A Sense of Destiny

Luke 2:25-33
Christmas 1
December 29, 2024
William G. Carter

Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying, 

 “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.”

And the child’s father and mother were amazed at what was being said about him.

Simeon arrived at just the right time. Has that ever happened to you?

I remember taking the bus from Scranton to Manhattan. As I crossed the street on 44^th and Broadway, one of my college classmates walked right toward me. “Bob,” I exclaimed, “what a surprise!” He replied, “Bill, it’s great to see you!” Then he kept walking. OK, no big deal. We hadn’t been that close. Yet ten seconds in either direction, we would have missed one another.

It happens in less dramatic ways. Say you park the car in a random location and make your way to the store. As you walk in through the sliding door, there’s somebody you know arriving at the same time. Call it a coincidence. Or maybe it’s something more.

Maybe we dream about someone – and then, without planning, we see them the next day. Or we pick up the phone to call someone and there’s no dial tone. After an awkward silence, that very same person says, “Hello?” She was trying to call you at the precise moment you were trying to call her. The psychologists call that synchronicity. Unless it’s something else.

Everybody must be somewhere, I suppose. The older I get, the more miraculous is every occurrence. Was it a random occurrence? Was it meant to be? Was it destined to happen? Who can say?

I’ve always marveled over the serendipitous meeting between Simeon and the infant Jesus. They both showed up at the right time in the right place. We don’t know if Simeon lived in Jerusalem or if he hovered around the Temple. All we know is that he was there at the precise moment when Mary and Joseph walked in to consecrate their son. And the Spirit said, “That’s the one.”

Luke, the storyteller, puts it that way. He loves to talk about the Holy Spirit. He says, The Spirit “rested upon” Simeon. The Spirit also had said, “Old man, you’re not going to die before seeing the Messiah.” And then, one day the Spirit said, “Step right up. Look to your left. See that little family? Go up to them and look into the blue blanket.” And that’s what he did.

Was it a coincidence? Luke says, “It was the Holy Spirit.” Something more than a coincidence.

According to the account, Simeon was primed for the occasion. His head was filled with the pages of Scripture, which is why he is described as “righteous.” He marinaded his soul with prayer, which is why he is called “devout.” His eyes were open. His heart was available. He trusted the Word that he would see the Messiah. That is remarkable. Most of us will have to wait until we die to have such a moment. Simeon got a preview. Just as the Spirit had promised.

It’s a remarkable story. It prompts one final Christmas carol: “Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace.” Simeon has seen enough. We presume he is old, although the storyteller never actually says that. He’s simply “a man.” There’s no reference to his age. All we know is Simeon had heard God’s promise and saw it confirmed. That’s it. The rest of the story would remain in God’s hands.

Like I said, it’s a remarkable story, which is exactly why it gets written up in the Bible. Luke knows who Jesus will become. He calls him an “apocalypse to the nations,” the unveiling of holy light on those who had previously been excluded from the light. And Jesus will be the “doxology” of God’s own people Israel, the One worthy of praise and rejoicing – again, another promise that waits its complete fulfillment.

Insiders and outsiders, united as one family: this is the comprehensive salvation that Simeon could already see. And it was enough. “I’ve seen it all,” he shouts to God. “I have seen what you will do. Let me go into your peace.” He moves from serendipity to serenity. He had expected God to send the Messiah; now he can expect what God will do through the Messiah. The future will be in God’s hands. And it’s going to be all right.

Like the other Christmas carols in Luke, what Simeon sings is a good preview of the whole Gospel story. Light and praise, promise and fulfillment, God’s holy salvage operation has begun. We play our parts, of course, yet we trust the Good News to expand beyond us. Like Simeon, we see and hear just enough at the birth of Jesus that we can trust God to continue the story.

Whether we are at the end of our lifetimes or at the end of this year, this is a good word for us. There is so much in our lives that remains unfinished. But when we see what God has begun, it’s OK to let God carry the future for us.

A week ago, I received a most unusual Christmas card. It came with an address label from my friend Don Byers. I shook my head and said, “Wait, didn’t Don pass away last summer?” Indeed, he had. Don was a retired Presbyterian minister, living in Syracuse. He taught stewardship. He raised money for the church’s mission. We served on the board of a conference center. When he retired, he moved into a senior facility. He called Bingo numbers, set up his model trains in the lobby for neighbors to enjoy, and nursed his wife Jinny until she passed away. Then, last June, Don also passed away.

His daughter found their Christmas card list and sent out one final card with a two-page letter. She wrote about her mother. Jinny had borrowed money from a sister to pursue a nursing degree. She had always dreamed there might be a way for others to become nurses, regardless of their ability to pay tuition. It was a wonderful dream but remained unfulfilled.

After Jinny died, Don took responsibility for her estate. It included some family land in North Carolina that she had acquired over the years. After reflecting on the matter, he decided last year to sell the property. It was now worth a hefty sum. He donated all the proceeds to nursing school in Syracuse to create an endowment in his wife’s name. I can almost hear him say, “I’m old, she’s gone, we don’t need to hang onto the property. Let’s build somebody else’s future.”

Don lived just long enough to meet the first recipients of the scholarship. As their daughter now tells the story, “This gift has outlived them both.”

That’s how it works in the kingdom of God. We let go of what we’ve held so tightly, and we entrust it to hands greater than our own. An expanding future is promised to people we don’t even know. The gifts of God outlive us all. The light and glory of the Messiah continues to increase. When this truth becomes obvious, we can pray, “O Master, you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word.” The future belongs to God.

(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.