The Presentation of Christ in the Temple – Candemas – Sunday, 1st February 2026 – St Mary Magdalene, Outwood – Parish Eucharist
Malachi 3:1-5 | Psalm 24 | Hebrews 2:14-18 | Luke 2:22-40
Today we return, briefly, to the story of Mary and Joseph, with Jesus as an infant, in what appears to be a moment of quiet celebration, when Jesus is presented in the Temple. This is the ritual presentation of a first-born male child, brought before God in obedience to the Law, bound up with rites of purification.
Luke tells this story simply and humbly. Mary and Joseph travel to Jerusalem as faithful parents doing what the Law requires. There they encounter Simeon and Anna — servants of God, shaped by hope, commitment and prayer. We are not told how old Simeon was, or how long he had waited for the Messiah; perhaps he had watched many children pass through the Temple, wondering each time whether this might be the one. But in this moment, something is revealed to him: a truth of deep significance — that through this small, vulnerable child, God will bring about things of great promise and great cost.
Anna and Simeon are not remarkable because of power or position. They are remarkable because they have been faithful. They have put in the hours – praying, worshipping, waiting. Their discipleship is one of attentiveness to the Holy Spirit, of being present and ready for God to act. This, in many ways, is the essence of Christian discipleship throughout the Gospels: watching, waiting, staying open — and recognising God when he appears, often in unexpected ways. And in this moment, they too are ready.
Simeon and Anna live in patient hope in a world where suffering is normal and power belongs elsewhere. The ruler of their world is Caesar Augustus, whose authority is absolute – enforced through might and fear. Yet Luke offers no direct confrontation with Caesar. Instead, he places hope for Israel in a baby — born to parents who can barely afford the offering required by the Law. Through perseverance and trust, Simeon and Anna glimpse what God may be doing in this ordinary family from Nazareth. In this child, they see the promise of salvation — not only for Israel, but for all people – indeed for the whole world.
On the one hand, these passages from scripture are familiar and yet they still prompt our questions of what it means for us in our faith-filled futures.
I may have mentioned before that, for many years, I was part of the worshipping community at Wakefield Cathedral. I started attending there in the late 90’s, after a long absence from worship. I was encountering church and discipleship afresh, amidst a long period of challenges, and with new questions and hopes.
One question I had was – why is the enormous nativity structure – let’s call it a crib – still in evidence at the end of January? (Perhaps you have seen the Austin Wright Crib – it is quite contemporary.) And what was Candlemas and why were there candles and a procession? Answers were forthcoming, but explanations are not always enough.
Like much of what we receive from the New Testament, it needs careful listening, context, maybe discussion, prayer and time, to gain some perspective about our own selves and how we are presented daily to God. Symbols and stories cannot just stand alone. I don’t think we are good at being told – “that’s just the way it is – it always has been, it’s a tradition, just accept it”.
God takes time in us, and we are challenged greatly to acknowledge that we don’t have all the answers now, and that our trust in God is not a constant, but exists through grace.
And in all of this, we find ourselves, as ever, on the threshold of transformation. Jesus – Messiah – a light to all the nations…. The Kingdom of God confronts the kingdom of the world… and prevails.
Luke, again…
Then Simeon blessed them and said to his mother Mary, ‘This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed….’ (34-35)
The inner thoughts of many will be revealed…
It doesn’t take much searching to see where such inner thoughts are revealed in human action – in attitudes and response to human need. All that brings out the good and the bad in each of us.
The prophet Malachi spoke of God’s judgement on –
those who oppress the hired workers in their wages, the widow, and the orphan, against those who thrust aside the alien, and do not fear God.
Just as relevant today as it ever was in times past.
Have we neglected to fear God in our failure to love one another? Again, our trust is not a constant, but a lifetime of waiting and watching…. Failing and being transformed…
Reading these passages again, in this present moment, and from where I now stand in my own life, I find myself asking a different question – one both simple and unsettling: what is it that I bring when I present myself before God? What do I place before God in the temple of daily, created life — and here, in this holy place? What do I bring with me?
When I review my life, to date — much of it shaped by an effort, often flawed and incomplete, to live as a disciple — I’m not always sure it looks like a blessing. I do not always shine as a light, and often I feel that I illuminate very little, for very few. And yet, if I am honest, I know that I am being changed — a slow, quiet yet persistent transformation – a little at a time.
The faithfulness of Anna and Simeon can sound inspiring when we hear it read aloud, but their devotion was not a moment; it was a lifetime. A lifetime of turning up. Of hope and disappointment. Of perseverance that included failure as well as trust. Their holiness was not perfection, but attentiveness — staying present long enough for God to be revealed in human form.
And perhaps that is what it means for us, too. Perseverence. To stand before God each day of our lives, not perfect or complete, but willing to be seen as we are. To wait and watch, and to trust that God is still revealing himself — and still at work — in us.
It turns out that I really like Candlemas! Perhaps it’s the candles that signify light and warmth at this time of year. Perhaps it is also the recognition that we are at a turning point – from one narrative that speaks of birth and prophecy and magi and hope etc – to the next one, our travels together through Lent and Easter. In a short while, our closing liturgy speaks of our trust in God, our commitment to the Light of Christ and our need of prayerful sustenance on our journey to the Cross.
Perhaps, like me, you have kept your nativity crib in place until now. Probably not very popular! Christmas is long behind us. For most, the shops are catering for Saint Valentine and for Easter. We may finally put away these reminders of the incarnation. Yet what remains, as we turn, is our witness and trust in God; our hope-filled view for the world – in the Word made flesh.
As we grow daily with God, in faith and discernment, we might look to the example shown by Simeon and Anna. Like them, we too must perceive the world through faith – to look beyond all the ways in which the world falls over, that hope can prevail. Not just for us, but our sisters and brothers everywhere.
So today, let our candles be a light in our own darkness, that we might become lights that give hope and warmth to others. I close with a prayer…
Gracious God,
whose beloved Son was presented in the Temple in the substance of our flesh:
grant that we may be daily presented to you
with hearts that are open, honest, and pure.
Grant to us the patience and faith of Anna and Simeon,
ready to recognise your work in the small, the hidden, and the humble.
May your light, carried first in Mary’s arms,
shine now in our lives,
guiding us to hope, service, and love.
God be with you.
Amen.
Image: SB Candlemas 2026.jpeg (Love Divine, All Love Excelling v3)