Longing for and leaning into the mystery

by Bishop Joensen | January 16, 2024

Bishop William Joensen

Some years my Christmas decorations come down in mid-January after the Christmas Season ends with the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord; some years they stay up until the February 2nd Feast of the Presentation.  I want to think with the heart and mind of the Church, but my own instincts are to view the Presentation of Jesus described in Luke 2:22-40 (a passage that appears both in the Christmas Season and on February 2nd) as a sort of extension of the mystery of the Incarnation of Christ.  I’d like to reflect on this wonderful Mystery of the Presentation to Simeon and Anna in light of our own diocesan and personal call to bless and leave to others what happens next in God’s unfolding mystery of his revelation in our lives.

Advanced in years, Simeon and Anna are remarkable for several reasons, not least of which is their long vigil of expectation and longing—not simply for weeks or months, but perhaps for decades or even generations.  Their sustained hope was untarnished by disappointment or bitterness every time a family showed up in the temple for the ritual purification that is analogous to Catholic families who present children for baptism.  Simeon and Anna did not wearily take a look at each child who preceded Jesus and say, “Nope, not that one.  God, you’ve let me down again.”  

Rather, despite their chronological age, I believe they preserved a childlike sense of wonder, beholding the world and each person in it as an instance of God’s goodness and generosity, reflecting the glory of a God who loves life.  They were “illuminators” in the sense that David Brooks describes in his recent book, “How to Know a Person: The Art of Seeing Others Deeply and Being Deeply Seen.” Brooks observes, “Illuminators see each and every person as a creature endowed with an immortal soul—a soul of infinite value and dignity.”  For illuminators, he continues, “You may be chatting with someone about the weather. . . but you are at the same time aware that each person has some transcendent spark within them—the basis of our equality, even if we’re not equal in might, intelligence, or wealth” (Brooks p. 31).  

Further, an illuminator generates “admiration—seeing others for the precious creatures they are”—not for who they are not.  From this attitude follows great patience and the gift of genuine presence, as the mystery of each child, every woman and man unfolds (ibid., 205-6).

That said, something wonderfully unprecedented occurs as Mary and Joseph and Jesus present themselves in the temple. The Holy Spirit stirs Simeon and Anna to recognize that the child is one with the Holy Spirit by whom his mother conceived him. This child is not only a reflection of God’s glory; he is the glory of God revealed in human form. He is not merely a worthy occupant of the temple; he is the Holy One who purifies and renews the temple in the meekness and mystery of his petite personhood.  
The child Jesus may not raise his hand in blessing; as Pope Francis remarks, “This is not the Holy Family of the holy cards.” But those who are privileged to hold him in their arms are profoundly blessed. The Holy Family graces, illuminates, consoles, and consecrates all families, all generations. 

Simeon’s longing was fulfilled and affords him peace. Anna’s fidelity as a widow, who worships and does not whine or lament, enables her to give thanks even for the hardship and loss life visited upon her.  That is the grace I pray we can all experience: that we can know the peace of Simeon that freed him to go on to what God had in store for him. We seek the favor of Anna, whose constancy of fasting—from having a husband with whom to grow old together—did not douse her prayer, her ability to give thanks to God with a receptive heart to whatever life dealt her, to that which lies beyond her control. All this, even as the lines between what God sends her and what is due to human frailty and fallibility, seems often blurred.  

Together, Simeon and Anna create an atmosphere of hospitality where people set aside their fears, their weaknesses, and swap stories and exchange trust that the mystery and mission that God has bestowed endures beyond appearances (Brooks, p. 249).  

Anna and Simeon bolster the vocations of Mary and Joseph to be guardians, not owners, of their child. They are to create a family culture where their child is open to whatever God proposes—even as this will calls forth a spirit of detachment, for to live and love in this free manner opens one another to suffering. As Simeon declares, the child Jesus will be both a glorious light beheld by all people, AND a sign who will be contradicted. He will introduce a sword of the Spirit and word who will pierce not simply his parents’ hearts, but all hearts. 

As a steward and guardian and not owner of the mystery of Christ, I sense the prompting for us to be like Mary and Joseph, and Anna and Simeon, in our openness to the mystery of God’s plan for our Diocese. Sometimes God’s pilgrimage with us leads us where we might not naturally, willingly want to go. As we soon embark upon a process of more intentional pastoral planning and soon implement our diocesan strategic vision, and despite our sometimes sterile faith, we are to be committed to bring forth what wise and prophetic figures like Simeon and Anna are poised to behold.  

For the Jesus presented to us in Word and Sacrament and one another establishes a temple not made by human hands. He asks that our hands and hearts remain receptive to a mystery and mission still being revealed. This mission must be constantly refreshed and discerned so that the promise presented in the temple, a promise fully revealed in the person of the child Jesus, might be fulfilled in the life of every person, every household, regardless of age, ethnic origin, or spot in the story of salvation. May Simeon’s prayer, which concludes the prayer of the final hour of each liturgical day as it yields to an inviting night of mystery, be our own prayer, so that even in the wake of letting go and pressing on, there might be peace: 
“Now, Master, you have let your servant go in peace, according to your word, for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you prepared in the sight of all the peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and glory for your people Israel.”  Amen!    

En espanol

Bishop Joensen

The Most Reverend William Joensen is the current bishop for the Diocese of Des Moines, having been ordained and installed in 2019.