Scripture readings for the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord:
Malachi 3:1-4
Psalm 24:7, 8, 9, 10
Hebrews 2:14-18
Luke 2:22-40 or Luke 2:22-32
Think Christmas was over weeks ago? Think again.
The Feast of the Presentation officially closes the Christmas season, 40 days after the Nativity, so there’s still one last chance to wish the world “Merry Christmas!” It is also one final opportunity in our liturgy to reflect on a vitally important motif of this season: the consoling, redeeming, transformative presence of light.
Think back to Luke’s account of Christ’s birth, the story retold on Christmas Eve. We found “the glory of the Lord” shining around the shepherds, even during their night watch in the fields. Then in Matthew, on the feast of the Epiphany, we learned of the magi, who followed a star to find the newborn king in Bethlehem.
And now we return to Luke’s gospel and encounter the aged Simeon in the temple, who takes the baby Jesus into his arms and blesses God, saying, “My eyes have seen your salvation, which you prepared in sight of all the peoples: a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and glory for your people, Israel.”
We can’t escape it. Light has been everywhere.
Small wonder that this climactic feast has also been known for centuries as Candlemas, a time for blessing candles that will be carried home to remind us daily of the miracle of Christmas, the miracle of illumination, Jesus Christ, the Light of the World. In some Churches around the world, candlelight processions remain popular and serve as a beautiful punctuation mark at Christmas’s end.
This central message remains: we are people of light. The lights on the tree may be in a box in the attic, and the bulbs that were strung on gutters and on evergreens are stashed in the basement, but the Light that truly matters continues to give off its glow.
What a wonder it is. And what a source of boundless hope. The great challenge for us in the days and weeks ahead is to keep that light burning.
It can be easy for us to forget that the first tangible gift we receive as baptized Christians – after the splash of water and the dab of oil – is a lit candle. “Receive the light of Christ,” we’re told. It is a flame that has continued to burn, whether we are aware of it or not, in the grace of the sacrament – no matter how life might try to snuff it out, quench it, or lower its glow to something resembling little more than leftover ash. (Lent is coming soon enough, and we will be reminded of how easily a strong flame can burn out and leave a dusty residue.)
Trust and believe: the light is there. Really. Our job now is to keep the glow alive.
These dark days of winter are a good opportunity to nurture the light of Christ in our hearts, to draw inspiration and hope from prayer, to (literally or figuratively) carry the light from Candlemas and the flickering joy of this last burst of Christmas into our everyday lives.
We hear a lot about the “spirit of Christmas.” Well, this feast cries out to us and asks us to keep alive something else: the spirit of Candlemas. Christmas was just the beginning. There is more.
We recall Christ’s presentation in the temple and that beautiful scene of an old man cradling new life, and we can’t help but think as he did, “Here is hope.” Here is light.
To those who have forgotten the bright promise of a star: there is still light. To anyone who fears or who worries, or who wonders about what the future may hold: there is still light.
Darkness doesn’t win. The light of Christ, the light of hope, prevails.
That is reason for us to smile and to say it one last time this season: Merry Christmas!
Deacon Greg Kandra is an award-winning author and journalist, and creator of the blog “The Deacon’s Bench.”
