Richard Davenport
December 31, 2023 – First Sunday after Christmas
Luke 2:22-40
Our gospel reading today has another event in Jesus’ early life. Though Jesus has only been born for a few weeks now, things have already settled down. It’s actually a pretty stark change from the riotous events surrounding his birth. Still, for all of the mundaneness we seem to be seeing now, we remember the reality of the situation. Mary and Joseph are brand new parents. We don’t hear anything about their own parents being around, so we don’t know exactly what kind of support they get, but we do know they have extended family around at the very least. Nevertheless, they are new parents, with everything that goes along with learning how to care for this wiggling, messy, new creature. Granted, I’m sure they had an easier time of it than most. Jesus napped when he was supposed to. Jesus didn’t play little games seeing how many times he could get dad to pick his stuffed animal after he chucked it out of the crib, that sort of thing. He really was a model baby. He still made messes that needed cleaning up. He still needed to be fed in the middle of the night and all of that. So it’s not quite as if there was no learning curve there.
On top of learning what it means to be new parents, you have all of this other stuff to deal with. Nowadays I suppose you have things like well child checkups and that sort of thing, just to make sure everything is going ok, but this wasn’t a part of any of that. Both mom and dad have had a lot to do in all of this. First there’s the pregnancy itself and, sorry Joseph, no OB doctor there to help you through it, so you’ve got to be the guy. Not to mention, a few days later you get the honor of circumcising your own kid. So that’s something to look forward to. Then, after a few weeks, you pack up the family and head off to the temple to offer a sacrifice for Mary’s ritual purification after the pregnancy.
What might be interesting from a Lutheran perspective is how all of this middle stuff doesn’t say anything about the gospel, the good news. Jesus is born, but after that it’s all Law, Law, Law. In our reading for today, the Law comes up three times before Simeon even steps into the picture. If Jesus is here and he’s the big deal he’s supposed to be, then why are we still dealing with the Law so much?
Why do they need to do any of this at all? Hasn’t the Law already kind of been rendered pointless? What possible value could there be to going through with all of this? It seems like just one more hoop to jump through before you can get back to the business of life.
I don’t doubt that it might have been frustrating for a lot of parents to have to do this. Just because this was the way things had been done for hundreds of years didn’t somehow make it less of a burden for you to deal with. Nevertheless, God’s Law was always about teaching you something important.
In this case, as parents, they had a lesson to learn right from the outset. After the pregnancy and labor, after all of the sleep deprivation, after dealing with all of the throw up and other wonderful things babies do, after the cleaning and bathing, after the smiles and giggles, after learning to talk, learning to walk, and all of the rest that happens as children naturally grow up, you might come under the misapprehension that this child is actually yours. You might get the idea in your head that all of this work, all of the time spent raising this child grants you ownership. But it doesn’t. Duties? Yes. Responsibilities? Yes. Supervision and stewardship? Also, yes. But not ownership. The child was never yours to begin with and none of the work you put into raising that child changes that. It isn’t some kind of rent to own program. The owner is and always will be God.
Mary and Joseph go to the temple with Jesus. The sacrifice is ostensibly for her purification after pregnancy. Eve brought shame and the curse to all women and so the whole process is tainted by sin. The message is for all of them. That’s even more the necessary in this instance. Jesus probably takes a lot less work to raise, since he always does what he’s told, but he’s also a much bigger deal. Mary showed great humility when the angel announced to her that she would bear the savior of the world. The moment she allows her ego to step in and claim she earned this status as the mother of God is the same moment she loses what she was celebrated for to begin with. Not her accomplishments. Not her skill as a mother. Not her charisma or her organizational skills or any of those things you might think of as a parent. Rather, it is the simple trust she has in God’s promise and her humility in receiving this wonderful gift.
The purification is a call to return to the source of that gift, to remember where it came from, to remember where you came from. The purification itself, onerous as it may seem, is a gift from God as well. It is your sin and your guilt that separate you from him. It is only through sacrifice and blood that you are brought back, but not your sacrifice, the sacrifice offered on your behalf.
God gives many gifts. In fact everything you have is a gift. Luther considers this as he reflects on the Apostles’ Creed, where he says, “I believe in God, the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth. What does this mean? I believe that God has made me and all creatures; that He has given me my body and soul, eyes, ears, and all my members, my reason and all my senses, and still takes care of them. He also gives me clothing and shoes, food and drink, house and home, wife and children, land, animals, and all I have. He richly and daily provides me with all that I need to support this body and life. He defends me against all danger and guards and protects me from all evil. All this He does only out of fatherly, divine goodness and mercy, without any merit or worthiness in me.”
It’s all a gift. Everything you have. Everything you are has been given to you by God. This sentiment is especially pertinent here in the Christmas season. Even as adults, there’s the tendency to look toward Christmas with thoughts of all of the gifts you’ll get. Maybe you got what you really wanted. Maybe you didn’t. Regardless of what it was, God calls on you to remember where it all came from to begin with. Even the time you spent with family and friends is a gift he has given you to cherish. Not because of anything you’ve done, not because you’re clever or witty, not because your stylish and debonaire, not because you’re hard-working or helpful or compassionate or brave or anything else you might think of. In fact, your sin has separated you from him. You have forfeited any rights you might have, any privileges you think you deserve.
The forgiveness he gives you is a gift. The salvation he gives you is a gift. The life you have is a gift, both now and eternally. Your calling as his disciple and his child through baptism is a gift. Your calling as his apostle through communion, spreading the good news to all nations is also a gift. All of the mundane things, all of the spiritual things, all gifts given by him. That he brings you here is a gift. That he sends his son as a tiny baby into the world of sinful men is a gift.
For Mary and Joseph, the response to this gift was to come to Jerusalem, to the temple, to the place where God dwelled and offered his mercy. They were to come to his place so that her uncleanness could be taken away by the blood of a sacrifice offered on her behalf.
This formal ritual may be gone. The temple is certainly gone, but the sentiment and the teaching of the law remains. As Luther concludes his explanation of the First Article, he says, “For all this it is my duty to thank and praise, serve and obey Him.” We come to his house today at his behest. We come to worship him. We come to be purified and made clean by him. He calls us here, to the place he promises to be, to the place he promises his forgiveness, and we are reminded that we have earned nothing and deserve nothing. It is his grace alone that saves and we are all recipients of that gift.
Now in the Christmas season, we reflect on what it means for God to be born into human flesh. This tiny baby in a manger. Sure he has that baby smell. Sure he has baby giggles. Sure he likes to snuggle up with his mamma. I’m sure Mary and Joseph cherished all of these moments, but here, the prophetess Anna gives them a stark reminder of why Jesus is here. The birds Mary and Joseph bring for the purification sacrifice were pointing to this tiny baby. He is the gift that redeems, that purifies, that saves. His blood will be shed. His life will be given, all so that his people may be made clean.
As we look at this passage from our perspective, the scene is bittersweet. There is the aspect of everyday life to it. Mary and Joseph probably don’t truly understand what Jesus is going to do or how he’s going to do it. Little do they know that eventually he will return to this town to die, his blood poured out for the sins of many.
God has given them this time together, to be his parents and to be a family together. But one day he will call his Son back, for he has another job to do. The wonder is that, after all is said and done, he is given to us again. Jesus rises again. Jesus returns again. Jesus comes to his people again to spend time with them and share their lives again. He returns to us every Sunday to share that meal together, a family meal, where the blood that he poured out so long ago continues to make us pure and clean, washes our uncleanness away.
This Christmas season, we remember gift God has given to us and why he chose to give it. We give thanks, as is right and proper, because his Son truly is a gift. We give thanks that he came to die and that he comes to us again to continue making his people clean and worthy to be in his presence.