Candlemas Homily

Purity, Presentation, Purpose, Principle

Homily for Candlemas

February 3, 2016

The Rev. David P. DeSalvo

Why is tonight’s service so important to us?

Tonight is the night when every member of the community shares in bringing light into the chapel, and I can’t resist the hope that this service be understood in the larger context of bringing the light of purity, purpose and principle into a dark world.

We began our service in a place we think of as the heart of community life, the source of daily bread, the place where we meet friends, pray over what has been prepared for us, hear announcements, and share lots of important experiences. The dining room is like the family kitchen at home. We hang out. We talk. We discuss things, and we eat. We light candles in that darkened hall, acknowledging that we are still in the winter of the year, when days are short and nights are long. But the days are lengthening, and gradually more light is apparent to us, as added minutes seem to delay each new sunset.

Then we come into the chapel to hear, again, a story about two people, named Mary and Joseph, who have brought their first born son to the temple, 40 days after his birth. This is a purity tradition, actually a Jewish purity law. A woman who has given birth waits 40 days before bringing a newborn son to the temple (longer if the child is a girl), and the parents dedicate their child to a holy purpose. Nothing captures the idea of purity with more clarity than the distinct and creative nature of a mother, a nature she shares with God alone. A mother carrying a child is pure.

The child we remember tonight is a holy child of God. His Presentation in the temple is an historical fact.

Being presented is another lesson of our Gospel story. We can all relate to those sometimes embarrassing moments when our parents introduce us to others, almost always older people. Perhaps you remember how your parents presented you to folks back in the day.

“This is my daughter Esmeralda. She is a gifted athlete. She sings like an angel, writes like budding Virginia Woolf too. Isn’t that right Esmeralda? … Esmeralda?!” She has disappeared. Who can blame her?

Or maybe it went this way for one of you guys out there:

“How do you do? Yes likewise, I’m sure. This is my son Reginald. Nothing but straight A’s at St. Groddlesex. Won the blue ribbon for spelling in 7^th grade. Can dance like Barynikov, can’t you Reginald? … Reginald?! Oh, please pardon him. He’s probably off practicing his Chopin.”

In this sense, maybe being presented as a baby would have spared us something similarly uncomfortable.

But back to the child we remember tonight, this holy child of God. Being holy is not something we can easily grasp, so I will use a story that was shared with me this week from a father who chose to name his newborn son Welles. He and his wife chose to name their baby after a young man named Welles Crowther, from Nyack, New York. Welles graduated from college and went to work at the World Trade Center in NYC. He never really liked the job, feeling that he was called to do something to help people in their daily lives, something involving hands-on generosity and less paperwork.

On September 11, 2001, minutes after United Airlines Flight 175 struck the South Tower, the 24-year-old Crowther called his mother from his office, calmly leaving a brief message saying, "Mom, this is Welles. I want you to know that I'm OK." Then Crowther made his way down to the 78th floor sky lobby, where he encountered a group of people, huddled and waiting for help. Carrying a woman on his back, Crowther then directed everyone in a strong, authoritative voice, to the stairway. The survivors followed him 15 floors down, where he dropped off the woman he was carrying before heading back upstairs to assist others. When he returned to the 78th floor, he found another group of survivors, which included Judy Wein, who worked on the 103rd floor and was in pain from a broken arm, cracked ribs and a punctured lung. According to Wein, Crowther assisted in putting out fires and he administered first aid to many suffering victims. He then announced to that group, "Everyone who can stand, stand now. If you can help others, do so." He directed this group downstairs and out of the building. "If he hadn't come back, I wouldn't have made it," said Wein. As occupants of the Tower headed for the street, Crowther turned around and went back inside multiple times, according to witnesses. He was last seen doing so with members of the NYC FD before the South Tower collapsed at 9:59 a.m.

Actions like those of Welles Crowther are nothing short of heroic. They are examples the holy purposes our parents know we are meant for.

The third lesson from tonight is the idea of Pattern. This is the idea that intrigues me the most about the story of The Presentation. There was a sense in all who were there in the temple that day that they were experiencing something quite unusual, something hopeful and optimistic. The aged Simeon took the baby in his arms and said, “Lord now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen the Savior.” History tells us that it had been revealed to him that his earthly life would not end until he had seen the Messiah, the Holy One, the Savior of the world, with his own eyes. And that revelation had come true.

And so the pattern of Jesus’ life was set: angels predicted his birth, shepherds were moved by his spirit, wise astronomers visited his family, and now, 40 days after his birth, he was proclaimed Savior of the world. No wonder Mary pondered things in her heart. The bar of responsibility had been set so high.

I have been living and teaching in boarding schools since 1979, so patterns and schedules and calendars have been important to me. I love the pattern of the boarding life, how the year is divided into terms and athletic seasons. How there are long weekends, and holiday breaks. Every day follows a neat pattern of classes, sit-down meals, afternoon activities, chapel services, study hours, and sleep.

Tonight’s chapel service reminds us that some of the patterns we follow have been around for decades, like Wednesday night chapels, or for centuries like Candlemas—The Presentation of Our Lord.

But the most important pattern of St. Andrew’s is the one that leads to clear purpose and high principle. This pattern reminds us of the purity we were born with and the responsibilities we’ve promised to uphold: honesty, integrity, respect, service. It requires hard work, but we must do everything in our power to preserve this pattern of life so that those who meet us know who we are and what we believe in: truth, justice, generosity, sacrifice, and love for our neighbor.