Sunday, January 5, 2014

The Old Man and Star Lesson


It came to my attention recently while watching a  documentary film about Jerusalem, that in ancient cities, sentinels kept vigil on the city walls throughout the night.  Long, difficult hours of waiting and watching characterized the sentinel's evenings.  The watcher's role was well understood as vital for the protection of the city and the welfare of its citizens.  Morning, nonetheless, meant great relief, both for the watchmen who kept vigil throughout the darkness and for the people within the city walls.   

Making use of the laden imagery of those who kept watch for the morning, biblical writers often juxtaposed the role of the watchman and the work of the prophet.  Through long, dark hours of slavery and exile, stubbornness and despair, the prophets kept watch, calling out evils, calling forth awareness, peace, and repentance.  "This is what the LORD says: Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls.  But you said, 'We will not walk in it.'  I appointed watchmen over you and said, 'Listen to the sound of the trumpet!'  But you said, 'We will not listen'" Jeremiah 6:16-17.  The book of Isaiah expands the imagery of the sentinel's watch even further, suggesting watchful eyes throughout the kingdom of God, servants who hold vigil day and night, watching for light though presently surrounded by darkness.  "Listen!  Your sentinels lift up their voices, together they sing for joy; for in plain sight they see the return of the Lord to Zion" Isaiah 52:8

An old man in Jerusalem named Simeon was one such sentinel.  All that is known of him is that he was righteous and devout, and looked forward to the consolation of his broken land.  Led by the Spirit, he went to the temple one day to offer the customary sacrifice when he noticed an infant in the arms of a young, peasant woman.  Taking the baby in his arms, he began to sing: 

"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" Luke 2:29-32.

A watchman who kept vigil through long years of darkness, Simeon saw the infant Christ and used the language of a slave that has been freed to describe it.  There is a sense of immediacy and relief, as if the light of morning has arrived after years of shadow, and he is finally free to leave his post. 

Tomorrow, January 6th,   introduces  Epiphany, the historical Christian feast day that celebrates the arrival of the magi to the birthplace of Jesus.  I’m a bit saddened that most of the “church world” has set aside it’s significance today.  But St. Matthew describes a vigilant scene not unlike that of Simeon's.  With great facination and rumination I watched the documentary film: The Bethleham Star; reminded that wise men from the east followed a lone star through a great expanse of darkness to come upon a new born king.  Their watchful journey took years.  It impelled further darkness as Herod's jealousy reared the evil demand for the murder of infant boys throughout Bethlehem.  It was a solitary journey, disregarded by the masses, and wrought with difficulty.  But the light was real; the glory of the LORD had risen. Isaiah 60:3 tells me: "Nations shall come to your light," sang the prophet, "and kings to the brightness of your dawn.".

With those who first watched and waited for God to step from the heavens and into an unlikely stable, I am reminded on the feast of Epiphany that I, too, am one straining in the dark, waiting for a great light.  Like those who first journeyed to set their eyes on the child born to die, I labor through long nights, often finding myself out of place, in the dark, and straining to see more.  But in so doing, Christ himself transforms my watching and my waiting, my life and death, bringing light where death stings, tears discourage, and darkness haunts.  I’m reminded by the singing psalmist, "I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord, more than watchmen wait for the morning, more than watchmen wait for the morning" Psalm 130:5-6.  Yes, sometimes the night will be long for me this year (that’s life) but the great Light is real.