The Presentation of Christ in the Temple Luke 2.22-40.
50th Anniversary of Ordination to the Priesthood
Sermon Preached by Reverend Michael Hillier on Sunday, 2 February 2025
There’s nothing quite like getting lost in a good, satisfying story, whether in a film or a book. You feel completely immersed, and the world around you seems to fade away. It adds another layer of enjoyment if it’s beautifully written or filmed. We see all this in our Gospel story today.
In today’s gospel, Mary and Joseph take Jesus to Jerusalem, as tradition dictates, to present Him to God in the temple and make the necessary offerings. Their specific sacrificial gifts, two turtledoves or two young pigeons, suggest that they came from a low-income family, a detail that underscores Jesus’ humble beginnings.
Then, something extraordinary happens out of the blue. At that moment, the Spirit nudges Simeon, who walks closely with God, to come to the temple, see the Christ child, and offer words of hope and comfort, along with the more distressing message that a sword will pierce the souls of Mary and Joseph. These are words no parent would want to hear about their child, as they signify pain and suffering.
In that meeting, Simeon blesses Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. He utters the beautiful words, ‘Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace …’ These words are known as the Nunc Dimittis, in which Simeon recognises that his earthly work is complete and that his death is drawing near.
And in case Mary and Joseph were a bit spiritually dense, as we all can be, God reiterated His message through Anna’s words. Now 84, she spent much of her time in the temple precincts praying. God wanted Mary and Joseph to understand quite clearly, even forcefully, albeit indistinctly, the journey they were embarking on with Jesus. Later, Jesus would need to follow His own path, but they were raising Him for now. Anna, a devout and prophetic figure, played a crucial role in this divine revelation.
Simeon and Anna were two quite ordinary people who walked closely with God. In their lives, they marched to the beat of a different drummer, noticing what others overlooked in their hustle and bustle.
Anna and Simeon were nothing out of the ordinary. Of course, they were special in the way that we all hold a unique place in God’s eyes, but I believe they were just two ordinary people who heeded that distant, gentle whisper of God speaking to their hearts. They had to decide to listen, and they did.
The visit to the temple to present the Christ child to God can be seen as a pivotal moment in human history. Yet only two individuals truly understood its significance: Simeon and Anna. Mary and Joseph sensed something important was unfolding, but they were beginning their journey and couldn’t grasp its true impact.
In our busy, entertaining world, it’s easy to overlook the voice of God whispering in our hearts.
The brochures I’ve distributed over the past few months aim to help you discover new and deeper ways to listen to God’s ‘small voice’ within.
Today’s gospel story is a reflection of our own lives. It serves as a reminder that we must be vigilant not to overlook God’s presence in our lives and the world around us. We often fail to see what’s bubbling beneath the surface of our daily routine, occasionally surfacing. We all allow busyness to overwhelm us at times. But God is actively working in our world and lives, yet we often fail to recognise it, even when it’s right before us. Recognising God’s presence can bring us closer to Him, enlighten us, and deepen our spiritual connection.
Let me approach this from a different angle now. It was 50 years ago today that I was ordained a priest in Saint Peter’s Cathedral. I am profoundly grateful to God for this blessing. As you might expect, there have been challenging moments, but I have truly loved my work and the great privilege of being a priest. I want to share with you some personal reflections on my 50 years of service to give you a deeper understanding of my journey and the lessons I’ve learned along the way.
In some respects, being a priest is akin to Simeon and Anna in the temple. I’ll admit I don’t spend all day in church, but they were actively involved in God’s work, listening for what He might be conveying, embodying His presence within that community, and guiding people towards Him. That’s what I strive to do. We all share this mission; it belongs to everyone, though some are called to fulfil it more deliberately than others.
I want to share my perspective on the priesthood, drawing from my experience and its connection to Anna and Simeon. Many people understandably have a limited understanding of what I actually do. My aim here isn’t to list practical tasks but to offer a more philosophical view through the lens of theology and spirituality.
I believe there are four critical areas for me as a priest to engage in, and the word that ties them together, the glue, if you will, is ‘presence’. Each area could undoubtedly be elaborated upon with specific activities at certain times. But here, in this sermon, I do overlook diocesan commitments, and all clergy (and others) must look beyond the local to grasp the bigger picture.
So, what are these four?
Firstly, there is a priestly presence. As a priest, I need time to read, reflect, and pray for ‘my’ people and the world. This role involves holding individuals before God, taking the longer view, and looking beyond the present moment. A fitting metaphor here might be that of a tree, which establishes its taproot deeply, allowing it to endure during droughts. Today, this approach contrasts sharply with a world that is restlessly and constantly chasing the new, characterised by a 24-hour news cycle and dominated by platforms like Facebook and X or Twitter, along with trends such as ‘the selfie’.
Secondly, there is a pastoral presence. Practising this involves taking the time to be with others and genuinely trying to listen to them. In an era when people are often reduced to figures and statistics and time is valued economically, my time can be a great gift to individuals, especially those struggling. I’ve always tried to view it as a ‘leisured busyness’.
Third, there is a liturgical presence. Worship encompasses various levels and meanings, and while the priest’s role is to lead the service, supported by others, there exists another layer where clergy aim to make God tangible for worshippers through our spiritual leadership. We should encourage people to engage more deeply with God’s presence during worship. At its best, this can be a wonderful gift to the congregation.
Fourth and finally, there is an encouraging teaching presence. This aspect also seeks to shape the Christian community through teaching, practical engagement, and encouragement, acting as God’s open hand to the world. With the congregation, I strive to model what God’s community could look like at its best, reflecting that profound relationship within the Trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
In summary, I, along with other priests, am called to be a presence in our communities that helps people discover God’s love for all and supports their responses. This has always been a great joy, privilege, and responsibility for me.
Each of us has specific roles, and we all experience our ministry uniquely. My vocation might be more focused, but as we are reminded in 1 Peter, together we are all ‘a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people’. (2:9) Anna and Simeon completed their unique tasks by listening attentively to God and observing what others missed. You and I are called to do the same. Listening to God’s voice can guide and reassure us in our spiritual journey.