus’ body down from the cross to wrap it in cloth and lay it in a tomb. In both cases, the Greek word for “take” is the same – dekomai. These men touch Jesus’ body in order to care for it.
Finally, Simeon’s self-dismissal clears the space for Anna, the old, widowed prophetess who has spent the bulk of her life faithfully praying in the Temple, to become the principal witness of the Christ child to the city of Jerusalem. Similarly, Joseph’s actions clear space for the women who have followed Jesus since Galilee to gather at the tomb and become the first witnesses of the resurrection.
On one end of the story, a good man holds and blesses baby Jesus; at the other end of the story, a good man holds and tends Jesus’ broken body. Now, the actual beginning and ending of Luke’s story are miracles – the miracle of the incarnation and the miracle of the resurrection. But, in between the miracles, Jesus enters vulnerably into the difficulties and sufferings of human life, and he is met on either end of that hard road by these men who have been waiting for him and who choose to care for him.
“What is the good news of Jesus’ incarnation for men and boys?”
It is that Jesus, by coming to us as a fragile child, can awaken the minds of men to see themselves in him and to know that they, in their brokenness, are loved, that everything they have suffered has been gathered up into the life of God and redeemed.
It is that Jesus, by coming to us in such humility and beauty, can stir the hearts of men to receive those around them who need care, not to remove all danger or control all circumstances, but to provide the blessings and the companionship that will clear the ground for miracles.
As one year gives way to another, may Jesus be a light of revelation to us. May no more men, no more boys, see death until they have beheld the salvation of our God.
In the name of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. Amen.