Holy Resignation, Holy Consolation
Holy Resignation, Holy Consolation
Simeon was "looking forward to the consolation of Israel,” and so he had, for a long, long time. Anna, along with the other pilgrims to Jerusalem, was “looking for the redemption of Jerusalem,” and so she had, for a long, long time. Israel was God's chosen people, but they had known little besides conquest and exile and strife and occupation. God's people needed consolation. Simeon needed consolation. And so he had come to the Temple of God's presence, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year, to pray for that consolation. Anna had done the same for so many years, praying for the redemption of Jerusalem, the rescue of Jerusalem from her oppressors. How often had Simeon and Anna run into each other in this most holy place, spoke of their hopes, and waited together for God to answer their prayers?
Simeon and Anna made a habit of holiness, which is one way to describe liturgy. They went through the cycle of festivals and celebrations, the cycle of scripture readings and psalms, year after year. Those habits of holiness helped them wait for the day when God would break through the habit, and they would be given a glimpse of the consolation and redemption for which they were waiting.
Perhaps it took Simeon all those years to prepare himself to finally start looking for God's answer, not in the inner sanctum of the Temple itself, but in the outer court of the Temple, which was as far as Gentiles and women could go. All he saw was a mother and father with two pigeons and a baby boy. How many of those had he seen over the years? Perhaps it took him all those habitual years of holiness to understand that for God to truly be with his people, he would have to emerge from the bottom up, not top down, so that we would recognize God in every aspect of our lives, inside our temples, and outside our temples, within our habits of holiness, and outside those habits of holiness. Perhaps when Simeon stopped looking for the infinite light to come down from above, he could then recognize the light that no darkness can extinguish in the most normal of places and people.
And that glimpse was all he needed. He understood that many would be scandalized by a God more interested in gathering people together than dividing them, a God who would refuse to overpower us, but would rather woo our hearts to his. Simeon understood enough now to know what would happen to Jesus, and to know that he didn't want to see it. He also understood what would happen to his own people, as Luke reports Jesus saying to the Daughters of Jerusalem on his Way to the Cross — Do not weep for me; but weep for yourselves and for your children. For look, the days are coming when people will say to the mountains, “Fall on us!” and to the hills, “Cover us!” For if they do this when the wood is green, what will they do when it is dry? — Simeon possessed what I call holy resignation. In addition to his Christmas poem, The Journey of the Magi — A cold coming we had of it — he begins, T.S. Eliot also wrote A Song for Simeon, which ends —
According to thy word.
They shall praise Thee and suffer in every generation
With glory and derision,
Light upon light, mounting the saints’ stair.
Not for me the martyrdom, the ecstasy of thought and prayer,
Not for me the ultimate vision.
Grant me thy peace.
(And a sword shall pierce thy heart,
Thine also.)
I am tired with my own life and the lives of those after me,
I am dying in my own death and the deaths of those after me.
Let thy servant depart,
Having seen thy salvation.
Of course, maybe the saints are tired these days too. Maybe the saints these days are more inclined to holy resignation. What are we, God’s elect, to do these days? Others are more qualified to answer this question as citizens with licenses and passports or other documents (hopefully). But what I can try to answer with some authority is what, as baptized citizens of God’s kingdom, we are to do. We can recommit to those habits of holiness that have kept us going day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year. We can keep on running into each other in this temple, speaking of our hopes for consolation and redemption, waiting for God to answer our prayers, and listening and watching for God’s answer to break through our habits of holiness.
When we do see the holiness of God, it breaks through those habits. It transcends the established liturgies by which we do our best to recognize God's presence among us. And yet, we need these habits of holiness to prepare ourselves for that moment when the habit will be transcended. We need the habits of holiness to keep us going when we have waited and waited for a glimpse of the light, and we are wondering when or if we shall ever see it. To all the Simeons and all the Annas here today of any age, I say, keep the habits going. I'm in no better position to predict when, or how, the light will reveal itself than the priests in Jerusalem. But through those habits of holiness, the light shall break through. Go in peace, having seen thy salvation.
The Presentation
The Rev. David Kendrick
Feb 2 2025