Advent II: Simeon (A Promise Paired with Death)

Now there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon, and this man was righteous and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. And it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord's Christ. And he came in the Spirit into the temple, and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him according to the custom of the Law, he took him up in his arms and blessed God and said,

“Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace,
according to your word;
for my eyes have seen your salvation
that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
light for revelation to the Gentiles,
and for glory to your people Israel.”

- Luke 2:25-32

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at the beginning he felt full to bursting 
with the promise sparking through his veins 
he would touch his hand to his skin 
and be surprised it was still intact and not 
split apart by glory like the skin of an old grape 

as decades passed the star within 
cooled, compressed into an ember
a dense seed buried between his ribs
watered by years of waking up to the same 
slant of light over the same slice of wall 

now when he touches his skin
he feels how like an animal hide 
it is, too tough to be torn apart 
strong enough to hold together 
under the peculiar pain of a promise 
that is paired with one’s own death 

once, he had imagined dying young
strong-armed lieutenant of Israel's King
with the first gray hair he realizes
he will barely be able to raise his hands
in praise when the day finally comes

this hope is wine blossoming in a barrel 
agony of metamorphosis in isolation 
slow growth of sweetness and depth in the dark  
one day to be poured over seeking lips 
and named as a glory, glory hallelujah 
safeguarded until then as a seed that says 
someday will still really become now

I woke up in the middle of the night a couple days ago thinking about how I needed to write my weekly Advent poem. I was trying to think about what moves me about this season and I was thinking about waiting and about the real people caught up in this grand cosmic saga and I thought about Simeon.

I’m often kind of jealous of him—he got told, explicitly, directly, that a certain thing would happen to him before he died. And not just any old thing but a crazy glorious thing—he would see the long-awaited Messiah?! Talk about a good fortune cookie.

But of course it's more complicated than that because I'm sure he didn't know exactly what the Messiah would look like and he certainly didn't know how long it would take. Before death—did he assume when he first heard that prophecy that it would be at the end of his life, the culminating act before his last breath? Or did he think that it would come much sooner, and he would get to bask in the glow of seeing the Messiah for decades afterward? Did he fret himself over the timeline? Luke says he was righteous and the righteous aren't supposed to worry and yet he was also a human. How do you wake up every day knowing that this could be the greatest day of your life? And then do that again and again until you’re old and withered and every joint aches?

It makes me think of how many glorious things are promised to me. Many of them—like the idea that God will satisfy the desires of my heart—will surely not look as I expect. Some are not guaranteed until after I've died—like no tears and no pain. Some I know are present now with me—like the Holy Spirit, the Counselor and Comforter, set on me as a seal—and yet the fruit of those promises most often tastes bitter or simply bland. This Advent I wonder, what does it look like to wait well for a promise?

All year Andy Squyres’ refrain in “You Bring the Morning” has been haunting me:

You bring the comfort I'll bring my thinking
You bring the new wine I'll bring the drinking
You bring your spirit I'll bring the weeping
I have nothing else but the promises you're keeping

The way he cries out that last line—that’s it. These promises we’re given, they can bring with them such pain and yet they are so precious. They’re painful because what is promised is good and we want it so desperately. And if sometimes all you have is the wanting, and the fulfillment feels unfathomably far, then that’s enough. Want with all that you are.

Because Simeon did, at last, get to hold the Lord’s Christ.

In Other Words…

I’ve added some songs to my Advent playlist! Please continue to send recs as you think of them.

goodreads (books)

A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller, Jr. (5 stars) | The Fellowship of the Ring (reread) by you-better-know-who-this-is-by (5 stars, duh)

letterboxd (movies)

Shrek the Musical (3.5 stars) | A Charlie Brown Christmas (4.5 stars) | The Fellowship of the Ring (5 stars, again duh)

Tell me: which character in the Christmas story is making you stop and ponder this Advent? What's your reaction to Simeon’s story? Thank you as always for reading and sharing your thoughts. Here’s to staying awake.

~ Aberdeen