Manger and Cross
A Sermon based on Luke 2:22-40
by Rev. Richard Gehring

            In this Christmas season, there are many familiar characters that we sing and talk about and display in our nativity sets.  There are the shepherds who were the first to hear the good news of Jesus' birth.  There are the angels who announced the glad tidings of great joy.  There are the wise men who followed the star bringing their gifts of gold and frankincense and myrrh.  And, of course, there is the holy family themselves:  Mary, Joseph and Baby Jesus who is wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.

            There is, however, at least one character who was one of the very first witnesses to the birth of the Messiah about whom we hear nothing in any carol and who is absent from the nativity scene.  His name is Simeon.  And although he encounters the Christ child in the temple in Jerusalem rather than in the stable in Bethlehem, he holds a very important place among those who witnessed the glorious birth of the Messiah.

            In fact, the events of  today's gospel reading probably took place before the wise men arrived in Judea in search of the newborn King.  And, more importantly, Simeon helps to provide a more complete understanding of what this birth is all about.  For in Simeon's message, although there is no mention of a manger, there is at least a hint of the cross that lies ahead.

            The story opens as Mary and Joseph take young Jesus to the temple in Jerusalem to observe the traditional rites of purification following the birth of a child and to present him to the Lord as their firstborn son.  According to Exodus, God lays claim to all firstborn sons of the Jewish people.  Because the firstborn of Israel were spared in the final plague when all the firstborn of Egypt died, they hold a special place and must be redeemed.(Exodus 13:1116)  In a sense, the ceremony that is performed is a way of the parents claiming this child who rightfully belongs to the Lord.

            Furthermore, Leviticus dictates that a woman who has a son is to go to a priest 40 days after the birth and present a sacrifice in order to be ritually cleansed from the blood which is present in childbirth.  For daughters, the ritual is performed 80 days after the birth.  The sacrifice consists of a one-year-old lamb and a turtle dove, although a provision is made for those who can't afford a lamb to offer two doves instead.  The young couple from Nazareth are apparently people of modest means, for they choose this latter option of two doves.

            In telling this story, Luke makes it very clear that Mary and Joseph are quite obedient to the Law.  They have already had Jesus circumcised.  And now they bring their almost six-week-old son to the temple to complete all the rituals which the Law requires.  Normally, this would entail a brief interaction with the priest who would offer a sacrifice on behalf of the child.  But just as the conception and the birth of Jesus were not so normal, so also his dedication is not exactly "by the book," either.  In fact, we read nothing about Mary and Joseph's dialogue with the priests.  Instead, we read about their conversation with a certain old man named Simeon.

            We don't know exactly who this Simeon was.  Luke never tells us who his parents were or what he did for a living or where he was from.  All we know for sure is that he was a "righteous and devout" man who was "waiting for the consolation of Israel" and who had been told by the Holy Spirit that he would see "the Lord's Christ" before he died.  It is that Spirit, then, that leads Simeon to the temple and to the young couple from Nazareth who are presenting their baby.

            Simeon thus stands at the end of a line of those who are led to recognize the significance of Jesus' birth.  First, there had been the angel who appeared to Mary, and later to Joseph, announcing the miraculous birth of their child.  Then, when he actually was born, a host of angels appeared to some shepherds out in the fields proclaiming the "good news of great joy."  Now, once again an unexpected witness is on hand to testify about this special child as he is presented in the temple.

            This time there are no angelic messengers who declare the news, merely the leading of the Spirit in the life of a very devout man who is waiting expectantly for God's Anointed One.   Simeon was in touch with God's Spirit, from whom he received encouragement and guidance.  He has been inspired by a message from God that he would live to see the coming of the promised Messiah.  And because of his spiritual discipline he is able to hear the voice of the Spirit directing him to go to the temple on the day that Mary and Joseph show up with their baby.

            With each new witness to the birth of Jesus, there is an added sense of reality to this incredible event.  We receive a fuller picture of the meaning of what is happening.  We get a more complete understanding of who this child is and what he's doing here.  Simeon's insights regarding the baby Jesus come in two brief statements which he makes:  a prayer to God and a "blessing" of sorts on the child and on his family.

            In his prayer, Simeon gives thanks to God for allowing him to see this blessed event.  He also proclaims a message of salvation and light for all peoples.  In his prayer of praise, he makes reference to a couple of passages from Isaiah where God promised a servant who would be a light to all nations.(Isa 42:6;49:6)  These passages speak of a time when justice will rule over the earth.  They look forward to a time when God's glory will be revealed in new and remarkable ways to the nations beyond Israel.

            It is this time that the people of Israel have been waiting for a time when they would no longer be just another tiny nation suffering at the hands of their oppressors; a time when the peoples of the world would look up to this people as special and remarkable; a time when the truth of their religion and the power of their God would be made manifest to all.  And Simeon, setting his eyes upon the tiny baby that Mary and Joseph bring to the temple, declares that this time is now at hand.

            To anyone else, the Galilean couple with the infant probably looked like just another family coming to the temple to perform the purification rites.  There is nothing particularly unusual or noteworthy about them.  But Simeon, who is in tune with the Spirit, regards Mary and Joseph and Jesus not as just another family doing what the law requires, but as an answer to his prayers and the fulfillment of God's promise.  According to Simeon, the hopes and dreams of an entire nation are about to be fulfilled.  Indeed, they are already being fulfilled by this little baby.  It is a message of joy, a message of comfort, a message of hope.  And Joseph and Mary, we are told, marvel at what is being said about their son.

            But no longer is this joyful, comforting and hopeful message declared than immediately Simeon also introduces elements of sorrow and fear and doubt.  Although Luke tells us that Simeon blessed the family, his words sound more like a warning than a blessing.  Turning to Mary, he says that this child will cause turmoil and will be spoken against.  And he cautions her that she, too, will suffer as her own soul is pierced by a sword.

            As Simeon waited for the promised Messiah, he wasn't looking for merely a warm, fuzzy feeling or a quiet sense of affirmation.  He was looking for a life-changing, earth-shattering, radical transformation of society.  He was looking for someone who would shake things up and rearrange civilization.  And that's what he saw when he looked at the tiny baby in Mary's arms.  What may have seemed like an ordinary child to most people was to him a revolutionary Messiah who would radically alter the course of history--hardly the image we have in mind when we gaze at a nativity set or sing "Away in the Manger."

            So what is the message that we can take from all of this?  Do we give up or at least tone down our celebration, knowing that this baby is destined to a life of suffering?  Do we weep for Mary, knowing that she will live to see her son tortured and killed while he is still a young man?  Do we stop singing "Joy to the World" and giving pageants that warm our hearts, knowing that Jesus' life will end in sorrow and pain?  Do we get rid of our nativity sets, knowing that they are idealized pictures of the harsh surroundings into which Jesus was born?

            I don't think so.  In fact, I think that if Simeon teaches us anything it is a deeper sense of joy and awe at what is happening in the events of Christmas.  For Simeon reminds us that God knows, from the very beginning, that the Messiah will suffer.  God knows that Jesus' life will be one of much sorrow.  God knows that he will be despised and rejected by many.  And yet, in spite of all of this, God sends him anyway.  Despite all of the evil in the world, indeed in large part because of it, God chooses to enter creation as this tiny baby in order to call us all back to the relationship that we were intended to have with our Creator who loves and cares for us so deeply.

            The message that we can take from Simeon is that Christ came not to eliminate all suffering, not to help us escape from the world of sorrow.  Christ came into this world, with all of its pitfalls and depravity, so that he could walk alongside us.  The joy of Christmas is that our God cares for us so deeply that this God became one of us.  God's unsurpassing love is demonstrated in the fact that God took on human form as a tiny, helpless baby destined for a life of hardship.  God showed that God understands deeply all our hurts and temptations and frailties because this God experienced them all personally, beginning with the birth of Jesus in that stable in Bethlehem.

            And that, my friends, is why we can sing, "Joy to the world!  The Lord is come.  Let earth receive her King!"  That is why we make room for our nativity sets on the mantle.  That is why we reenact the old, familiar story time and time again.  We do this all to remind ourselves that God entered our world--our imperfect, corrupt and sinful world--so that we might have hope and joy and comfort.

            The answer, it seems to me, is not to take away the manger.  A much better answer perhaps is to keep the manger out all year long.  Simeon's words remind us that the cross indeed lies ahead.  We must remember that.  But just as we must keep the cross in mind even as we gaze at the manger on Christmas Eve, so also we must keep the manger in mind even as we focus on the cross on Good Friday.  Neither event can be fully appreciated without the other.  Without the incarnation, the crucifixion has little meaning.  And without the crucifixion, the incarnation is not nearly so profound, either.

            We have a tendency to think of joy and sorrow as opposites.  But I always remember the quote that was over the desk of one of my professors at seminary.  It said, "Joy is not the absence of sorrow.  It is the presence of God."  And isn't that what Christmas is all about?  The events of Christmas remind us that the greatest joy is indeed found in the very midst of sorrow.  For it is in the midst of sorrow that Christ is found--both in the manger and on the cross.

            May we allow that joy to be touched with the sorrow of living so that we can appreciate our joy even more fully.  And may we always keep before us both the cross and the manger.