First Sunday After Christmas, 29 December 2024: Luke 25-40 –- “Movie Review”
Here we are, on the First Sunday of Christmas. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day (the Nativity of Our Lord) have come and gone.
As far as our North American culture is concerned, the drama is over. In some places the decorations may stay up for another few weeks, but the spirit of anticipation, the drive for togetherness, and perhaps the generosity too will soon fade … if they’re not already gone.
Many Christmas trees have already been undecorated and removed. If artificial, they have been put back into storage. If real, then they have been placed out for collection and eventual composting. (Lorraine and I keep our real tree up and decorated until January 6th, which in our calendar is the Epiphany of Our Lord, and in the Orthodox calendar is the Eve of the Feast of the Nativity.)
As far as the church is concerned, however, the Christmas season began not on the first day of December (and certainly NOT on the the day after Remembrance Day!), but on Christmas Eve, December 24th. In our calendar, we’re about 1/3 of the way into the Christmas season. For the sake of faith, we are commemorating and celebrating as if we have only just received the incarnation of God’s astounding, unmerited gift of forgiveness and new life. And now we’re still unwrapping it, still finding out what it is … and how it changes everything.
Nevertheless, guided by our church’s spirit of Christmas, today let’s adopt an element of our culture’s timetable. Let’s think of the story of Jesus’ birth as a movie that, as far as most people are concerned, has come to an end. Imagine that we are writing a movie-review for publication. It might go something like this:
Screen-writer — God the Father.
Producer — the Holy Spirit.
Main character — Jesus of Nazareth, the first-born son of Mary.
Supporting cast — Mary; Joseph; angels; shepherds; wisemen or magi (actually, in the church’s calendar they don’t show up until the Epiphany of Our Lord; or in the Danish calendar on Helligtrekongers søndag — literally “Three Holy Kings Sunday,” but more ecclesiastically “Epiphany Sunday”); Elizabeth; Zechariah; jumpy-John-the-Baptizer-in-the-womb; and today, two characters easily overlooked: Anna and Simeon.
Each member of the supporting cast is a minor character. After all, first and foremost the movie is about the main character, Jesus Christ. He’s the reason and motivation for this Christmas drama. And yet, each of these minor characters plays an important role.
Zechariah, the father of John the Baptizer: he’s a priest serving at the Temple in Jerusalem, the umbilical cord between heaven and earth. He temporarily lost the power of speech because he had doubted God, but God restored him when he finally expressed confident faith by insisting, in writing, that his newborn son’s name be John.
Elizabeth, Zechariah’s wife: even though married to a priest she is the object of pity and shame because she is unable to conceive and bear children. However, all that is wiped away when, by God’s design, she becomes pregnant with the one who will prepare the way of the Lord.
John the Baptizer: God’s messianic prophet who will point to Jesus as the Saviour of the world.
Joseph: the virtuous but bewildered carpenter who is faithfully providing for Mary, his virginal but inexplicably pregnant fiancée.
Mary of Nazareth: the Blessed Virgin, the Theotokos (“God-bringer”), the Mother of Our Lord. Initially fearful and perplexed, very soon she proves to be the ideal faithful servant of God, and a symbol of the church of Jesus Christ.
The angels: God’s messengers. Sometimes they appear in dreams and visions. Other times they make grand, dazzling entrances. In any case, they typically provoke fear, for they are unearthly in appearance.
Shepherds watching over their flocks by night: they’re nobodies who remain nobodies, and yet they are distinguished characters in this drama because they bear powerful witness to the birth of Jesus the Saviour in the humblest of circumstances.
An unusually bright star leading to Bethlehem: sorry, no review here. You will have to wait for the sequel, which will come to a theatre near you on January 6th (in the Danish lectionary, January 5th, Epiphany Sunday).
The wisemen or magi: sorry, no review here. Wait another week.
King Herod: be patient, for once again, you’ll have to wait for the sequel to this particular movie. But even at this juncture we should say that he is a truly evil guy who is so possessed by the spirit of power and privilege that in order to keep his throne he will stop at nothing — even the slaughter of newborns.
Anna: one of the characters in our gospel reading for today. Her role in the story is what we movie-reviewers might call “a cameo appearance.” She is an elderly widow who devotes herself to fasting and prayer in the Temple. So attuned is she to God’s Spirit that when Mary and Joseph bring the infant Jesus to the Temple to do all that was required by the Law in his regard, she begins to praise God and proclaim the infant Jesus to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem.
I wish St. Luke had told us a little more about Anna. Her utter devotion to God reminds me of any number of women I see in our churches — women who express their faith by giving of their time and energies to the well-being of the community. But what we do know of Anna reminds us once again that even in a patriarchal society and culture, such as the one at the time of Jesus’ birth, God’s plans for redemption of the world includes vital roles for women.
Neither do we have a lot of information about the other elderly person in our gospel lesson for today, Simeon. St. Luke does tell us that Simeon “was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel.” The Holy Spirit rested on him, and revealed to him “that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah.”
Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple, and upon seeing the infant Jesus, Simeon took him into 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.”
That’s one of the most moving pieces of poetry in the Bible. Like many other poetic parts of scripture, it has become part of the liturgy of the church, and is traditionally identified by its first few words. Thus the Latin name for this one is Nunc Dimittis — “now dismiss us.”
Generation after generation, composers have set Simeon’s prophetic speech to music: chant in its earliest expressions; later, a melody with instrumental harmony so as to create a hymn for congregational singing; and also musically arranged for choirs or a soloist.
Traditionally, in Lutheran communities the most common use of the Nunc Dimittis is in funeral services, often as the last piece of music in the service. No surprise: Simeon is hinting that, because God’s creative and redemptive work has come to fulfilment, he is now prepared to die. After all, he is elderly. Finally, the peace that had been at the heart of God’s promise is settling upon him.
But Simeon is not quite done. First he blesses Joseph, Mary, and Jesus. Then he utters an unsettling prophetic word for Israel … and, by extension, for all people: “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.”
Whenever God draws near, opposition will inevitably be provoked. Sometimes the opposition is violent. That proved to be true in that time as both John and Jesus and faithful followers would learn soon enough. It has happened repeatedly since then. And in our own time, the Christian faith is the most persecuted of all religions, followed closely by Islam.
God’s great redeeming initiative in the Only Beloved Son would afflict Mary as well: “A sword will pierce your own soul, too.”
That is Simeon’s final word before he drops out of the story. But Mary’s role will continue. She will suffer as only a mother can when her child resolutely pursues a course that runs counter to the spirit of the times. On top of that, because she is the Mother of Our Lord, she will suffer uniquely the consequences of God drawing near to humanity, and humanity’s inevitable opposition.
The details won’t be reviewed here. That will come in yet another sequel, in this, the most crucial and enduring movie franchise of all time.
For God, the almighty screen-writer for this series, just won’t quit. The great script that begins with the Christmas story keeps rolling out new sequels. Generation after generation takes up life upon God’s good earth and engages in the conflict spawned by humanity’s rebellion against its Creator. In every era people will wrestle with sin and death and their consequences.
It is for such an existence that God has scripted the Christmas story. As the dazzling angel said to those anonymous shepherds in the fields, it’s “good news of great joy for all the people.”
That includes you and me. Jesus was born of Mary for your sake and mine. Delivered to us in the humblest of circumstances — in a stable with a feed-trough for animals as his bed! — he is God-incarnate, the Word made flesh. In Christ, God meets us right where we live, in order that God may take upon the divine self our human plight, and exchange it for heavenly righteousness, so that we might be reconciled with God in heaven and with all that God has made.
Whatever way in which you celebrate this season, know this: in Christ, God is with us, for our sake. Peace be with you all.