eager longing

I wonder what you notice about the two main characters in our reading?

In Jerusalem was a man by the name of Simeon. He was an upright man, devoted to the service of God, living in expectation of the “salvation of Israel”. His heart was open to the Holy Spirit, and it had been revealed to him that he would not die before he saw the Lord’s Christ.

He had been led by the Spirit to go into the Temple, and when Jesus’ parents brought the child in to have done to him what the Law required, he took him up in his arms, blessed God, and said

“At last, Lord, you can dismiss your servant in peace, as you promised! For with my own eyes I have seen your salvation which you have made ready for every people—a light to show truth to the Gentiles and bring glory to your people Israel.”

The child’s father and mother were still amazed at what was said about him, when Simeon gave them his blessing. He said to Mary, the child’s mother,

“This child is destined to make many fall and many rise in Israel and to set up a standard which many will attack—for he will expose the secret thoughts of many hearts. And for you … your very soul will be pierced by a sword.”

There was also present, Anna, the daughter of Phanuel of the tribe of Asher, who was a prophetess. She was a very old woman, having had seven years’ married life and was now a widow of eighty-four. She spent her whole life in the Temple and worshipped God night and day with fasting and prayers. She came up at this very moment, praised God and spoke about Jesus to all those in Jerusalem who were expecting redemption.

This is the only time we hear anything about Simeon and Anna. We aren’t told very much about them. We presume Simeon is old – and we’re told that Anna is ‘very old’ – 84. So here they are coming towards the end of their lives.

At this stage of their lives people can spend a lot of their time looking backwards. But you get the sense, with Anna and Simeon, that they are very much living in the present, and they also have an eye on the future. They are tuned into what God is doing now – and what God is beginning. They are looking forward with ‘eager longing’.

We are told that Simon is ‘living in expectation of the salvation of Israel’. He believes that the promises of the prophets are coming true in his time – he’s looking out for the signs, and he is open to the stirrings of the Spirit. So when he feels the Spirit prompting him, he makes his way to the Temple – and when Mary and Joseph bring in Jesus, he recognises immediately that he is the one who will fulfil those promises. He can see – in this little child – a new light shining out, the light of truth and judgment, the light of glory and salvation.

It seems that Anna is also deeply open to the movements of the Spirit. She has a prophetic gift. She spends her time in prayer and fasting, alert and ready for what will come. Later on, many people will miss the significance of who Jesus is and what his coming means. But she sees it straight away and rejoices – and shares her joy with others who share her sense of hope and expectancy.

Both Anna and Simeon have a sense of ‘what next?’ What is God doing? We may also have a sense of ‘what next’ when we look at the news each day. Not that things were not much different in their day – it was a time of megalomaniac rulers, despotic decrees, and worldly power sweeping aside the lives of ordinary people.

But despite this, Simeon and Anna see something else at work. They sense it. I went to see the film Conclave the other day. It’s about the election of a pope, but it’s more exciting than you might think. I’m not going to give away the plot, but there is a moment when a breath of wind through an open window seems to be a sign of the stirring of the Spirit – a deeper movement, amongst the powerbroking and pettiness of human behaviour.

I remember once being away at a place of retreat, and in that place of deeper awareness, I went for a wander, down to a river. I watched a line of fallen leaves floating slowly on the current, until they came to a weir, and one by one, slipping over the lip and down. It felt like an image of the slow, steady, unstoppable movement of the loving purposes of God.

Wherever we are on our life’s journey, we are invited into a deeper awareness of this movement, and we are invited to share with Simeon and Anna in eager longing for what this may mean. Here is a poem written by the Canadian poet, Mary Oliver, when she was towards the end of her life, talking about her continuing learning and longing.

Thirst - by Mary Oliver

Another morning and I wake with thirst
for the goodness I do not have. I walk
out to the pond and all the way God has
given us such beautiful lessons. Oh Lord,
I was never a quick scholar but sulked
and hunched over my books past the hour
and the bell; grant me, in your mercy,
a little more time. Love for the earth
and love for you are having such a long
conversation in my heart. Who knows what
will finally happen or where I will be sent,
yet already I have given a great many things
away, expecting to be told to pack nothing,
except the prayers which, with this thirst,
I am slowly learning.

Sense something of the quiet, steady movement of God’s loving purposes – and maybe of the stirrings of the Spirit…

Lord, like Simeon, we long for peace, we long for light, we long for you to come to us. Hear the longings of our hearts – may we recognise your presence even here, and put our trust in you.

Lord, draw us like Anna into a stillness that is open to wonder – ready to notice the flow of your love – and open to a joy that overflows.

Lord, may we keep learning, like Mary Oliver – letting go of what we don’t need, and nurturing the longings of our hearts, which lead us to you.