Advent poem: Simeon

Picture this:
You live in Jerusalem,
the holy city.
The graying hairs in your beard,
the lines cutting deep into the corners of your
eyes, and beneath your eyes,
on your forehead,
your pace slowing,
your strength seeping out of you with every moment--
more gone every morning you wake--
all the telling signs of age
weighing you down,
pulling you into the dust.
Yet you live.

Picture this:
As a young man
you devote yourself to God
pray, sacrifice, go to synagogue, and
do everything to please God.
You see the oppression of your people--
of God's people--
a Jewish boy struck by a Roman soldier
beaten
and left for dead in the streets
and you weep.
You pray
for the consolation of Israel
God's chosen people
the broken.

Picture this:
The Holy Spirit comes to you
in a dream
a whisper in the darkness
a small voice,
as to His servant Moses.
His plan revealed: The promised Mashiach
the redeemer of Israel, the King
born as a humble man...
the Lord tells you
you will see this man, God's chosen Man
before you see death.
You wake;
you remember;
you believe.

Picture this:
Fifty years.
Waiting.
Your family, your friends
die,
move away,
leave you alone...
and you wait.
The promise of God
burns in your heart like a brand
at first. But time heals, cools,
and you are alone, and you wait,
and doubt
doubt creeps in.
Years tick by
and the Mashiach has not come.
You cling fiercely to a trust that fades with every decade.
You begin to feel small
in your empty house
Your prayers turn from "bring my Messiah"
to "bring my death"
You hear the whispered reply,
"Soon,"
and don't know which prayer
is being answered.

Years.
Doubt.
And still you pray.

One warm night you fall into despair.
Your prayers are of lost hope,
of anguish,
of betrayal.
The promise of your youth
is a promise broken
unfulfilled
A betrayal
by the God you have served so long,
so faithfully.
You rage bitterly against your God
and He is silent.
You fall asleep with wet cheeks
and the darkness is empty.

Picture this:
You wake
feeling shame at your despair.
Under influence of your guilt
and something else--
perhaps nothing but a feeling...
you set out for the temple.
You start at a slow walk
(your joints creak with every step
and the dust kicks into your lungs)
but soon
a growing sense of urgency.
You cannot run
but you pick up the pace
faster and
faster and


Picture this:
A young couple in the temple
presenting their child to God
redemption in silver
and a sacrifice of two turtledoves

A usual event.
And there is nothing extraordinary
in the couple
or the baby--
but God whispers in your ear
and you know.

Picture this:
You shock the young parents
take their son in your arms
You are unbothered by his smallness
how he has appeared
He, the Mashiach,
as a tiny, chubby, sleeping baby
You can only marvel
at the faithfulness of your God
and once more
you weep
For your nation,
and for its deliverance,
nestled unobtrusively in your arms.
This child
destined to cause the falling
and rising
of Israel,
opposed
so that the thoughts of many hearts
may be revealed.

You weep
and kiss this tiny babe's forehead--
the savior
the Mashiach
you have waited a thousand lifetimes to see.

A promise fulfilled
and all despair is forgotten.




Simeon... praised God, saying:

 “Sovereign Lord, as you have promised,
   you may now dismiss your servant in peace.
   For my eyes have seen your salvation,
   which you have prepared in the sight of all nations:
   a light for revelation to the Gentiles,
   and the glory of your people Israel.”
-Luke 2:28-32 NIV