The Patience of God

Luke 2:29-32

What are you waiting for?

Life is about waiting. We're all waiting for something. As children we impatiently wait to be grown-ups. Then we can't wait to graduate from school. Some can't wait for their wedding day or the day they will have children. Some of us are waiting for the Chicago Cubs to win another World Series! Some are waiting for a loved one to return from military duty. Still others wait for financial resources, a job, or the purchase of a home. Some of you are waiting for physical healing. There are those of you who are waiting for a neighbor, friend, or relative to become a disciple of Jesus. Some of you are waiting for justice for a wrong committed against you or another, or an end to senseless wars, for the end of political turmoil and starvation in places like Zimbabwe.

The list goes on and on. We are all waiting for something

Two thousand years ago a righteous and devout man named Simeon was waiting in the Temple where the Spirit had led him, when yet two more parents with their child entered the Court of Women to present or dedicate the baby and undergo the rite of purification for themselves.

For centuries artists have portrayed Simeon as an old man (as this slide showing depicts him), perhaps because of his comment "Now you are dismissing your servant in peace" or the promise made to him that he would see Christ before he died. But if you look carefully at the biblical text we have read, it does not tell us how old Simeon was . . . let alone who he was or why he was at the Temple for any other reason than that he was directed by the Holy Spirit. And it says nothing about his impending death; only that he would live to see God's promise fulfilled. Perhaps he was just a guy in his 40s or 50s . . . or maybe even younger.

His comment about being dismissed in peace is not unlike comments we make when we witness something that amazes us, such as "Well now I can die and go to heaven." God had simply made a promise to Simeon that he would see the Messiah before he died, and God had now made good on his promise to this man.

So what was Simeon waiting for? For that we need a back story.

Luke reminds us that what Mary and Joseph were doing that day that Simeon saw them was done according to the Law (vv. 23-24). Jesus' life was to be no exception to the Law. This is what Paul reminds us in Galatians 4:4-5--"But when the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the Law, in order to redeem those who were under the Law, so that we might receive adoption as children.

The Law also required that a woman who had given birth to a male child was considered unclean for forty days from the day of the birth. At the end of that period she had to go to the Temple for purification rites. She had to present a pigeon and a lamb for her purification, but if the couple was poor, as Joseph and Mary were, then two pigeons would suffice. Jesus Christ, even at his birth, identified with the poor.

All of this was done according to the Law that God had given Israel as part of the covenant promise he had made with them long ago. In fact, the Apostle Paul tells us that the Law was a tutor to point us to Christ. The Law is a servant that brings us to Jesus. For the Law--God's standard--was necessary to remind us of the sinful state into which we had been born and to lead us to the realization that we cannot live up to God's standard . . . that we cannot save ourselves. And now, at this first Christmas, one is born under the Law in order to do what the Law could not do . . . to save us from our sins. I've said this before, but it's good to be reminded: SIN is the reason for the season. Christ is what the season is all about, but the r eason for it is sin. No sin, no season; no Fall, no incarnation and no Christmas needed.

In fact, this story we are looking at today really begins long ago, in the first book of the Bible--in Genesis. This is why it's less significant that an individual Simeon was waiting and far more important to remember that Israel had been waiting for a long time. For the celebration of Christmas begins with God's original expectation that we be perfect--not just "pretty good," but p erfectly obedient to God. But our first parents blew it in the Garden. They failed the pop quiz that came with the forbidden tree. The only question on the quiz was "Who's in charge here?" And our first parents answered, " We're in charge." It was an outright act of rebellion against the Creator and the beginning of our self-centered idolatry. And Paul reminds us in Romans 3 that we all flunk the test now. God doesn't grade on a curve. It's either an "A" or an "F." And we all get "F's" . . . we all fall short of the glory of God. We all rebel against the King by wanting to be the rulers of his Kingdom.

God could have intervened at that moment in ancient history and made everything right with the metaphorical wave of his hand. But God took the extraordinary step of deciding to make his creation right again by working through his rebellious creatures. It would be messier, but God, in his infinite wisdom, chose this path.

And so the Almighty Storyweaver hinted at his plan . . . hinted at Christmas coming, when he promised Eve in Genesis 3:15 that her seed--her progeny--would crush the head of the serpent that had tempted her to rebel. And then the divine Author this story devised a plot whereby, even though we are damned sinners, he did not stop loving us, but demonstrated his love even more toward us by choosing a wanderer named Abraham. And he made a promise to him that through his seed now all the nations would be blessed. The only problem was, Abraham didn't have a son. And so he waited . . . and his wife Sarah waited . . . and finally these two senior citizens had a boy. God kept his promise, even though he kept them guessing until they were older than George Burns when he died!

And then there was Joseph, Abraham's grandson, who had a dream when he was a teenager that one day God would make him a leader to further God's plan. But he was treated unjustly by relatives and acquaintances, spent years in prison for a crime he did not commit . . . and waited, until God kept his promise by making him Vice Pharaoh.

And as the story went on there were prophets like Jeremiah and Habakkuk, who suffered through dark spots in history from which God had seemed to be absent. They waited, but eventually God acted. The same thing happened to David, hounded by a lame duck King Saul . . . to women like Hannah and Ruth . . . to leaders like Nehemiah. They all had to wait for God to fulfill his promise . . . but God always came through in the end.

And, then, one day, after Israel had waited all of these years to be the one through whom God would fulfill his promise to make right through Eve's seed what we had made wrong . . . after Israel had smarted under foreign domination and exile and now suffered under foreign Roman occupation . . .now Luke tells us that Simon receives the Christ child into his arms, just as Mary received him into her womb. In fact, Simon's receptiveness has earned him a title in Christian tradition: Theodochos--"God Receiver.

And notice the way in which this "God Receiver" accepted the revelation of Christ into his life. His response is one of the most beautiful hymns or prayers in the New Testament--the N unc dimittis--the passage of Scripture which we read. Since the 5th century this has been recited in the night prayers of the church, called "compline"--or "completion of the day." He sings it in response to what the Holy Spirit revealed to him: He is now witnessing the "consolation" of Israel . . . what the prophet Isaiah had predicted in Isaiah 51:3--"For the Lord will comfort Zion; he will comfort all her waste place, and will make her wilderness like Eden, her desert like the garden of the Lord; joy and gladness will be found in her, thanksgiving and the voice of song."

In other words, as Simeon puts it, what he holds in his arms--Yeshua, which means "the Lord is my salvation" . . . what he holds in his arms is "according to God's word." The gift of salvation that he now witnesses in this child who has come through the seed of Eve, the progeny of Abraham, the line of David and Ruth, and is now born of Mary is all "according to your Word," Lord--not just as a specific promise to this one man, but as a promise made for salvation of all humanity--not just for the glory of Israel, but also as a light of revelation to the Gentiles." This is the fulfillment of God's ancient promises. And God's promised shalom--his peace with justice--now envelops Simeon.

At the same time, he knows this is not the end of the story. It's just the decisive mid-point. True, Simeon's life was complete at this moment. He had lived to see history change. Whether he lived another thirty years or only another thirty minutes, he was not concerned. Standing there, with the baby Jesus in his hands, he knew that time itself was now divided into two halves: all the years leading up to that moment and all the years that were to come. Posted at the crux of history, he knew that "the Lord's Messiah," that is, "Yahweh's chosen agent of salvation," would not only be a "precious cornerstone" on which many will build their lives, but also a rock that will cause some to stumble [Is 8:14]. In fact, even in this same Temple there is the shadow of hatred that will eventually lead to a cross.

If Simeon lived another two years, he would hear news of Herod's orders to slaughter the male infants and toddlers in Bethlehem. This is the dark side to Christmas that goes beyond the charming Hallmark card prettiness and our "Santatizing" of the story. In fact, the church has for centuries marked off tomorrow/today, December 28, as the "Feast Day of Holy Innocents"--and we remember the wailing of mothers who will not be consoled 2000 years ago, just as surely as there are wailing mothers tonight/this morning in Israel and in Gaza who weep over the death of their little ones.

This is the wailing of people today who must stilL wait--who must be patient--for God to finish the work of the promise that Jesus' birth, life, death, and resurrection began to fulfill. In the end, the hope and peace of Simeon is only made complete when the risen Christ is recognized at last, just as the two on the road to Emmaus discovered shortly after they despairingly said, "We had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel."

In fact, I want to leave you with this truth tonight/this morning: The story of Simeon reminds us that God is not in a hurry. That God is patient. God is so patient that as the early church father Tertullian put it, God is so patient he scatters light cross the world to the just and the unjust, allows the earth to yield fruit to the worthy and the unworthy, bears the sins and wrongdoings of humans, and restrains his wrath as evil people go about their lives oblivious to God. In fact, Tertullian made this profound comment: "The most visible sign of God's patience is the Incarnation. For God allowed himself to be conceived in the womb of a woman and waited patiently for the months to pass before the birth of Christ." And, then, Tertullian noted that when God was born as a human he patiently underwent the various stages of childhood and adolescence, became an adult, didn't rush to be recognized and even allowed himself to be baptized by his own servant. And the supreme example of his patience, says Tertullian, was Christ's passion. St. Augustine said, "The passion of our Lord is a lesson in patience."

You know, among the ancient world's philosophers patience was never mentioned as a virtue. It was Christianity that praised patience as a virtue, because it was modeled after God's. It was modeled after the God who has patiently worked through history to bring about his salvation . . . after God who does not overlook our sin, but who " forebears" our sin in order to lead us to repent and change our ways . . . after God who reminds us through the Apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians that "love is patient and kind and does not insist on its own way.

The Greek word for patience is makrothymia. It refers to "a widening of the heart in order to diffuse anger" . . . a "prolonged restraint of anger." And the New Testament reminds us that there's a "wideness in God's mercy." When a water pipe is widened it relieves the pressure that a narrower pipe had constricted. Similarly, when our hearts are widened with God's patience they diffuse the anger and release the pressure we feel to have things done our way and in our time. Think about this the next time the green light appears in front of you and you hear the honk from the car behind. As someone put it, patience is something you admire greatly in the driver behind you but not in the one ahead of you.

This patience is not some "gritting your teeth" endurance, but a longing that acts out of hope--just as Simeon responded to God's promise by his "righteous and devout" life, "looking forward," being guided by the Holy Spirit to see by faith--among all the parents and children whom he had no doubt seen come and go--the one baby who was the salvation of Israel.

Why did God take so long before he sent the "consolation of Israel" into our history as he had promised to Eve and Abraham and David and Isaiah? Why is God taking so long before he finishes bringing his complete shalom to this world that rebelled against him so long ago? Why does God seem to be taking so long in y our life? We don't know. What I do know is what Tertullian reminded us of when he said, "Impatience is of the devil," for our impatience brings with it anger and hatred and revenge and, ultimately, despair. God's ways are not ours.

What are you waiting for? In your waiting will you imitate the patience of God or the impatience of the devil? And if you want to wait with patience like God, then I encourage you to mediate on the long history of God's salvation in the Bible as Simeon did . . . to think about who God is and how patiently he has dealt with us . . . and to rest in the patience of a God whose time is not our time.