The Feast of the Presentation of the Lord at the Temple (Mal 3:1-4; Ps 24:7-10; Heb 2:14-18; Lk 2:22-40)

This is nothing scientifically studied, but there are these two behaviors that I think we all have in common if our eyesight is still good. It’s about light. Here’s the first behavior: imagine this situation that you’re sleeping in your dark, dark room, and someone without any warning turns the light on. You’ll most likely frown. This light isn’t always welcome, especially if you’re enjoying your sleep and rest so much in your dark room. You’ll probably hide your face in your warm and cozy blanket. Now it’s the second behavior we might have in common: if you’re getting enough sleep and are ready to get up, sunlight coming through your window would be a gentle invitation to your new day. Light is a tricky thing. It can be either something so warm and inviting or something that is being frowned upon. 

As we celebrate the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord at the Temple, which is usually called ‘Candlemas,’ we have begun today’s service with the lighting of the blessed candles. The story behind this celebration is rather simple. It is to proclaim that Jesus is the light of God. He’s the light that is not just a mere natural phenomenon of electromagnetic radiation. When we say Jesus is the light, we want to say this light which flows from Jesus is uncreated. This light of Jesus is the source of all light in the world, God shining upon us through Jesus. 

Now, you might wonder what this symbol of light got to do with today’s gospel lesson, presenting a 40 day old infant Jesus to the temple. What’s the relationship between Jesus being light and Jesus being represented in the temple? We actually have to go through some biblical background to get this metaphor of light right. Let’s start with this tradition of presenting the firstborn to the temple. This tradition goes all the way back to the Book of Exodus. It’s specifically instructed in Exodus 13:2 where it says, “Consecrate to me all the firstborn; whatever is the first to open the womb among the Israelites, of human beings and animals, is mine.” But why? What does this mean? The answer comes in 13:15: “By strength of hand the Lord brought us out of Egypt, from the house of slavery.” It is to remember that God liberated the Israelites from slavery in Egypt. 

In this act of presenting the firstborn to the temple, the parents not only remember God’s work of liberation from slavery in Egypt but also remind themselves and their future generation of their darkest moment and God’s faithfulness in history. They were once in the darkest place but God took them out of suffering. God shed his light upon them, overcoming all the darkness therein. St Luke’s gospel lesson we heard this morning comes from this Exodus tradition, telling us the story of Joseph and Mary presenting their son Jesus. And Simeon sings what we just said together as we processed into the sanctuary: “Lord, you now have set your servant free * to go in peace as you have promised; For these eyes of mine have seen the Savior, * whom you have prepared for all the world to see:  A Light to enlighten the nations, * and the glory of your people Israel.” (BCP, p. 93) 

What this tells us is that Jesus is the embodiment of God who liberates those in slavery. He opens the closed door of darkness, slavery, or the impossible. His presence in and of itself is the light of God revealing not just some things but literally everything in this world. Those who feel locked up in darkness will no longer be there because there is no place where the light of Christ does not reach. This light of Christ revealing everything, especially what’s deeply hidden in our hearts, in our world, however, may not be welcomed by all. We all carry our own darkness, yet who among us would like to talk about it? Who would like to share it? 

Simeon is very aware of this paradoxical nature of the light of Christ that reveals everything. Simeon who once praises Jesus as the light of God thus warns Mary, “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.” Jesus will reveal all the inner thoughts of many, of the world. He will be opposed for that very reason. And he was. He was crucified and killed. As I mentioned in the beginning of this homily about light being so tricky, if you’re open to the light of Christ that shows what’s in your heart, you’ll welcome it because that light heals you. But if you’re so stuck in that darkness, too ashamed to share with Christ, too guilty to be revealed by the light of Christ, you will try to hide it with something darker. But however you want to darken it, it doesn’t work. The light of Christ gets brighter and brighter. I resonate with Plato who says, “We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when we are afraid of the light.”

So, here’s my question to all of us. What are we looking at in ourselves through the light of Christ? What’s revealed? We need to see ourselves truthfully. What do you really see? And what darkness are you trying to hide or avoid or ignore? Are you afraid of the light of Christ? My friends, do not be afraid of the light of Christ. Welcome him. Invite him. Let him look what’s hidden in your soul. At first, it might be felt like a sword piercing your soul or going through refinement of silver. Nobody likes to be vulnerable. But through that vulnerability, through those wounds of darkness, the light more vividly shines. Let Christ’s light heal your wounds. We not only look at ourselves as in a mirror through the light of Christ but must not forget that this light heals all our wounds of vices. 

Only then, we can go out to the world, carrying not darkness but the light of Christ. And with this light of Christ, we are graced, we become God’s gift to the world. Think of yourselves as a wounded healer. Your wounds are healed by the light of Christ. And you’re to be a gift as someone who is healed and is gifted to heal. Hans Urs von Balthasar, a priest and a theologian, said “What you are is God’s gift to you, what you become is your gift to God.” And this was the theme of our diocesan convention. 

The light of Christ does not just reveal what’s in your hearts. It also reveals and exposes what’s hidden in our world. At our diocesan convention, Bishop Carlye mentioned about all the darkness in our society: white, middle-age suicide spiked 40% in the last 10 years, how much black parents are afraid of their black son being killed when they are pulled over by the police, and black mothers die in childbirth at three times the rate of white mothers. So we got some work to do, seeing ourselves as wounded healers, as gifts of God to the world. And how do we do that? I’m going to repeat Bishop Carlye again, because I firmly believe she is right. She says, “Build a community.” We want to build a community that is not afraid of the light, that is not afraid of being judged imperfect, but letting our wounds be healed while willing to heal others. We must start within ourselves to build this community of love. I invite all of us to participate in this mission of God at Saint Agnes Church. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.