LUKE could not have known what we would do with his story. Neither the glitzy gewgaws of Christmas nor the Lord’s carefully timed nativity feast were part of his good news back in the first century AD. Yet it is Luke who links up the two ends of Christmas, turning the Lord’s nativity into a season rather than a moment.
The first mention of Jesus as Messiah, Christos, comes when angels announce good tidings of great joy for all people to some shepherds (2.11). The next mention of that title comes in this Gospel, at verse 26, where we learn of the Holy Spirit’s message to Simeon: that, before he died, he would see the Christ.
Although more than a month separates these two Gospels in the Church’s liturgy, a mere 15 verses separate them within Luke’s Gospel. There, proof follows promise with remarkable rapidity. What is more, the causative factor at work in apparently humble human affairs — the Holy Spirit — is woven through both. We can trace the action of the Holy Spirit right from the incarnation (1.35), and we learn that, even from Mary’s womb, the Christ-child has an effect on individuals through the Holy Spirit (1.41).
Now, on 2 February, comes Candlemas. It is also known as the Presentation of Christ in the Temple, and the Purification of St Mary the Virgin. That range of titles offers a lot of potential themes for a commentator: blessing (of candles for the year); a Temple epiphany; and — more sensitive because of the implication of “uncleanness” — purification.
Rather than explain how this layering of remembrances arose, or try to cover too much (“like butter scraped over too much bread”, in Tolkein’s memorable expression), I am highlighting two pieces of the whole which, as I was reading, jumped out at me and demanded to be investigated. That verb “investigate” is a favourite of mine. It sticks in my memory as a lightbulb moment when I first learned Latin; for vestigium means “footstep”, so “investigate” means tracking something or someone’s footsteps. Equally, I enjoy the enlightening of English conferred by knowing that supercilium is the Latin word for “eyebrow”).
My two highlights feature in verses 25 and 38. The first is “the consolation of Israel”. The second is “the redemption of Jerusalem”. Reading both phrases, we may not think twice about the linguistic shorthand that allows us to say that a nation can be consoled, or a city redeemed. Such wording need be no more than a convenient way of referring to a whole people (Israel), or a whole population (Jerusalem). It goes without saying that not every single one of the children of Israel must be consoled, any more than every inhabitant of a city must be redeemed. That fact of group versus individual identity was long ago shown up by Abraham (Genesis 18.23-33).
Can I pull an etymological rabbit out of a metaphorical hat to cast light on the meanings of “consolation” and “redemption”? Perhaps. I have referred before to the word “redemption” as meaning “buying back”. It can mean a price paid for the return of hostages, which is topical as I write — though, please God, events will have moved on by the time you are reading — or the release of a debtor after payment of a penalty.
We have confidence in Anna’s prophecy that this baby will “ransom” or “redeem” his people, because it is a corroboration, from a completely different source, of what the Song of Zechariah proclaimed in the previous chapter (1.68). Ransom and redemption are financial transactions; so the language helps to show a concrete judgement being made rather than a vague tone set, as one thing of value is exchanged with another.
What about “consolation”? In Greek, it is paraclesis; but the term is not alien, despite its ancient origin; for many Christians are familiar with it. This becomes clear the moment we realise that someone who effects paraclesis is called a “paraclete”. Versions of John 14.16 from the Roman tradition (Vulgate, Douai-Rheims, New Jerusalem Bible) retain this Greek word, “Paraclete”, for the Holy Spirit. Reformed translations tend to vary between two words to encapsulate its meaning: either “Comforter” or “Advocate”.
Thus, the “consolation of Israel” embraces powerful blessings, namely, comfort and defence; and a third shade of meaning should be factored in: encouragement. Simeon’s song says that encompassing all three will enlighten Jew and Gentile alike.