Luke 2:22-40
I remember watching an episode of the old Phil Donahue show, many years ago, on the subject of evangelical Christianity. One of the guests was Cal Thomas, a well-known commentator and columnist who was himself an evangelical Christian.
As he was talking about his faith in Christ as humanity’s Savior from sin, an angry person in the audience, who identified herself as Jewish, responded to his comments in a tone of shocked outrage. She asked if he was really saying that she had to convert to his religion in order to go to heaven.
Thomas responded that this was not something that was simply his opinion, but that the Bible itself teaches that Jesus is the only Savior, and that salvation is available only through faith in him. As I listened to this exchange, I did not disagree with the essence of what Thomas was saying.
But I thought about how I would have answered this woman’s question differently, in a way that perhaps would have provoked some deeper reflection on her part. When she asked, “Are you saying that I have to believe in your religion in order to be saved?,” I thought to myself that I would have said:
“That’s what the Jewish apostles told my pagan ancestors, when they brought the message of Jesus to them, and when they told them that they needed to forsake their idolatry, and believe in the way of salvation that is provided by the only God who really exists: the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.”
That kind of response to this woman’s misunderstandings and misperceptions would have been completely in accord with the words of Simeon the prophet: words that we heard in today’s text from St. Luke, and that we sing for ourselves, in a slightly different translation, in our Communion Liturgy:
“Lord, now You are letting Your servant depart in peace, according to Your word; for my eyes have seen Your salvation which You have prepared before the face of all peoples, a light to bring revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of Your people Israel.”
For those of us who are Gentile believers in Jesus Christ, every time we hear or sing these words, we are reminded of how much we owe, humanly speaking, to the ancient people of Israel.
What would the world have been like, and what would it be like now, if God had not chosen this nation, many centuries ago, to be the repository of his Messianic promise? To be the custodian of the inspired Hebrew Scriptures? To be the nation into which humanity’s Savior would be born, and through which his salvation would go forth to the world?
The setting in which Simeon originally spoke or chanted these words is significant. Jesus, as the firstborn son of Mary, had been brought to the temple to be formally presented to the Lord. This was in keeping with God’s command in the Book of Exodus:
“Consecrate to me all the firstborn. Whatever is the first to open the womb among the people of Israel, both of man and of beast, is mine.”
The firstborn from among the offspring of the livestock were to be consecrated to the Lord through sacrifice. But God made it clear that the human firstborn from among his people were absolutely not to be sacrificed, but were to be redeemed through the offering of an animal substitute.
Moses had conveyed this divine command to the Israelites in preparation for their entrance into the land of Canaan. This was a land that was to become their land.
This was a land that was to be purged of the idolatry and wickedness of the Canaanites who were living there at the time. This was a land in which the Hebrew people were then to live to the glory of God, according to the moral code that he had made known to them in the Ten Commandments.
Now, the Canaanites actually had a religious idea that was in some ways similar to what God commanded to the people of Israel. They, too, believed that the firstborn was to be seen as belonging to their god, Molech.
But in regard to their own firstborn children, they did not make a substitution from the animal kingdom for the sacrifice. The firstborn sons and daughters of the Canaanites were themselves burned on the altars of Molech.
This practice was an abomination to the Lord. Most obviously, it resulted in the death of a child. But it also resulted in the destruction of the natural affections of parents for their children, and of children for their parents.
According to the way God created human beings, parents are supposed to love and take care of their children. They are not supposed to kill them.
When a perverse culture and a demonic religion attack this most basic human impulse in such a direct and systematic way, the people who live in such a society become hardened in their conscience, and lose touch with some fundamental aspects of what it means to be human. The devil, who inspires such an evil mockery of God’s ways, is thereby able to accomplish much harm and damage, at so many levels.
And the Canaanites were not the only pagan society that practiced child sacrifice, or other forms of human sacrifice, in the darkness and deception of their idolatry and error. Not by a longshot. It’s much easier to count the number of pagan societies that did not practice such abominations.
Almost all of them did: The Aztecs in Mexico. The Druids in Ireland. The Huns in Asia and Europe. The list could go on. And it would not be a short list.
Just about every one of you sitting here today, if you are not descended from the people of Israel, are likely descended from remote ancestors who participated in human sacrifice – or who believed in it, and falsely believed that they benefitted from it.
And along with the human sacrifices in these pagan societies, came a general lowering of the value of human life. It would have been very unpleasant to live among such people: shrouded in such darkness; spiritually deceived by such lies.
But all of that changed when Jesus came, as a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to God’s people Israel. As Simeon was able to see by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, Jesus was, in his person, the fulfillment of all that Israel was and was intended to be.
In his person, he was, most decisively, the ultimate seed of Abraham, and the heir of the promise of Abraham. In his person, he was, most decisively, the ultimate heir of David’s royal throne, and the eternal king over God’s people.
He was the glory of God’s people Israel. Everything they were ever supposed to be, he was – and then some. Everything they were ever called to do, he did – and then some.
Simeon was no doubt very familiar with what the Lord had spoken through the Prophet Isaiah many generations earlier, in regard to his chosen people, and in regard to the chosen Messiah, who would arise from among his people:
“I will make you as a light for the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.”
Simeon knew that the baby he was holding in his arms on that day was the one who would bear our griefs and carry our sorrows; who would be esteemed as stricken, smitten by God and afflicted, because of our sins.
Simeon knew that this firstborn – unlike all the other firstborn of Israel throughout its history – would someday be sacrificed for the redemption of all other men; that he would be wounded for our transgressions, and crushed for our iniquities.
And Simeon knew that in the gospel and sacraments that would go forth from Israel, this child would sprinkle many nations: cleansing them from their sins.
Over the years and centuries that followed the coming of the Christ, his apostles, and their missionary successors, brought the message of Jesus to the world. In so doing, they brought the light of God to people who had been languishing in the deepest darkness.
In their preaching, filled with the saving power of God himself, they brought the life of God to people whose hearts had become completely disconnected from their creator, and who were trapped in a state of hopeless, spiritual death.
But as they believed in Christ, their souls were saved from sin and death. Their humanity was restored. The institution of the human family, and the love of parents and children within the family, became, in Christ, what it was always supposed to be.
As descendants of those in various lands who received the gospel from the apostles and other early missionaries, we are grateful beyond words for these ministers of the Lord, and for their faithfulness to the calling God had given them to preach the good news to all creatures.
And we are grateful to the pastors and teachers of our own time, who passed that gospel on to us personally, in our own baptism, and in the instruction in God’s Word that we have personally received.
We have the gospel, and the forgiveness of sins that has been proclaimed to us in Christ, because of God’s redeeming love for all nations. We would have no gospel, and no salvation, if the light of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob had not been kindled for us across all national and ethnic boundaries, from Israel.
We would have no hope, and no eternal life, if Jesus – the Son of God in human flesh – had not been supernaturally revealed to us – and to our pagan forebears – through the preaching of his Jewish apostles.
It makes it all the more poignant, therefore, when we consider the sad fact that a majority of the Jewish people did not embrace their Messiah when he appeared among them 2,000 years ago. But we know that God, in his love, wants all men to be saved from their sins, and to come to a knowledge of the truth.
We can therefore be certain that he wants those in our day, who trace their family heritage to the Hebrew patriarchs, also to be saved from their sins, and to know in their own lives the fulfillment of the Messianic hope of their ancient ancestors.
And so, together with Cal Thomas, and all others who have been filled with the peace of God’s grace through faith in Christ, we do not refrain from telling our Jewish friends and neighbors of this peace. And the Christian Church is able to see, with great joy, that many from among the people of Israel – in every generation – do indeed turn their hearts to the God of their fathers, and believe in Jesus as Savior and Lord.
And yet, we are also saddened when we look around us, and see what amounts to the re-paganization of our country. This process began in Europe several decades ago. And now it is happening here.
Of course, it has never been the case historically, that everybody in a mostly-Christianized society actually believed in the Christian faith. There have always been hypocrites and heretics; those who were stubborn unbelievers, and those who were chronically indifferent.
But what’s happening now, is that the beliefs and values of the Christian faith are being explicitly repudiated to an ever increasing extent. And a new set of pagan-like beliefs and values is taking their place.
It is truly heart-breaking to ponder how many of the firstborn of our land are sacrificed on the altar of the new American “Molech” – the god of self-indulgence and convenience – in the abortuaries of our cities.
It is truly heart-breaking to ponder how the natural affections that people should have for each other in families, are now often betrayed and obliterated by all sorts of bodily and psychological abuse; by the physical and emotional abandonment of children, and by the despising and belittling of parents.
And we here – even here – are not unaffected by this. It’s all around us. Through the revived paganism that surrounds us, and attacks us, the devil is attempting to draw us away from Christ, and away from the life-giving love of the God of Israel that has been made known to us in Christ.
What’s also happening – both in Europe and in America – is that after Christianity has been largely marginalized or even destroyed, a militant form of Islam then comes in, to capitalize on this spiritual confusion and aimlessness. And in other parts of the world – where the old-fashioned kind of paganism never completely disappeared – Islamic fanatics are likewise pushing their way in: using intimidation and violence to silence the Christian witness that would otherwise give the people in those places a life-giving alternative to both paganism and Islam.
The whole world needs a renewal of what Simeon was talking about in today’s text. Our society, too – and each of us individually – need a renewal of what the liberating and forgiving gospel of Jesus brings to people.
We and all people need the light of Christ, to break through the dark clouds of unbelief and despair. We and all people need the revelation of Christ, to vanquish the demonic lies that have captivated so many minds and hearts.
And in Christ, as we believe the promises of Christ, God will enlighten us. God will transform our minds and hearts.
And God will draw us back to himself, and fill us with an eternal hope built firmly on the perfect life that Jesus lived for us, on the sacrificial death that Jesus offered for us, and on the glorious resurrection that Jesus experienced for us, to give us victory over all our fears.
The God who sent his Son into the world, and who sent the message of his Son to all nations of the world, will not abandon us. And he will not abandon his struggling people – and those who will become his people through faith – in any nation where they may live.
I’ve always believed this. And now, through circumstances that dropped upon me unexpectedly and much to my surprise, I have been divinely called – or perhaps better, divinely pushed and pulled – to put that God-given belief into action in some new ways.
Most of you know that I was a missionary professor in Ukraine, from 1997 to 2005, when I had more youthful energy, more hair, and less weight. I thought those adventurous days were behind me, and that I would be able to serve this congregation, calmly and peacefully, for the remainder of my active years as a minister of the gospel.
There’s a part of me that still wants to do that. But there’s a slightly bigger part of me that has been persuaded that I need to do something else instead. So, on January 1st, I will begin my new duties as the World Outreach Administrator for the Evangelical Lutheran Synod.
I would ask that, in the future, when you chant in the Communion Liturgy that familiar text from Simeon, which confesses Jesus to be a light to lighten the gentiles, and the glory of God’s people Israel, you would in that moment offer a very brief, silent prayer for me and for the work that I have now been called to do for the advancement of world missions: on behalf of the congregations of our synod – including this congregation.
May God increase our wisdom and strengthen our faith as we face unknown challenges and obstacles. May God use us as his instruments, as we proclaim the alone-saving Gospel of Jesus Christ: in bringing the light of Christ to many who are now enshrouded in spiritual darkness; and in revealing Christ’s reconciling forgiveness, life, and salvation to many who are now alienated from God.
May Simeon’s confession of who Jesus is also be our confession. And may that confession give shape to our words and actions – in Princeton, Minnesota, and among all people, all around the world – so that by the power of his Word which we speak, God’s name will be glorified; God’s grace will heal and comfort the souls of men; and God’s kingdom will come, and his will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.
“Lord, now You are letting Your servant depart in peace, according to Your word; for my eyes have seen Your salvation which You have prepared before the face of all peoples, a light to bring revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of Your people Israel.” Amen.