IT WAS AS THOUGH A WAVE OF PEACE ENGULFED ME
Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying, ‘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.’
And the child’s father and mother were amazed at what was being said about him. Then Simeon blessed them and said to his mother 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 – and a sword will pierce your own soul too.’ Luke 2:25-35
The meditation of Simeon
It was as though a wave of peace engulfed me,
a great surge of tranquillity flooding my soul
with a quietness beyond expression –
for I held him in my arms,
God’s promised Messiah –
there, in that little wrinkled face,
that tiny, vulnerable child staring up at me,
the fulfilment of God’s eternal purpose.
I just can’t tell you what that meant to me,
not only the joy but the relief I felt,
for there had been times when my faith had begun to waver.
No, I don’t just mean my conviction
that I’d see the Messiah’s coming,
though I did question that sometimes, it’s true.
It went deeper than that,
to the very heart of my faith,
to those words of the prophet
about us being a light to the Gentiles,
bringing glory to God through our life and witness.
I’d always believed that implicitly,
the vision stirring my imagination and firing my faith,
but over the years the flame had begun to splutter,
doused by the harsh realities which surrounded me.
The fact is we’d turned inwards rather than outwards,
our concern more for ourselves than the world beyond,
and, if anything, our horizons were growing narrower by the day.
It was understandable, of course,
the oppression we’d suffered across the centuries
enough to dampen anyone’s fervour,
but that didn’t make it any easier to stomach,
still less offer any grounds for hope.
Could things change, I wondered?
Was there really any chance we might recapture that old spark,
that sense of sharing in the divine purpose,
testifying to his glory,
or was that dream destined to die for ever?
It was impossible not to ask it.
But that day, there in the temple, suddenly it all changed –
faith vindicated,
hope realised –
for I knew then beyond all doubt
that God had been faithful to his purpose,
his chosen servant there in my arms,
the one who would bring light to the world,
salvation to all.
I saw him with my own eyes,
touched him with my own hands,
and after that I could die happy,
my joy complete,
my faith rekindled,
my soul at peace.
Prayer
Gracious God,
you have promised that in the fullness of time
your kingdom shall come;
a kingdom in which there shall be no more war or violence,
no more hatred or injustice,
no more sickness, suffering or sorrow,
but in which all will dwell in peace.
It is a vision which gives us hope and inspiration,
and we long for that day
when, together with all your people,
we shall see it realised.
But we would not be honest
if we pretended never to have any doubts.
When we look at the sin and suffering in our world,
the corruption, oppression and violence which seems so rife,
there are times when we wonder
if that hope is simply a vain delusion,
a chasing after the wind.
Teach us to go on believing,
even when everything seems to count against such belief.
Help us to trust that your will shall be done
and, in faith, to do whatever we can,
however small it may seem,
to bring your kingdom nearer.
In the name of Christ we ask it.
Amen.