Christmas day is past. It was a full season, as usual.  We have had the Festival Lights at the Botanical Gardens, the Boat Parade, and the Church Christmas Fair. I attended two big holiday parties, presided over four Advent services, a Blue Christmas service for grieving people, and a pageant, "Lessons and Carols," on Christmas Eve, followed by entertaining our family, who filled every bed we had. And now it is done. The morning after, I packed the CRV with all the leftover boxes, trash, bottles, and debris of the season and took it to the Boothbay Transfer Station. I ate more than necessary, even though one of the kid's visiting dogs devoured all the chocolate chip cookies off the kitchen counter. 

The day after Christmas is my father-in-law's birthday. For 93 years, his birthday is always in the shadow of the baby Jesus. This is the first time he has been with us on his birthday, and we did our best to make the day special. I made him eggs and coffee, and his grandkids wished him Happy Birthday, but they all had to set off to get back to work tomorrow. But there is no way to compete with all the Christmas hype, lights, and gifts. His birthday is still the day after. On top of that, he was born a twin, so he has always shared his birthday with the baby Jesus and his sister. 

Technically, it is still only the sixth day of the 12 days of Christmas, but the world has moved on. But as our reading from Luke's Gospel reminds us, Christmas does not end at the manger, with all the shepherds, angels, and cattle. Parents know that birth is not the end of the process but the beginning of the joy and slog of raising children. 

Luke 2 is eight days after the manger scene, and Mary and Joseph bring Jesus to be circumcised at the Temple in Jerusalem. Being devout, they offer the proper sacrifice of two turtle doves. Mary and Joseph want to do everything right with this child of Angel Gabriel's promise.

The central character in this scene is Simeon, an older man, maybe in his nineties, like my father-in-law. He shuffles his aching joints to the Temple and stands in the corner, waiting for something. Simeon believes he will see the Messiah before he dies, so he is vigilant. We don't know how many days Simeon came on his quest. Perhaps there were many babies brought to the Temple that day.

Simeon senses the moment has come. Was it something in the way the mother protectively held the infant? Or did Simeon feel an inward flutter of the heart? What does he think as he holds the Christ child? We might be shocked if some old man came out of the crowd and asked to hold our newborn, but people love to hold babies. They say things like, "What a beautiful baby! Look at his little fingers and toes. I've heard people say, "I could just eat you up," which is a bit terrifying—time to pass the baby to someone else. 

My question is, who should be blessing the baby Jesus, this Messiah? They are at the Temple in Jerusalem, one of the grandest religious sites in the world. Isn't there a priest around to bless Jesus? We have already had angels appear to Mary and the shepherds. In Matthew's Gospel, Joseph has a dream, and three magi follow a star to Jesus. But this vital scene of prophetic blessing has no priest, angels, or voice from heaven, just Simeon. All we are told is he was devout. He was looking for the healing of his people and listened to the Holy Spirit. Has he served on several church committees over his long years, maybe as the Senior Deacon? His only qualification to bless Jesus seems to be his deep faith that God will heal Israel. 

Simeon is not long-winded:

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."

This blessing could stir up both hope and controversy. Anyone within hearing would be happy with this baby being the glory of the people of Israel, but a light of revelation to the Gentiles? The Greek word here is "ethne." Here is a light to the various ethnicities. This sentiment is not unheard of in Judaism, as Isaiah 42 says that Israel is to be a light to the nations. Simeon's blessing makes the expansion of God's hopes to all people central to the work of Jesus. The Christ child is not just the hope of the Israel First crowd but to share God's light with everyone.

This scene allows Mary and Joseph to be amazed momentarily, but then Simeon presses on with an unexpected turn. 

"This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel and to be a sign that will be opposed ³⁵ so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul, too."

Being a light to the nations isn't always easy or popular. Light shining in the darkness brings clarity and truth, which is not what everyone wants. Some prefer comfortable illusions instead. They want their actions hidden in the dark. Simeon delivers a final warning to Mary, saying that a sword shall pierce her soul. I've baptized many babies and seen the delighted parents beaming through it all. I can't imagine saying to them, "Someday, your heart will be broken." But it happens. Jeanne had a quote on her refrigerator, 

"Deciding to have a child — it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." — Elizabeth Stone

Our story concludes with one more scene, with an 84-year-old woman prophetess named Anna, also praising the baby Jesus and offering a blessing. By the time this is over, I imagine Mary and Joseph looking around the Temple wondering, "Anyone else want to crash the party and bless our baby? The little drummer boy, the ghost of Christmas past, Wendy Lou Who?

I think the point of this story is more profound than announcing Jesus is truly a remarkable baby through whom God will do great things. I'm intrigued with Simeon and Anna taking on this task of blessing. They had no official capacity, just the inward faith to know the necessity of blessing.

What if we were always ready to give a blessing? Our theme from Advent has been the gift of being present. Imagine being present for the opportunities to bless. We often hang our banner out front that says, "Be a blessing." Being present and open to God isn't just hanging around for a blessing. A mature faith notices who needs a blessing. 

We can be quick to criticize and slow to bless. We are trained to look for what is wrong and correct it. We take pride in catching an error and calling it to someone's attention. But what if we looked to bless the efforts of others? When air travel was rare, people often clapped when the airplane landed and thanked the pilot on the way out. Now, people are often on their phones and on to the next thing. How often do we stop and thank someone for doing their work? 

Jeanne has been in a writing group for years that uses the Amherst feedback method. The rule is that feedback looks for what works. What inspired you, what turn of phrase resonated, and how did the narrator capture the moment? There is no correcting of grammar or pointing out awkward phrases. When Jeanne explains the group, people often say, don't you get to be a better writer from a critical eye pointing out your mistakes? Jeanne's answer is you have just given birth to something. It's fresh and tender. Creativity needs nurturing. Criticism can come later but in an environment of trust. Positive feedback spurs more energy and confidence. Criticism smothers the baby. It's like looking at the world with a focus on original sin rather than an original blessing. We get the whole world backward when we put criticism over blessing. 

I'm not saying everyone should get a trophy just for showing up. A true blessing must be honest and authentic. But if we stop to look, we will notice how many people are trying their best with little support. 

At the end of the new clergy group I facilitate, I always bless them. I tell them they are wonderful, compassionate, and courageous pastors. I remind them to have each other's backs and support each other and to take the time to heal from the grief, and the wounds received whenever you deal with humans. I know they are not perfect, and I know how much important work can never be shared because of confidentiality. 

What we bless rises. This truth is why we have a benediction at the end of every service. We bless you on your way because it is tough out there. Friends, be the blessing.

Lead with love. Pray often. Be joyful. Have courage. Encourage others. And bless!