St. John’s Lutheran Church
2 February 2025 + Presentation of Our Lord
Luke 2:22-40; Malachi 3:1-4
Rev. Josh Evans
They came, as called, according to the Law.
Though they were poor and had to keep things simple,
They moved in grace, in quietness, in awe,
For God was coming with them to his temple.
Amidst the outer court’s commercial bustle
They’d waited hours, enduring shouts and shoves,
Buyers and sellers, sensing one more hustle,
Had made a killing on the two young doves.
They come at last with us to Candlemas
And keep the day the prophecies came true;
We share with them, amidst our busyness,
The peace that Simeon and Anna knew.
For Candlemas still keeps his kindled light;
Against the dark our Saviour’s face is bright.
–Malcolm Guite, from Sounding the Seasons, p. 25
On the 40th day of Christmas, the lectionary gives to us … Candlemas –
pulling back into Christmas – as though we ever left – if only for a day.
In fact, today’s Candlemas gospel comes just one verse after the nativity story in Luke. We’ve just barely left Mary “treasuring” and “pondering” and have hardly bid farewell to the shepherds who go on their way “glorifying” and “praising.”
In a sense, Candlemas effectively pulls together the entire Christmas-through-Epiphany season – a season with a sustained focus on light.
At Christmas, Jesus comes as the light who shines in the darkness;
at Epiphany, Jesus is revealed as the light of the whole world;
and today, Simeon praises the newborn Messiah
as a light for revelation to the gentiles.
Candlemas offers us much for reflection –
and above all, this day reminds us of God’s great, unfailing love for us.
Starting off strong with Malachi –
a book I’m willing to bet not many of us are super familiar with,
clocking in at a mere 55 verses,
and quietly tucked away – barely a bookmark –
right between the Old and New Testaments.
God’s “valentine” to us,
as a beloved, and now departed, seminary professor of mine has called it.
“I have loved you,” says the Lord – the prophet begins,
with an affirmation, right off the bat, of God’s love for God’s people.
An unearned, but no less unrelenting love.
Fast forward to the next chapter, and the dialogue … has shifted.
Here, the people lodge a complaint against God:
Why do those who do evil appear to get away with it?
Where is the God of justice?
A complaint steeped in irony, to be sure.
Because, if they actually wanted God to take seriously those who commit acts of injustice … they’d be first in line. After all, the history of God’s people is one…screw-up…after…another. They get themselves in trouble … they cry out … and God eventually bails them out. Rinse and repeat.
And God’s response in Malachi?
A messenger who will purify the people –
with a “refiner’s fire” and “washers’ soap.”
A purification which also reveals the high value placed on the thing being purified
– like “gold and silver.”
And thus the larger point:
God loves these people too much to let them keep going on
committing acts of evil and injustice against each other.
God loves God’s people so much that God intervenes.
Again. Another second chance.
A “valentine”? Maybe so.
And what about this scene in the temple?
It starts off tenderly enough –
the old Simeon greeting the long-awaited Messiah and praising God –
before redirecting his attention to Mary:
This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many…
and a sword will pierce your own soul, too.
Not exactly the stuff of a baby shower or congratulatory newborn greeting card,
and yet, it’s fitting – and a sign of things to come.
Already, we’ve heard Mary’s Magnificat about lifting up the lowly and bringing down the powerful – “falling and rising.” And two chapters later, which we actually heard last week, is Jesus’s inaugural address in the synagogue in Nazareth – a proclamation of good news to the poor, release to the captives, and freedom for those who are oppressed.
From Mary to Simeon to Jesus’ own words, one thing is clear:
Jesus’ ministry is going to shake things up,
it’s going to subvert the status quo,
and it’s going to take him to the margins –
to heal the unclean and the foreigner,
to break bread with “tax collectors and sinners,”
to associate with everyone his society has deemed to be “less than.”
Time and again in Luke’s gospel,
Jesus demonstrates God’s expansive love for all people,
even if it means turning the world around.
Here – in Malachi and in Luke, on this Candlemas day –
is the love of a God who will stop at nothing.
A God who refuses to give up on God’s people.
A God who goes to the least expected places
and reaches beyond respectable boundaries.
A God who does not let our brokenness,
however broken it gets, have the last word.
A God who is, even now, renewing us and all of creation.
Amidst the bustle of life,
the weary headlines, and the fear…
enduring our weeping, our anger, our uncertainties…
we come at last to Candlemas,
to hear again, amidst it all,
the promise of peace…
the promise of love incarnate…
the promise of the unconquered light that shines in the darkness…
For Candlemas still keeps his kindled light;
Against the dark our Saviour’s face is bright.
