How Does a Weary World Rejoice? We Root Ourselves in Ritual

 

Jesus’ Dedication & Epiphany                                        Image from A Sanctified Art

It was just a over a week since Jesus was born and his parents were moving through the first week with their tiny infant, moving through their cultural rituals, infused with meaning and belonging. They were taking Jesus to the temple so he could be circumcised and officially named. His name would be Jesus, just as the angel Gabriel said. But the visit to the temple became even more than they expected… because while they were there, a Spirit-filled elder named Simeon, who recognized baby Jesus as the Messiah. 

 

He took the baby in his arms and praised God… calling this child the people’s “salvation,” calling him a light for all the nations… just like we heard in Isaiah.

 

Simeon blessed Mary and Joseph, too… and told them that being parents to this One was going to be quite a ride. There would be major highs and major lows… 

A sword would pierce her soul.

 

And then there was more, from the prophet Anna. With all the wisdom of a woman who has lived most of her life a widow, fasting and praying night and day, she praised God and spoke about the child to all who were waiting for the redemption of Jerusalem.

 

Wonderful and terrible things had been happening all around them—and both wonderful and terrible things were to come—but in the midst of it all, here was a very warm and bright moment. It was a moment when wise ones, Spirit-filled ones, reminded Mary and Joseph and the whole gathering that God was with them.

It was a moment of ritual, following all the usual practices in all the usual ways—but in that ritual, there was space for an Epiphany—when God’s real presence was clearer than usual.

 

That’s why we gather, too… so that we can practice rituals full of meaning and belonging. At first, we might enter into the practices of church with low expectations, but then, there are moments where someone surprises us. Someone praises God, offers some word or gesture that helps us remember to praise God, helps us remember that God is present right here… 

God is loving us, redeeming us, saving us. 

 

In her poem Muscle Memory by Rev. Sarah Speed, she describes it this way for us– 

 

When the world falls apart around me…

…Take me to the table.

Tell me how people have fed each other.

Tell me how they’ve torn the bread with wrinkled hands and children’s hands.

Tell me how they’ve said, This love is for you,

as they looked you in the eye.

 

Then take me to the font…

Tell me to leave my burdens there.

Then take me to the front doors.

Remind me how we throw them open.

 

Take me to the creaky pews,

Pews that have held the straightened spines and silent prayers of so many.

 

Take me to the church.

Move me through the rituals.

Tell me why it matters, so that next time, when someone else’s world falls apart,

I will have the muscle memory to share.

 

When I was old enough to question the value of rituals, I remember my Mom saying something like this to the question of why I had to go to church—“You don’t always go because you get something out of it. Sometimes, you go because someone else needs to see you there.” 

How does that shift in perspective sound to you? –That someone else needs to see you here.

That you are someone’s Simeon, someone’s Anna. Someone needs to see you. Someone needs to see and hear your child to recognize that God is in our midst.

 

As we mark this doorway with a blessing—as we receive a new word to ponder through the new year—we add to so many ancient practices some that may be new… and that’s just to keep things fresh, to keep awakening to the loving presence of God.

 

Today, two days after our 12 days of Christmas have come to an end (except if we’re Ethiopian, and then, we’ve just begun!). Today, the day after the Feast of the Epiphany, we come together for a season of watching for glimpses of God revealing who God is—this week, as prophets name Jesus as the fulfillment of God’s age-old promises.

 

Next week, we’ll gather again to celebrate Jesus’ baptism—another moment of God’s voice speaking to us the love and belonging we need to hear.

 

All through this season, we ask God to meet us in the greetings, words, song and prayers, meal and font, rituals that anchor us and speak a word of hope.

 

Just imagine that in this season after Epiphany, we have the opportunity to see and be radiant, for our hearts to thrill and rejoice… as Jesus meets us in work and play and rest, as winter days are infused with the dawn.