sermon excerpts: "A Bouncing Baby Boy" (Luke 2: 22-40)

Jesus, even as a newborn, was fulfilling destiny and bringing hope. As he grew in the tradition of his faith, he was presented at the Temple with an offering. Following in the steps of Abraham, he is circumcised and blessed. Just like any other Jewish boy.

A pious and faithful man named Simeon just happens to be there and is incredibly moved. He speaks words of wonder and we find out that he has lived to see the fulfillment of his lifelong wish – to witness the consolation of Israel, Christ the Lord. How many other people at the temple that day simply went about their business not knowing that their Saviour was there? How could they know that the one that all the ancient prophecies spoke of was squirming over there, alongside two turtledoves?

But it is a time of mixed messages. While proclaiming praise and glory, such that people would remember Isaiah’s promises, there is assurance that great things are ahead for Jesus. But then Simeon further says to Mary, “by the way, great and terrible things will happen and it will feel like your soul’s been stabbed.”

While Jesus the Messiah would deliver God’s people to a new, more profound relationship with the divine, ushering the kingdom of heaven, he would also divide nations and families, causing conflict and turmoil. This is a lot of expectation to place on a baby. Yet there is something that rings true in this double-sided message.

It is true that our own actions work to unite and divide, to bring solace and pain – a mixed blessing that is our own existence. I’m guessing this might not be unique to me, but shortly after our kids were born came the thought, not quite a regret: what have we done? Is this a world that I want to raise my children in? What pain and heartache and loss will they suffer in life? What kind of life will be left for them given the state of the environment, freshwater and air quality, and market-driven food supply? I was feeling all the panicked doubts of a new parent.

But that is not what we focus on if we are to maintain our sanity – instead it is the promise and potential that each of us, children or not, have to offer. Going back a couple thousand years, the hopes and fears of all the years are wrapped up in the form of a bouncing baby boy.

A colleague of mine mused thoughtfully about some thoughts he had during one particular baptism. What if this child is the one who finds a cure for cancer? What if! What if we treated all of our children like that? All people like that?

What if we saw each other as bearers of great and wonderful news? What if we saw one another with the eyes of Simeon and Anna, to speak truth about what is needed, and to allow for other viewpoints? What if? Then we wouldn’t need Christmas to remind us that Christ is already here. Until then, we hope and dream, struggle and strain, live and love. Merry Christmas.