There is a section of the print version of the New York Times that always amuses me. As I make my way through the various sections each weekend, I often find myself reading this part, even though it has a disclaimer at the top: “This section should not be read by grown-ups.”
Truth be told, it takes me a few seconds of reading before I realize that I’m in the category of those who should be avoiding this section. Although it’s intended for non-adults, this kids-only section does not necessarily avoid challenging topics.
This past weekend’s edition covered everything ranging from the January 6th capitol attacks, unemployment, the Covid vaccine, and wildfires in California. I have found that this kids-only section is fairly straightforward and direct. Information that the adult sections present in more nuanced and yet flowery language are stated with surprising bluntness for kids. The truth is not veiled under political concerns. It is stated with unabashed honesty. You should read the section on the events of January 6 if you want to get a glimpse of this.
All of this has made me wonder if adults should, in fact, be reading this section. When I discover, a few seconds in, that I’m reading a kids’ section, I usually somewhat guiltily place this portion of the paper down. It somehow feels off-limits to me, as if I’ve intruded onto the scene of an innocence that I have lost. Am I now too jaded to appreciate the honest clarity of a children’s-only section of a major newspaper? That is perhaps a better question than imagining that news for kids is too infantile for me as an adult. The longer I live, the more I know how profoundly untrue that assumption is.
Today, we celebrate what it means to be taught, indeed, governed by a Child. I am particularly moved every time I hear the Alleluia verse assigned for today’s feast. “The old man carried the Child: but the Child governed the old man.” This verse encapsulates one of the great mysteries revealed to us on this beautiful feast of the Church.
This evening, in our celebration and in our encounter with the Gospel passage from Luke, we are taken into a kids-only section of our story of faith. It should indeed come with a warning that we will be challenged. But rather than discouraging adults from reading this section, the warning should tell every adult to pick up the story immediately and feast on it.
St. Luke is marvelous at upending expectations. Mary’s song, the Magnificat, epitomizes Luke’s theology of the Great Reversal. In Christ, the poor are lifted up, the haughty are cast down, the hungry are fed, and the meek are exalted. This is a theology that is quite difficult for many adults to grasp. But I think children are capable of getting it immediately. They can teach us to be more porous to the hard truths we tend to deflect.
And so in the story of Jesus’ presentation in the Temple, we find this theology of the Great Reversal wending its way into our hearts and imaginations. In this cherished story, the Savior of the world enters the human story with a piercing sword to splice through deceit, vainglory, oppressive power, and rigid self-preservation.
Jesus doesn’t trample down religious systems and human customs, but he carries a light into the midst of them that shines through the darkness of resistance and closed minds. With no story of the magi, Luke presents Jesus’ revelation to the world from the midst of the requirements of Jewish law.
Jesus’ family conforms to the law, and Jesus enters the world under the obligations and structures of that law. God’s ways do not stomp things down from on high but restructure our existing order from below and within. Jesus enters the human story under the guardianship of two parents who were not wealthy enough to offer an expensive sacrifice at the time of his presentation, but had to settle for two turtledoves, the offering of the poor.
And when Jesus is brought into the Temple precincts, he finds some surprising people waiting for him. They are not simply adults ready to learn from the perspective of a child. These adults are quite old, Simeon on the verge of death, and Anna, well into her eighties.
The first words of Simeon upon taking Jesus into his arms are to call him Lord or Master. The old man may have carried the Child, but Simeon knows that this Child is governing him. This Child is his master. He needs this Child as his master. And Simeon is wise and humble enough to learn from this Child.
Anna, too, seems to defy our expectations that she may be tired after eighty years and unreceptive to this young Child brought into the Temple. She immediately connects this infant with the restoration of good fortune for Israel. Anna and Simeon do not seem too ashamed or to elevated in their thinking to learn from a page in the children’s section of the paper.
But this Child, of course, is no ordinary child. And Anna and Simeon know this. Simeon states this knowledge with startling clarity to Mary: “this child is set for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is spoken against (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), that thoughts out of many hearts may be revealed.”
The Savior of the world’s presentation in a Temple will be a wondrous subversion of the usual order. In this story, Jesus enters a world run by adults but that really needs to be governed by a Child. It is a world run amuck. Jesus’ parents, in their poverty, would have known all too well the sorrow of living under oppressive rule. Anna and Simeon, too, must have felt the burden of the times, because they knew that the entrance of this Child into the world would bring a seismic shift in the social fabric.
And it is to the voice of this Child that we must turn as well. We inhabit a world conditioned and governed by the distorted ways of adults. We live in a world of YouTube, where videos are marked as intended for children or not. And the truth is that, rather than perpetually deciding what the children need from us, we could benefit from what we can learn from the children, and especially from that holy Child who continues to govern our lives. We need to be living in a world of the Child who speaks an uneasy truth with crystalline depth and whose word is so sharp that the proud will fall and the humble will rise.
This is not a truth that is easy for grown-ups to take. Old ways die hard. The systems of our own construction are built to buttress our own needs and desires, and this often comes with a terrible cost. And too often, we ignore the kids-only section of the newspaper, because we much prefer the highfalutin articles that justify our own comfort and safety and speak around the truth. And children frequently speak directly to the truth with remarkable candor.
Today we celebrate the uncomfortable truth that we, as Christians, are called to carry a powerful Light into the world. Like the candles we lighted earlier in the Mass, our selves, our souls and bodies, are lights that are to shine forth a greater Light into a world that is covered in darkness.
The darkness of this adult world does not usually like to confront the light. The light shines on all its sordid corners and reveals all the things we like to stash away in the closet. This light is too much for pupils that have been dilated from years spent in the dark.
And even though this adult world does not know it is in need of the light, it is. We are the bearers of this light. Although we carry this light, it is the light that governs us.
What will you do with this light that is shining in your soul? Will you bring it forth into the darkness or will you hide it under a bushel basket? Will you let it shine, or will you try to extinguish the candle? Will you be ashamed of its innocent clarity and bold truth, or will you let it govern every aspect of your life? Will you speak the truth, or will you talk around it?
There is a whole host of adults out there, beyond the walls of this church, who are longing to see this light. Some know it but don’t know where to find it. Others prefer the cover of darkness but would be changed if they came face to face with this light.
This light is burning in you. Whether you let it shine or try to hide it, it is governing you. It will be the cause of the fall of many and the rise of so many others. It will pierce souls. It will break some hearts. But Simeon reminds us of its real purpose. It will dismiss us in peace. It will send us into a redeemed world not governed by adults but a glorious world whose master is a Child.
Now, go in peace. Take this light into the world. Let this Child be your Master. This section of our collective story, is written by a Child, and it most definitely needs to be read by adults.
Sermon by Father Kyle Babin
The Feast of the Presentation of Our Lord Jesus Christ in the Temple
February 2, 2021