The Presentation 02/02/25
The Still Point
A Time of Meditation and Reflection
The Presentation of Our Lord in the Temple
... At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance... T.S. Eliot, Burnt Norton
Peace on each one who comes in need;
Peace on each one who comes in joy.
Peace on each one who offers prayers;
Peace on each one who offers song.
Peace of the Maker, Peace of the Son,
Peace of the Spirit, the Triune One.
Opening Prayer
Eternal God, who by a star led wise ones to the worship of your Son: Guide by your radiant light the nations of the earth, that the whole world may know your glory. In the name of the Word made flesh, Jesus Christ, and by the Holy Spirit, we pray. Amen.
Scripture Reading Luke 2:22-40
When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, the parents of Jesus brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord (as it is written in the law of the Lord, "Every firstborn male shall be designated as holy to the Lord"), and they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law of the Lord, "a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons." 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." There was also a prophet, Anna the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was of a great age, having lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, then as a widow to the age of eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshiped there with fasting and prayer night and day. At that moment she came, and began to praise God and to speak about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem. When they had finished everything required by the law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee, to their own town of Nazareth. The child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom; and the favor of God was upon him.
Poem: “Wait and See (Simeon and Anna)” by Richard Bauckham
In the drab waiting-room
the failed travellers, resigned, sleep
on the hard benches, inured
to postponement and foul coffee.
Hope has given up on them.
There are also the impatient,
pacing platforms, and the driven,
purple with frustration, abusing
their mobiles, for the hardest part
of waiting is the not doing.
Truly to wait is pure dependence.
But waiting too long the heart
grows sclerotic. Will it still
be fit to leap when the time comes?
Prayer is waiting with desire.
Two aged lives incarnate
century on century
of waiting for God, their waiting-room
his temple, waiting on his presence,
marking time by practicing
the cycle of the sacrifices,
ferial and festival,
circling onward, spiralling
towards a centre out ahead,
seasons of revolving hope.
Holding out for God who cannot
be given up for dead, holding
him to his promises – not now,
not just yet, but soon, surely,
eyes will see what hearts await.
Meditation
Sunday, we mark the end of the Christmas season, with the Feast of the Presentation of the infant Jesus at the Temple (also known as Candlemas), and with a poignant scene of contrast, with the antithesis between new life and hope (in the form of Jesus) and long years of experience and waiting (in the form of Simeon and Anna, who are "looking forward to the consolation of Israel"). Richard Bauckham's poem explores the concept of waiting even further, with reminders that a life with God means "waiting with desire." Aside from being a wonderfully refreshing definition of prayer, that phrase, for me, is just the optimistic nudge I need in what has been an anguishing, chaotic, turbulent 2025 so far. The poem's first stanza may evoke the perspective of refugees, immigrants, and other holy strangers that, though used to the bureaucratic experience of waiting, are now in newly uncertain spaces and contexts. Perhaps this poem invites you to seek prayer in waiting, and to reignite the candle of your hope during this dark season.
Questions for Reflection
Do you like waiting? If not, why not? If so, why? What is your go-to habit while you're in a waiting room, or in a line?
Pick a new habit during times of waiting and see how that changes your perspective.
Do you have an end-of-Christmas tradition? In his poem "Ceremonies for Candlemas Eve," Robert Herrick outlines a wonderful way to mark the seasons of the Church year with different plants, which might inspire you to take up something similar.
In our chaotic national moment, what does it mean to hold on to hope?
Prayers
We bring before God someone whom we have met or remembered today
We bring to God someone who is hurting tonight and needs our prayer
We bring to God a troubled situation in our world
We bring to God, silently, someone whom we find hard to forgive or trust
We bring ourselves to God that we might grow in generosity of spirit, clarity of mind, and warmth of affection
We offer our thanks to God for the blessings in our lives
We name before God those who have died.
Now to God who is able to do immeasurably more than all we can ask or conceive, by the power which is at work among us, be glory in the Church and in Christ Jesus throughout all ages. Amen.
Accept our thanks for all you have done, O God. Our hands were empty, and you filled them.
May Christ’s holy, healing, enabling Spirit be with us every step of the way, and be our guide as our road changes and turns, and the blessing of God our Creator, Redeemer and Giver of life be among us now and remain with us forever. Amen.
Reflections this month offered by: Matt Bentley
