Simeon and Anna are the ones who capture my attention in these texts. Not that I don’t love the grand scope of praise in the psalm, or the hopeful joy in Isaiah . . .  repeated here after reading it during Advent.  Joy and hope are often in short supply, so it’s always a treat for me to get a good dose of those.  But I identify with Simeon and Anna. . . for they knew that all was not right, and they were looking and hoping for a change.

We are still in the Christmas season. . . celebrating the birth of the savior as we near the season of Epiphany. . . the time when story after story will reflect various realizations of just who this person Jesus was and is and what changes shall be wrought in his name. We have lived as a people in darkness during Advent, and we have just begun these stories of light shining in darkness. . . stories of the ‘ah-ha’ moment that is an epiphany. These stories are rich in callings. Exiles, altar boys, prophets and disciples are all bidden. Come home, we are bid, come and see,  we are invited; come follow. Hope and joy abound.

When Jesus appears, things get set in motion. We may not see where it may lead, but we already have our marching orders. There is light, there is movement. There is hope for tomorrow.

It is not unusual in my line of work to find myself in conversation with those who struggle during these holidays . . . those for whom the tinsel and twinkle lights only aggravate a deeper longing for things like justice and peace . . . those for whom hope is in short supply . . . Life has a way of taking it’s toll on us, doesn’t it?  So, we ministers find ourselves on the listening end of some pretty painful conversations. The kinds where questions are asked and no answers are expected.

In those conversations I have heard more than once:

“So, I don’t get what all the fuss is about. Big deal that Jesus was born a couple of thousand years ago. What difference has it made? Are things really any better off? Look around!  Is there less poverty? Are there fewer wars? I just don’t see any real reason to celebrate!”

And, truth be told, I can understand where those folks are coming from. Our world, even in a very cursory inspection seems to me remarkably unredeemed. Broken. Hurting. Hurtful.

I suspect that the world we live in today is not really all that different from the one in which Simeon and Anna lived. Not really.

For, if they needed anything, Simeon and Anna needed hope. Simeon, we are told, was waiting for the consolation of Israel. And Anna was looking for the redemption of Jerusalem. Remember, won’t you, that Simeon and Anna were living in an occupied land, and watching God’s people move further and further from liberation. These texts are talking about consolation and redemption, but they are not referring to just feeling better, or individual salvation, as some might interpret these texts.  When consolation and redemption are spoken of here, what is meant is the liberation of the people. God’s chosen people: Israel. All of them.  Solace for the least of those, especially the poor. Justice and peace.  These texts are talking about political and economic justice. They are talking of an overthrow of domination systems that oppress the poor and benefit those on top.  Simeon and Anna are hoping for a righting of wrongs. . .   The same kinds of things I think most of us may all long for. . .  the very things those who complain about the emptiness of Christmas celebrations want to see. . .

Reading the newspapers, listening to the evening news, driving through our neighborhoods, we, too, wait for consolation. Redemption. Sometimes it is closer to the surface, but it is always there. . . our world is not the way it was meant to be. Our world is not the way we want it to be.

When I was very young and filled with enthusiasm and idealism, I think I believed that with a little commitment, some dreams and a little elbow grease, we could make the world a better place. I was a ‘boomer’, as you may have guessed. I watched great strides occur in terms of racism and civil rights in this country, and some measure of hope in terms of women’s issues. We stood up to a war we felt was unjust and dividing the country. Whether or not you agreed with that war, many of us felt some power when the troops pulled out. Our generation still carries scars and learned at a very deep level just how painful ‘no-win’ situations are. . .

I am older now. Not as old, I suspect, as Anna and Simeon. But old enough to know that there are no quick fixes or easy answers. And old enough to know that I am not going to change the world on my own.

But I find that while idealism may be in shorter supply, I still cling to hope.

I need hope. And I know I am not alone. It is not just age that steals the youthful enthusiasm and idealism.

It is an assortment of disappointments, I think. I have been disappointed by many things. Time may heal all wounds, but time and life have a way of wounding us, disappointing us, as well.  Time wounds all heals, too. Who was it who said that every cynic is a  disappointed romantic.  Ah, so true. .  Disappointments abound.  The world is filled with disappointments. And yet, as Anna and Simeon knew so well – faith points us beyond disappointment. Faith is at some level simply believing that things can get better. Will get better. Trusting in some kind of higher power – call it what you may – that will help lift us out of the morass.

Simeon and Anna hung out in the temple. They were looking for hope from God.  From the institution that was meant to keep the people focused on God.

But among the disappointments. . . in that day as in ours, has been the religious institutions.

I’m disappointed in the church. Not any one individual church, mind you. . . I am speaking of the universal church.

I know I am not alone in that disappointment.  You , too may harbor some of it , I know others do. . . .  so, to illustrate my point, let me share the words from a little booklet from the Church of the Saviour in Washington, DC. :

“Some of us have loved the church for as long as we can remember. We have given ourselves fairly faithfully to seeking the risen Christ in community, and we see things that are right and good about this universal body of believers. And yet, at the same time, we are aware of a growing inner dis-ease and discontent among many at what the church has not become. We find that we are not alone in feeling a deep and unequivocal caring for the church. . . and yet longing for something more.

We see the realities of our world and recognize that the church has not become a strong and mighty witness for scores of displaced refugees and starving , ill, ignored, assaulted masses. We are not calling the nations to bow before God in recognition of systemic oppression of the poor. We are not demanding that practices of reconciliation and justice be at the heart of national global policies, nor even at the heart  of our own schools, work places and neighborhoods. We are not lending our corporate voice to the voiceless and our power to the powerless. In short, we are not filled with the fire and passion of Jesus Christ. We have not let our life together be poured out as a sacrificial gift of love, taking on Jesus’ nature and proclaiming with him and the prophet Isaiah:

 The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

Because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

Simeon, we are told was a man righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel. The consolation of Israel. Simeon was looking to those who were appointed to be the ‘lights to the nations’ to BE lights to the nations. He was wanting the people of God to get their act together.

I can understand that, can’t you?

And there is Anna. Looking for the redemption of Jerusalem. She, too, was in the temple, living in the temple, because she expected the good news to come from the religious authorities of the day. Looking to the people of faith to make a difference.

And, friends that is where I am. Where we all are. Here, in the temple, among the religious authorities of our day, waiting for  consolation and redemption. But the religious institutions have lost their way, and their focus.

The church has turned to business models, and entrepreneurial designs and technology and consultants to help us grow and attract new members, because – and this congregation is not alone in this – we are afraid we’re dying.

I read this story of Simeon and Anna, desperate for hope, and wonder if they attended any workshops on seekers churches or evangelism in the new age, or ordered the video series from one of those fast growing mega churches?

I suspect the Simeon and Anna may have been looking for consolation and redemption to come in a very different way than the way it showed up: in a tiny baby born to very poor parents.  All those years of waiting and hoping and then there it is: in the least likely place.

I am reminded when I read this story and imagine the grandeur of their hopes and dreams of that simple quote by Frederick Buechner: “Incarnation is not tame, [but nothing less than] Ultimate Mystery born with a skull you could crush with one hand.”

It’s was a miracle that they saw in this tiny child the hope for which they had been longing. Well, an epiphany is an epiphany. . . though, isn’t it?

And whatever else happened, this baby grew into the man, Jesus, as our text tells us, “grew and became strong, filled with wisdom, and the favor of God was upon him.”

And I am of the opinion that he is still our hope. That returning to his teachings, learning his ways, being fully his people is still where consolation and  redemption can be found.

Let me share with you from that same little booklet from Church of the Saviour. The booklet is called: Becoming the Authentic Church, and what I want to share with you is what it means to be an authentic church:

There are six hallmarks of the authentic church and here they are

1.                         The authentic church is an outward expression of God, who is love. In love and through love, the new community is created. God, who is by nature unlimited love, draws us to let our partial, limited love unfold in depth until we reach our full capacity for giving ourselves to God and to the totality of everything and everyone that God has created. In our present wounded, damaged, distorted condition, it is difficult to imagine what his sort of beloved community might look like or how we even would begin to commit ourselves to it, but we open ourselves to the impossible, trusting the Source of love to show us the way.

2.                         The authentic church follows the authentic Jesus. Most churches claim to follow Jesus, but not all are following the authentic Jesus. Too often we fashion Jesus in our own image and then wonder whey there is no radical world change. The authentic Jesus is not in pursuit of privilege and power and prestige, but makes his home among the lowly. The authentic Jesus does not condone violence but is the embodiment of love, embracing all people equally with mercy and the hope of transformation. The authentic Jesus confronts cultural addictions and the systems that crate and sustain them. The authentic Jesus says no to the world’s power and yes to God’s power. There is only one real Jesus into whose being we hope to abandon ourselves, dying to our false illusions and letting our true selves be resurrected in him, who is the world’s hope. Together we seek to discover and live his nonviolent, healing nature.

3.                         The authentic church is a place of extreme diversity. The world has been damaged severely by the lie that we are meant to be separate from each other, that we are not bound together eternally as the children of one God. The authentic church will be a diverse body, interconnected and interdependent. The diversity will be of every sort—race, gender, economics, sexual orientation, age, etc. Even persons of other faiths can find themselves at home in the authentic church because Jesus Christ, with whom we are deepening in relationship, insists that we belong to the totality, the whole family of God. If we think Jesus excludes anyone, we haven’t yet gone deep enough in discovering who Jesus is.

4.                         The authentic church is serious about the work of reconciliation. We are the recipients of God’s atonement through Christ’s life, death and resurrection, but how can we claim to have atonement – literally at-one-ment – with God if we are not reconciled to the diverse family of God? The authentic church will create structures for the practice of reconciliation among those who often remain at a distance from each other. We will seek to know and be known by people whom society might call our ‘opposites,’ in order to overcome the barriers that we have been led to believe were inevitable. As we learn to trust each other, we will stop living in isolation and fear and will experience true communion.

5.                         The authentic church shares its life with others outside its circle. We cannot keep what we are unwilling or unable to give away. This is more than telling others what or how to believe, and more than giving persons who have been oppressed the tools they need to make it in the world, hoping they sense that they are cared for. Living a life together in Christ means becoming the fullness of love, which simply cannot keep from sharing itself with others, and especially any who are excluded. The authentic church will gravitate naturally toward the weakest members of society. In our sharing of mutual weakness, we will find ourselves deeply at home with each other.

6.                         The authentic church seeks justice. The church often has been too cautious about it’s calling to justice, especially justice for those who have been excluded from places of privilege. We have forfeited our God-given responsibility to act on behalf of the poor. Through the power of nonviolent love, the authentic church will bring pressure to bear on the systems of our world that are unjust. We will challenge those in political power to act on behalf of the powerless, empowering and lifting up the voices of those who otherwise have no voice. The authentic church will join with others who are working for systemic change, ready to take the risks of love, even risking persecution for the sake of justice. 

This means, doesn’t it, that in the epiphany of who Jesus was meant to be, that the call to follow Jesus is offered us? We cannot know him to be the reconciler, the way-shower, the bringer of peace, the hope of the world, and NOT want to follow where he might lead.

I long to be an authentic human being, a part of an authentic church, a part of the consolation and the redemptive work of Christ.

Steve Biko was a well-known anti apartheid leader and a leading proponent of “Black consciousness.” In 1977, while he was in the custody of the South African police, he was brutally tortured and murdered. His death became the rallying point for many in the freedom struggle.

Alice Biko [his mother] talked openly about both the anguish and the hope that have been part of being the mother of such a son . . .  In one of her last conversations with her son, [she] told him how difficult it was to be always worried about him being arrested and put in jail, how she never slept at night until she knew he was home. He had responded by reminding her that Jesus had come to redeem his people and set them free.

“Are you Jesus?” she had asked impatiently.

Steve had gently answered her, “No, I’m not. But I have the same job to do.”*

We, as those who have shared the epiphany, who follow the authentic Jesus, are called to be the body of Christ in the world today. We are called to grow and become strong, filled with wisdom and trust that the favor of God is upon us.

*Joyce Hollyday, Clothed with the Sun: Biblical Women, Social Justice and Us (Westminster John Knox press 1994