December 26: The First to Recognize the Messiah
♫ Music:
Day 25 - Wednesday, December 26
Simeon and Anna: The First to Recognize the Messiah
Scripture: Luke 2:25-26, 34-38
And behold, there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon; and this man was righteous and devout, looking for the consolation of Israel: and the Holy Spirit was upon him. And it had been revealed unto him by the Holy Spirit, that he should not see death, before he had seen the Lord’s Christ. And Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, “Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), so that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed.” And there was a prophetess, Anna, the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was advanced in years, having lived with her husband seven years from when she was a virgin, and then as a widow until she was eighty-four. She did not depart from the temple, worshiping with fasting and prayer night and day. And coming up at that very hour she began to give thanks to God and to speak of him to all who were waiting for the redemption of Jerusalem.
Poetry:
On Hierophany
by Karen An-Hwei Lee
One example of hierophany is the apparition of angels.
This is a new word I overheard this morning. It occurs
when the divine realm manifests — or the word intrudes —
into our quotidian realm. The natural one, an untidy
fleshliness of the ordinary. Or the sacred and profane
is another way to say this. I asked whether it is a hernia,
and the answer was no. A herniated condition is viscera
on viscera — a disc, organs, the skin, or nerves. Besides,
such a comparison would be profane. A figure of speech
already exists, I said, in a hieratic silence of cursive
writing long ago dead. Not long ago, those two phrases
dwelled in separate worlds. I dare you to use the word
hernia in a poem, said a friend. So I not only used
the word, I invited God into language. Or God existed
before language, while God is also the word. Remember,
all theophanies are forms of? hierophany. However,
the converse is not always true — not all hierophanies
are theophanies — or God visible in our world.
THE FIRST TO RECOGNIZE THE MESSIAH
Look at Anna’s hands, raised in delight.
Anna spent a short time in her life being loved by a husband, and then, ever after, she spent her days in the temple, learning to be loved by the Lord. (And that, of course, is how we also learn to love Him—because He loves us first.)
Look also at Simeon, who was looking for the consolation of Israel—and who found Him.
Simeon and Anna are New Testament saints, of course, but in a real way, they are Old Testament saints: what we know as the Old Testament was all the scripture they had.
And yet it was enough. They knew it, and so they knew the Lord.
They also knew enough to know that there was yet more glory to look for, and they spent their lives in the temple, waiting for it.
Look again at Simeon’s words: “Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), so that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed.”
Simeon’s words tell us that seeing God is either disaster or delight, and there is no in between.
(Though there is sometimes sudden change: look, for instance, at St. Paul, and the light he saw on the Damascus road. The man Paul was before is not the man he was after.)
Today, December 26, is St. Stephen’s day, the day we remember the first martyr of the church. (Paul, of course, looked at Stephen as Stephen died—and Stephen, at the time, was looking up at Christ.)
Christmas Day is over, but Christmas the season lasts for twelve days, and so it’s really only day two of Christmas. But now the party is done, the pressure is off. We’ve given the presents and we’ve seen our families and we’ve gone to church...but we still have the feast in front of us. We have the next ten days of Christmas before us, and we can give them all over to wonder.
So do give these days over to wonder: look at this mystery of the incarnation--as Anna looked, as Simeon looked, as Stephen looked, as Paul looked—and wonder at it.
Wonder at it, and rejoice!
Rejoice in the kindness of the Lord, who did not leave us alone in our loneliness and our damnation and our fear, but became one of us, the greatest making Himself the smallest, the Creator becoming a child who could be wrapped in blankets, who could be circumcised, who could be held in His mother’s arms, who could be delighted over by the widow, who could be seen by the prophet.
Look at the mystery with awe, with reverence, and with wonder. You have these days, the darkest days of the year, to do it in. In the dark, in the deep, look up at the light. In the quiet, in the still, let your heart contemplate, let your mind ponder.
If you need to repent, then repent, so you can feast without fear.
If you need to take heart, then take heart: your Lord has come to you and is ever ready to save.
If you need to be comforted, then be comforted: the Lord is good, and He knows our sorrows and our struggles from the inside, as one of us.
And He can bear them—as we never could, and as we still cannot.
And if you are ready to delight, then delight. Because all joy and all feasting and all laughter and all goodness are there in the face of the One who has loved you with an everlasting love. Throw up your arms like Anna, turn your eyes towards heaven like Stephen, and delight your soul in the goodness of the God who is our God, and who is our guide, even unto death.
And then unto life anew.
Forever and ever.
Amen.
Prayer:
Lord, in your mercy, show us Yourself, and make us fit to bear the sight. May we delight in Your goodness and mercy, and may that very goodness and mercy be our strength and our joy. We ask this for the sake of Jesus, our Lord and Savior.
Amen.
Jessica Snell
Class of 2003
Editor of Let Us Keep the Feast: Living the Church Year at Home.
About the Artwork:
Presentation in the Temple, ca. 1060
Mont-Saint-Michel Sacramentary
Illumination on vellum
184 leaves (1 column, 20 lines); 11 ¼ in x 8 ½ in
Mont-Saint-Michel, France ca. 1060
Morgan Library, New York, NY [MS M.641 fol. 18
Purchased by J.P. Morgan (1867-1943) in 1919
This rendering of the presentation of the infant Jesus in the temple is at the bottom portion of a page in a Latin Sacramentary, a book used by the priest with text and musical notation required for celebrating the Mass, was made by the scriptorium of the Abbey of Mont-Saint-Michel. In the complete illumination, the event is depicted under an architectural canopy suggestive of the temple with the city beyond. A female attendant and Joseph hold two pairs of doves brought for sacrifice in their draped hands, as Mary hands Jesus to Simeon. The blood-red cruciform halo that identifies Jesus as the Christ, his hand held up in a gesture of blessing as he is passed from Mary to Simeon across the altar, marks him as the perfect, willing, and unblemished sacrifice that will be made for the salvation of the world. Behind Simeon, the Prophetess Anna stands and turns with arms outstretched in exuberant praise and recognition of the arrival of the Savior of the World. The unusually large hands of Jesus and Anna are common to the art of the period, but also draw attention to their response to this event.
The Benedictine Abbey of Mont-Saint-Michel rose in importance during the Norman Conquest. In the eleventh century, when the Abbey was built on the rock off the coast of Normandy in France. A pilgrimage site for both England and France, the Abbey’s scriptorium and its illuminators developed a distinctive Romanesque style influenced by both regions. Characterized by drawn line, active drapery, and dramatic poses, in a pale but still bright color palette, this Sacramentary is the most lavish manuscript from Mont-Saint-Michel. The illumination accompanies the Collect of the Feast of Purification of the Virgin, also known as the Presentation of Christ in the Temple.
About the Artist:
Unknown
About the Music:
“Magnificat Cum Alleluia” from the album Vox De Nube
Lyrics
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
Magnificat anima mea Dominum,
et exsultavit spiritus meus in Deo salvatore meo,
quia respexit humilitatem ancillae suae.
Ecce enim ex hoc beatam me
dicent omnes generationes,
quia fecit mihi magna,
qui potens est, et sanctum nomen eius,
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
et misericordia eius in progenies
et progenies timentibus eum.
Fecit potentiam in brachio suo,
dispersit superbos mente cordis sui;
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
deposuit potentes de sede et exaltavit humiles;
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
esurientes implevit bonis et divites dimisit inanes.
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
Suscepit Israel puerum suum,
recordatus misericordiae,
Alleluia! Alleluia!
sicut locutus est ad patres nostros,
Abraham et semini eius in saecula.
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
[Translation]:
My soul magnifies the Lord
and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior.
For he has regarded the lowliness of his handmaiden.
For behold, from henceforth,
all generations shall call me blessed.
For he that is mighty has done great things to me,
and holy is his name.
And his mercy is on them
that fear him throughout all generations.
He has shown strength with his arm.
He has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
He has put down the mighty from their seat
and has exalted the humble and meek.
He has filled the hungry with good things
and the rich he has sent away empty.
Remembering his mercy,
he has helped his servant Israel
as he promised to our forefathers,
Abraham and his seed forever.
About the Composer:
Anonymous
About the Performers:
Nóirín Ní Riain and The Monks of Glenstal Abbey
Nóirín Ní Riain (b. 1951) is an Irish singer, writer, teacher, theologian, and authority on Gregorian chant. She is primarily known for spiritual songs, but also sings Celtic music, Sean-nós, and Indian songs. She performs with her sons Eoin and Mícheál Ó Súilleabháin under the name A.M.E.N. and gives workshops about sound and music as a spiritual experience. As she developed as a performer, Nóirín focused particularly on religious, Irish traditional, and international religious music. When she was a child, Nóirín often visited Glenstal Abbey to listen to the chants of the Benedictine monks which deeply influenced her musical stylings. Later, she performed and made several recordings with the monks, under the trilogy: Vox Clamantis in Deserto (Caoineadh na Maighdine), Vox Populi (Good People All) and Vox de Nube (A Voice from the Cloud). She earned her PhD in theology with a thesis entitled The Specificity of Christian Theosony , an in-depth study and representation of sounds—primarily vocal sounds—as a means to religious experience from a Christian perspective.
The Glenstal Abbey is a Benedictine monastery located in Ireland and situated beside the Glenstal Castle, a Normanesque castle. The Abbey is known for its activities in art, music, and religious studies. The Gregorian chant is an integral part of the Benedictine monastic experience, forming the core of the Church‘s daily offices as they are chanted by the monks from morning (Matins and Lauds) through Mid-day Mass to evening (Vespers and Compline). Organ improvisation, as it is heard in this recording, is often used in the liturgy at Glenstal, to capture the mood of the liturgical action through spontaneous embellishment of the Gregorian melodies.
About the Poet:
Karen An-hwei Lee (b. 1973) is a Chinese-American poet, translator, and critic. She earned an MFA in creative writing from Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island, and a PhD in literature from the University of California, Berkeley. Lee has received six Pushcart Prize nominations, the Poetry Society of America's Norma Farber First Book Award, the Kathryn A. Morton Prize for Poetry from Sarabande Books, and the July Open Award sponsored by Tupelo Press. Lee’s work appears in journals such as The American Poet, Poetry, Kenyon Review, Gulf Coast, Journal of Feminist Studies & Religion, Iowa Review, and IMAGE: Art, Faith, & Mystery. The recipient of an NEA Fellowship, Lee currently serves as a Professor of English at Vanguard University of Southern California in Costa Mesa, California.
About the Devotional Writer:
Jessica Snell
Biola Class of 2003
Editor of Let Us Keep the Feast: Living the Church Year at Home
Jessica Snell is a writer who graduated from Biola University and the Torrey Honors Institute in 2003. She’s the editor of Let Us Keep the Feast, a book about celebrating the Christian church year at home. Her work has appeared in Touchstone Magazine, Christ in Pop Culture, Daily Science Fiction, and many more. She and her husband live in sunny Southern California with their four children.