Forty days after Jesus’s birth (on the Church’s calendar, Feb. 2), Mary and Joseph went to the Temple in Jerusalem to “present” their firstborn Son (Luke 2:22-38).

Every Jewish male is incorporated into that faith through circumcision, which occurs on the eighth day after birth. The Gospel of the circumcision is read on the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God, Jan. 1.

So, this poor couple from Nazareth has been in Jerusalem for over a month. Having come initially for census registration, they stayed to comply with the Old Testament Law of redeeming the firstborn (even though Jesus, as the fulfillment of the Law, was truly free of compliance but, as in the case of his submission to John’s Baptism, he observes the Law). Had they found some distant Davidic relatives? Who knows?

Exodus 13:13-16 required that the firstborn of man and beast among the Israelites be redeemed by offering a sacrifice in the Temple. Why? Because “the first offspring of every womb among the Israelites” belongs to God (13:2). 

Recall that the tenth and final plague that struck the Egyptians was the death of their firstborn. Only after the death of Egypt’s firstborn, of man and beast alike, did Pharaoh finally let the Hebrews leave Egypt. This underscored God’s claim on the firstborn (though he has claim on all of us) and reminded Israel of what God did for their freedom. (He did even more by sending his Son!)

The Old Testament prescribed the offering of a sacrifice to redeem the firstborn. That sacrifice was typically a lamb (hence why Jesus, the “Lamb of God,” really was not subject to this requirement). However, the Old Testament (Leviticus 12:8) also allowed for the substitution of “two turtle doves or pigeons” for the lamb if the woman was poor. Remember that Jesus elsewhere would comment that two sparrows are sold for a penny, yet none fall from the sky without God knowing it (Matthew 10:29-31). Scripture makes it abundantly clear that Mary and Joseph were not people of means.

So, they come to the Temple. At some point, Simeon will encounter them. Was it before they made the sacrifice or after? In any event, Simeon approaches them. Like Elizabeth and prenatal John the Baptist, “the Holy Spirit was upon him.” That Spirit had consoled him with the assurance he would not die before “he had seen the Messiah of the Lord.”

Perhaps that morning he made his way to the Temple, not knowing this would be that great day. He encounters the Holy Family and approaches them, wanting to hold their baby. Now, like with Elizabeth earlier, Mary hears amazing things pour forth from him.

He starts out with speaking to God. In the “Canticle of Simeon,” he thanks God, praying “Now, Master, you may let your servant go in peace.” Simeon knows God has kept his word, that he is holding his word. What he has waited for has happened: “My eyes have seen your salvation.” But that salvation is not parochial: here is “a light for revelation to the Gentiles and the glory of your people, Israel.”

And then he speaks to Mary, with words she no doubt “pondered in her heart” for a lifetime and which no doubt came back to her in their full import in that city on the hill of Calvary some 33 years in the future. “This child will be the rise and fall of many in Israel, a sign of contradiction, and your yourself a sword will pierce so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed.”

Simeon’s words are definitely not, “Oh, what a cute baby! Goo-goo, ga-ga.”

Like Elizabeth’s greeting, also inspired by the Holy Spirit, God speaks through human lips eternal truths. Jesus was in his time and remains today a “sign of contradiction.” He is a “stumbling block” (Romans 9:33; 1 Peter 2:8). To Jews, he is a “stumbling block” who does not fit their preferred interpretation of their faith, but to Gentiles, he is “foolishness” (1 Corinthians 1:23). His cross is “folly,” absurdity (1 Corinthians 1:18). 

He doesn’t come across any more appealingly to some modern people, either.

Is he or his Church a “stumbling block” for me? Is he or his Church “foolishness” for me?

After Simeon’s prophecy there comes Anna. Like Simeon, she is an older person who “never left the Temple but worshiped day and night with fasting and prayer.” And, like Simeon, she approaches the Child and speaks of him as the one expected to bring “redemption to Israel.” 

This Mystery reminds us of many things. Of God’s dominion of life and death and his claim over us. Of God’s faithfulness to his word, exemplified in the lives of Simeon and Anna. Of God’s readiness to use the weak and unimportant of the world — two old people that seemingly hang around the Temple — to proclaim deep and powerful, even painful truths. Of the painful future that awaits this child.

Simeon foresaw this child would be a cause of division, division that would affect his own family. At the same time, he recognized such division was necessary: God’s will requires taking sides, and not everybody takes God’s. That means division. That means polarization. That means separating the sheep from the goats, because goats aren’t just sheep in an alternate identity. They can sometimes even be wolves.

This mystery is depicted by Giovanni di Paolo, a very early “Italian” Renaissance painter from Siena. “The Presentation in the Temple,” dating from 1435, is held but not displayed by the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.

The scene captures the moment of offertory of the redemptive sacrifice on the altar (very much a Catholic-style altar, complete with baldacchino). The Jewish priest, behind the altar, stares at Simeon, who is holding the Child, gazing intently on him for whom he has waited all these days and years. Mary, who has handed over the child, now waits with open hands to receive him back (as she will receive him in the future after his and her hearts are pierced by swords). Elderly Anna, somewhat hunched over, stands on the right. St. Joseph stands on the left, dove in hand. Other Temple officials mull about, the poor on the right, some more affluent ladies (perhaps the painting’s sponsors?) on the left. The interior setting of the painting is very typical of the Renaissance, not ancient Israel. 

Gentile da Fabriano painted a “Presentation” remarkably similar to di Paolo’s: see here.