THE LITURGICAL YEAR

Sermons, hymns, meditations and other musings to guide our annual pilgrim's progress through the liturgical year.

Sunday, February 2, 2020

I SHALL WASH MY HANDS AMONG THE INNOCENT

A SERMON FOR CANDLEMAS


If I were to ask what the name of today’s feast is, there would be three completely different but equally correct answers to this question.  In our missals we see today listed as the Feast of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary.  And yet it is also, and equally importantly the Feast of the Presentation of Our Lord Jesus Christ in the temple, the fourth of the joyful mysteries of the Rosary.  And last but probably most commonly of all, we know today’s feastday as simply “Candlemas”.

In order to sort out this overabundance of names today, let us remember firstly that the Christ Child was born to be the Light of the World.  He comes not to confuse us, but to illuminate the dark recesses of our mind, increasing our knowledge about the things of God.  All these names for February 2nd,, therefore, are not an occasion for bewilderment, but for coming closer to God so we can know him, love him, and serve him better.

Like all the events in Holy Scripture, this one contains a lesson for us to learn.  Something we can meditate on and come to a greater understanding of who God is and what he wants from us.  So let’s go back to the days following Our Blessed Saviour’s birth in the stable of Bethlehem.  We can imagine how the parents of the divine Infant came to the realization that their Son had been born in a town very near the Holy City of Jerusalem.  The day he was born they knew that it would be only another forty days before the law demanded that the Child’s Mother present herself at the temple in Jerusalem to be ritually purified, and that they offer sacrifice at the selfsame temple for the birth of their Firstborn Son.  The laws of Moses were clear, and they were so close to Jerusalem that they could easily make the journey and perform their duties.

Finally the day came.  Forty days after the birth of the Christ Child, Our Lady and St. Joseph arrived at the temple with their baby, and the age-old rites of purification were accomplished, fulfilling the law, in spite of the fact that Mary, full of grace, had no need of being purified.  Then the old man Simeon took up the Christ Child in his arms, prophesying that this infant would be for the rise and fall of many in Israel, and that a sword should pierce Our Lady’s heart.  The story is comforting because we know it so well, and we welcome the familiar words of Simeon’s Nunc Dimittis: “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace according to thy word.  For mine eyes have seen thy salvation, which thou hast prepared before the face of all people.”  We recognize that great things were happening that day, old prophecies were being fulfilled, new prophecies were being made.

But peel back the surface of this story.  Go beyond the words, the faces, the events.  Go to the truth of the everlasting hills that lies beneath.  Purification, and Presentation.  First Our Lady is ritually purified, then she presents her Son as a gift to God.  And one must come before the other.  Only after her ritual purification is Mary considered in Jewish law, God’s own law given to Moses, as worthy of giving anything to God.  And what is true for Our Lady who was already all-pure even before the ceremonies, who had been hailed as full of grace by the Angel Gabriel, then that purification is all the more demanded of us.  We are asked by God to offer sacrifice to him.  But only after we have been purified.

Remember what it was that Our Lady and St. Joseph presented to God today.  It was no less than God himself.  Holy things unto the holy.  God the Son unto God the Father.  It was the perfect and acceptable offering, the precursor of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass:  their newborn baby who was God made man, was offered to God the Father who begat him. 

And how are we to follow their example?  What can we possibly give to God, when he created all things?  How much more imperfect must be our own offering.  And yet God demands it of us.   So let us make it the best offering we can.  Let us present to God on this feast of the Presentation, something as close to the perfect Christ Child that we can possibly find in ourselves.  We can begin by purifying ourselves from all stain of sin.  This we started at baptism when the stain of original sin was removed from our souls.  Now it is in the sacrament of penance that we are absolved from all the stains of our actual sins.

But it is not enough simply to be free from sin.  Perfection hardly consists in merely not being bad. Goodness is more than the absence of evil.  We must progress further, beyond that first necessary step, and purify ourselves from all attachment to earthly, material objects.  We must make sure that we love God above any of the creatures he made.   Then and only then can we finally turn to our inmost self.  We must now purify that self not from what we have any more, but from what we are.  We peel back our own character, with all its flaws and imperfections, all its grudges, its vices, its appetites and hopes and fears.  We take all this and go beyond to what lies beneath.  Deep down beneath the surface, until we find the divine light, that spark, that essence of divinity that God implanted with his grace, that silent and unspeakable presence of God within us that makes us something more than the sum of our parts, that makes us more than mortal, that image of the eternal God within us that is our immortal soul. And when we learn to purify this our very essence, of whatever is displeasing to God, then and only then can we present ourselves before God, giving him not of the things we have, but of who and what we are.   

It is interesting to note that when Mary and Joseph offered to God the gift of their Son, they were offering him in the form of a mere infant.  And yet how perfectly appropriate that image is.  After all, think about what it is to be an infant.  To be so perfectly pure of heart, someone who is sinless, who hasn’t had time to build attachments to earthly things, who has no grudges, no vices, none of those human disorders that detach the rest of us from God.  It is the newly born infant, or to be more precise, the newly baptized infant, who is surely the purest form of humanity that exists.  This is why the image of the Christ Child at Candlemas has such a hold on us.  And it’s why we worship Christ the King in the form of the Divine Infant of Prague.  And make no mistake, it’s also why it’s such a horrendous crime to destroy the life of an infant, especially before it has even had the chance to be born and to attain to this most perfect state of the newly baptized.  The crime of abortion is a crime not just against our fellow human beings, but against humanity in its most pure form, its most perfect reflection of the image and likeness of God himself.  It is a crime against God himself.

God allows us to see this pure perfection in the eyes of the newborn baby.  We recognize that here is someone as worthy as he can possibly be to present to God.  And so we bring him to the temple to be baptized.  Take the opportunity to remind yourselves that this most perfect little human, pure in his lack of attachment to the earthly, without sin, is what we must model ourselves on.  “A little child shall lead them”, said the Prophet Isaiah, and this is the reason why.  The baptized infant is the purest example we can have to follow.  We must be as purified from our attachments as the Christ Child of Candlemas, as any little child.  We must seek in the infant at baptism that light of divinity that we need to find in ourselves, that we may always do God’s will and not our own.

To remind ourselves of this purification, we burn candles today.  For we are purified as the silver is purified in the fire.  Fire purifies.  It burns away all those attachments to the earthly and material, and if you don’t allow it to burn them away in this life, the fires of Purgatory will surely purge and purify you in the hereafter.  The heat of the burning candle reminds us of this, and the light of the candle reflects that spark of divinity we search for within us.  “Let your light so shine before men,” said Our Lord, “that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.”  You are the light of the world.  And that spark of divinity must shine forth, not only for you yourself to find, but for all men to see, and so that you may present it, an unblemished and immaculate sacrifice, to God in heaven.

HAIL TO THE LORD WHO COMES

A HYMN FOR THE PRESENTATION OF OUR LORD IN THE TEMPLE

By John Ellerton

Hail to the Lord who comes, 
Comes to his temple gate!
Not with his angel host,
Not in his kingly state;
No shouts proclaim him nigh,
No crowds his coming wait;

But, borne upon the throne
Of Mary's gentle breast,
Watched by her duteous love,
In her fond arms at rest;
Thus to his Father's house
He comes, they heav'nly Guest.

There Joseph at her side
In reverent wonder stands,
And, filled with holy joy,
Old Simeon in his hands
Takes up the promised Child,
The glory of all lands.

Hail to the great First-born
Whose ransom-price they pay!
The Son before all worlds,
The Child of man today,
That he might ransom us
Who still in bondage lay.

O Light of all the earth,
Thy children wait for thee!
Come to thy temples here,
That we, from sin set free,
Before thy Father's face
May all presented be!

NUNC DIMITTIS

A REFLECTION FOR CANDLEMAS


The Holy Ghost had revealed to the old priest Simeon “that he should not see death, before he had seen the Christ of the Lord.”  At the Presentation, we can imagine this old man’s joy as he receives the Christ from the very hands of our Blessed Lady.  This old priest had made many offerings to God before now, but this one was different—it was the light that would lighten the Gentiles and be the glory of God’s people Israel.  It was the ultimate sacrifice that would open the gates of heaven for all mankind, and for him too.  When he takes the Body of Christ from the arms of his Mother, he is united in spirit with this Child, and he cries out in joy: “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace!”  In the days before the Sacrament of Holy Eucharist, this was Simeon’s Holy Communion.  In fact, it was his Viaticum—having tasted this union with God, he was now ready to leave the confines of this earth and go to his reward, union with God forever.

Simeon is our inspiration, showing us the utter vanity of this world, and that true happiness is to be found only by union with the Christ Child, the glory of his people.  However, this happiness comes at a price, and it is also Simeon’s role to remind us just how much we are expected to pay.  He does so in the following words: “Behold this Child is set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel, and for a sign which shall be contradicted; and thy own soul a sword shall pierce, that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.”

Simeon addresses these words to the Blessed Mother, to her who is and always will be closer to God than any other creature.  However, none of her great privileges, whether her Immaculate Conception, her Assumption, or Coronation as Queen of Heaven and Earth—none of these exempted her from the price of redemption.  That price is Sorrow.  Sorrow and suffering are introduced into the story of Redemption at this point, as the Joyful Mysteries gradually give way to the Sorrowful, and our Christmas season yields to next week’s commencement of the Lenten preparations.  We are reminded that there can be no perfect and undiluted joy in this world.  Holy Mary’s Immaculate Heart is pierced by the first of her Seven Sorrows, and this is a painful reminder to all of us that no matter how close we approach to the holy throne of God in this world, we too must suffer.

But just as sorrows are introduced into our Joyful Mysteries today, we must be consoled by the contrary truth—the joy that hides within those sorrows.  Our Holy Communion with God that we receive from the hands of the priest contains both the joy and sorrow that Simeon imparted to our Blessed Lady.  We receive the joy of knowing that our eyes too have seen our salvation, the light to lighten the Gentiles, and we receive too the sorrow of knowing the price of this salvation.  Our Lord reminds us that his “yoke is easy and his burden light.”  It is our love for him that makes it so, and the greater our love, the easier and lighter our suffering will be, because we suffer for him and with him.  And in the sufferings we must endure in this world, we have the joy of knowing that they have a purpose, that they give greater glory to God and us closer to him, and that by offering them up for others they contribute to the salvation of souls and render assistance to the Holy Souls in Purgatory.  “Take up thy Cross.”