You Can Go Now

How would you like to go? I don’t mean whether by foot, bus, or car. I don’t mean whether you’d like your Starbucks or Chipotle to go? How would you to go—how would you like to die?

Suddenly—like our beloved member Norm, who died in his sleep? Or like Kobe Bryant, in a helicopter crash? No lingering illness or debilitation. One writer mentions there are benefits to knowing in advance you’re going to die, though. You have a chance to say goodbye and tie up loose ends. Or, as she adds, you can remove embarrassing items from your dresser drawers or safety deposit box. If certain sins are weighing on you, you have the chance to get them expunged from your spiritual rap sheet.

At a bedside vigil, a loved one lingers between life and death. With each breath, you wonder if it will be their last. If someone seems to be hanging on, we may say to them: “you can go now.” “It’s okay, Dad, you can go now.”

One of the characters in today’s gospel is known for his “you can go, now” words. His words live on in one of the most beloved canticles—songs—in our Christian tradition. It’s called the Nunc Dimittis. “Now, Lord, you let your servant go in peace, according to your word.” We sometimes sing it after communion, after holding Christ in our hands. We sing it in Compline, the prayer service before bed, entrusting our sleep, like our death, into the hands of God. And we sing it at funerals. You can go now, we seem to say! With our eyes we have seen the salvation of God, prepared in the sight of every people.

Christmas seems long gone, so what’s up today? Actually, it’s a feast marking Jesus’ presentation in the temple forty days after his birth. And today is forty days after Christmas! Luke conflates two religious rituals from that time: Mary’s purification and the offering of the first-born to the Lord. At the temple are two devout, wise elders: Simeon and Anna. They are characters that could have been right out of the Old Testament. And Luke crafts the story using parallels with other characters, such as Zechariah and Elizabeth, and Hannah presenting Samuel to the Lord. The law and the prophets are both in this scene. Mary and Joseph are keeping the law. And Simeon and Anna are prophets.

There is the mention of light as well in Simeon’s song: a light for revelation for the Gentiles—that is, the nations—and the glory of your people Israel. It is this Epiphany light that gives this feast it’s nickname, Candlemas. One ancient tradition of this day is the blessing of candles and a procession, something that we will do as well.

It’s harder to make a connection with the Super Bowl today, yet Groundhog Day, is easy, and fascinating! According to ancient folklore, if there is sunlight this day, and an animal sees its shadow, there will be six more weeks of winter, that is if you believe a furry hedgehog. And remember, one year ago we had just come out of the polar vortex! Nonetheless, there is more and more light each day. We are half-way to the spring equinox!

I decided to watch again the movie Groundhog Day. Cable stations play it this time of year. And it’s filmed in Woodstock, IL, northwest of Chicago, despite it being set in Punxsutawney, PA. You probably know the story. Phil Connors is a weather forecaster, sent each year to cover the groundhog festival in Punxsutawney. He is gruff and grumpy, and to his surprise, he wakes up on February 3 to the same Sonny and Cher song, “I’ve got you, Babe.” He relives Groundhog Day over and over. Which drives him completely crazy. He tries to end his life but still wakes up the next day to February 2 again. All of this leads him to ask some good questions: What if there is no tomorrow? What if you had only one day to live? What do you want to accomplish in life before you die?

Simeon, the wise seer and prophet had a hope for his life. He was looking for the consolation of Israel. Anna was looking for the redemption of Jerusalem. They both longed for comfort and hope. To look upon God’s promised Messiah before they died.

The headline of an article from this past week describes well the pessimism many feel today: “The Darkness Where the Future Should Be: What happens to a society that loses its capacity for awe and wonder at things to come?” Conservatives can feed on cultural despair and look backwards, but when the left feels no hope for human progress, the future is bleak, indeed. No wonder the events in Washington put people over the top! They seem to foreshadow things to come.

On a day of shadows, there is foreshadowing in our gospel story. Remember that in many ways the gospels are passion narratives with added material, including the infancy narratives in Matthew and Luke.

The prophet Simeon foretells that the child is destined for the falling and rising of many. He will a sign that will be opposed. Jesus will be rejected and eventually put to death. Remember him saying, “I have come not to bring peace, but a sword.” And that could be the sword that will pierce Mary’s soul. In Luke, Mary is the first believer because she hears the word of God and responds. And yet, there will be great division because of this child. It is the cost of discipleship, the cost of faith.

And yet light shines today—a universal light for all peoples, for all nations, Gentiles and Jews. God comes among you with comfort and hope. In word and sacrament, Christ is presented to you this day. With your eyes you see the promised One and at this table you receive his body in your hands as well.

Even when all seems hopeless, we come together to hear again of God’s faithfulness, evermore and evermore. Oh, that we might live with such trust, as did Simeon and Anna.

At the end of the liturgy each week is the dismissal. Go in peace. In other words, you can go now. Go to serve. Go with gratitude. Go with faith and hope and trust! Evermore and evermore.