Homily for the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord (Readings).
The gospel reading on the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord (Lk 2, 22-40) is really about humility. The word humility comes from the Latin ‘humous’, which means dirt or soil. Basically, the humble are down to earth; they don’t walk high and mighty. Another English word derived from ‘humous’, interestingly enough, is humor. But humor hinges upon irony. You’ll notice this in the nicknames that kids give to one another. The short kid is nicknamed stretch, the tall kid is given the nickname shorty, the skinny kid is nicknamed Hercules, and when I was a kid, they called me slim.
Now what’s interesting about this gospel reading in Luke is that it is full of irony, and for that reason it is full of humor. In fact, the entire mystery of the Incarnation is a matter of divine irony. St. Gregory of Nyssa calls attention to this in his sermon on the Beatitudes. He says:
What more humble for the King of creation than to share in our poor nature? The Ruler of rulers, the Lord of lords puts on voluntarily the garb of servitude. The Judge of all things becomes a subject of governors; the Lord of creation dwells in a cave; He who holds the universe in His hands finds no place in the inn, but is cast aside into the manger of irrational beasts. The perfectly Pure accepts the filth of human nature, and after going through all our poverty passes on to the experience of death. …Life tastes death; the Judge is brought to judgement; the Lord of the life of all creatures is sentenced by the judge; the King of all heavenly powers does not push aside the hands of the executioners (Sermon 1, The Beatitudes).
In today’s gospel reading, Jesus is presented in the temple, because the Torah says that “every male that opens the womb shall be consecrated to the Lord.” Now to consecrate means to ‘make holy’. But Jesus is the fount of all holiness; he is Lord, God the Son, the Second Person of the Trinity. There is irony here; it is perfect humility, and perfect humor. So too, Mary undergoes forty days of purification, but she is purity itself, for she is the Immaculate Conception, she is ‘full of grace’, as the angel addressed her at the annunciation (Lk 1, 26). Not only that, but according to Luke, Mary is the New Ark of the Covenant. The Ark of the Covenant in the Old Testament was the holiest object in Israel, and it contained the tablets of the commandments, manna from the desert, and the staff of Aaron. Mary, the New Ark of the Covenant, contains in her womb the New Law (Christ), who is the Bread of Life and the eschatological priest who came to offer himself for the salvation of the world. She is the holiest of all God’s creatures, and Joseph is the greatest saint next to her. Nonetheless, both of them submit to the requirements of the Old Law. That is humility.
But there is more. Simeon is described as righteous and devout, awaiting the consolation of Israel. It was revealed to him that he would not see death before laying eyes on the Messiah. He recognized, through the Holy Spirit, that this child was the Messiah, and that he would be a sign of contradiction, and he turns to Mary and tells her that a sword will pierce her soul also. But what is interesting is that Mary and Joseph both marveled at what was being said about Jesus. It was news to them. Furthermore, Simeon blesses them both, the Mother of God, and her husband. And so Mary, the greatest saint, full of grace, and Joseph, the next greatest saint, are amazed, that is, impressed at what was said about the child, and both received Simeon’s blessing. Moreover, it is not just Simeon to whom hidden things have been revealed; Anna, a prophetess, married and widowed, a woman of prayer and fasting, came forward too and spoke about the child. And one other irony: Mary and Joseph, the richest creatures ever created by God, are poor; for they offer the offering of the poor, two turtle doves instead of a lamb, and yet they hold in their arms the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. And Luke, throughout his gospel, depicts Mary as one who “ponders these things in her heart.” In other words, it’s not as if she knows everything. She learns, and marvels at what she learns through others and ponders what she sees and hears.
It is obvious that Mary and Joseph have no idea of their status before God, no idea of their holiness. Both of them allow themselves to be taught, to be amazed; although the Old Law is fulfilled in her womb, Mary does not see herself as above it, nor does she think herself superior to Simeon or Anna, even though she is even higher than the angels.
This says a great deal about what true holiness is. Those who are genuinely holy do not know they are extraordinary; they don’t compare themselves to others. The truly holy and humble allow themselves to learn from everyone, and because of that they are able to be impressed with others. The proud and envious, on the contrary, are rarely impressed with anyone or anything, unless it is indirectly related to them and glorifies them in some way. And rarely do they speak well of others. Although the true saint is hidden and unknown, because they don’t stand out, pseudo-saints manage to find subtle ways to make themselves stand out from others around them. Great saints don’t know they are saints, they don’t pontificate, they are not quick to correct others or give advice; pseudo-saints pontificate, are quick to offer correction, and are quick to advise. True saints affirm others, who leave their presence always feeling better about themselves; but pseudo-saints do not allow others to leave them feeling better about themselves, but confused and doubtful about their worth. Genuine saints are very generous, pseudo-saints are stingy, not only with money, but with everything–they rarely praise or compliment others, unless the object of their praise somehow reflects back on them. And as genuine saints are not the least bit aware of their holiness, pseudo-saints are not the least bit aware of their pretension, but see themselves as superior, which is why the Lord laughs in the heavens (Ps 2, 4); for hypocrisy, especially among the clergy, is terribly ironic, tragic, but also rather humorous.
Pope Francis, early in his papacy, derided the notion of a self-referential Church. Many in the Church were distressed by the suggestion, but he continues to call the Church to turn outward, towards the world, to be a more listening Church. This is why he has put so much effort into Synodality; listening to the lay faithful, recognizing their gifts, talents, and expertise. In other words, he envisions a more Marian Church, not a Church that cannot listen and postures as having all the answers, but a Church that, like Mary, readily marvels at the extraordinary gifts, talents, insights and abilities of unknown men and women who are genuinely influenced by the Holy Spirit, like Simeon and Anna in this gospel.
Image: “Nunc dimittis (Lourdes)” (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0) by Lawrence OP
Douglas McManaman was born in Toronto and grew up in Montreal. He studied philosophy at the University of St. Jerome’s College (Waterloo) and theology at the University of Montreal. He is a permanent deacon of the Archdiocese of Toronto and ministers to those with mental illness. He taught Religion, Philosophy and the Theory of Knowledge for 32 years in Southern Ontario, and he is the current chaplain of the Toronto Chapter of the Catholic Teachers Guild. He is a Senior Lecturer at Niagara University and teach Marriage Prep for the Archdiocese of Toronto. His recent books include Why Be Afraid? (Justin Press, 2014) and The Logic of Anger (Justin Press, 2015), and Christ Lives! (Justin Press, 2017), as well as The Morally Beautiful (Amazon.ca), Introduction to Philosophy for Young People (Amazon.ca), Readings in the Theory of Knowledge, Basic Catholicism, and A Treatise on the Four Cardinal Virtues. He has two podcast channels: Podcasts for the Religious, and Podcasts for Young Philosophers. He currently lives with his wife and daughter in Ontario, Canada.
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