The Holy Family, 2017

Luke 2:22-40

Like many of you, I'm a grandparent. It's a good life; the grandchildren are usually on their best behavior when they drop around, because they know their grandmother and I are easy touches for cookies and soda and a little cash, maybe. We can sort of pick and choose when we see them, although there is the occasional baby sitting job or the last minute car ride that someone needs. And we don't have to worry – at least not as much as we worried about our own kids. The heavy worrying is the parents job, not ours. And all in all we enjoy our grandchildren, not all at once, mind you, but in small doses. During this Christmas season we've seen all the grandchildren, all nineteen of them, so we've had an overdose.

But there is one thing about being a grandparent that comes to mind every now and then. I look at my six year old granddaughter and realize that I won't be around when she graduates from college. I see my seven year old grandson and know I won't be there when he gets married. Seeing the little ones is a reminder of my own mortality.

Today we see Simeon and Anna, two elderly people, maybe grandparents in their own right, as they marvel over the Christ child. Simeon prays the prayer that all the clergy and religious in the church pray every night, “Now you can dismiss your servant, O Lord...” Simeon most likely dreamed about the day when the Messiah would come in triumph and rescue Israel. Maybe he thought of him as a powerful king, or a great prophet, or the High Priest who would reign forever – the leading thinkers were not clear on what role the Messiah would play, but all agreed it would be prominent and triumphant. But Simeon knows he will never witness the moment for which he and countless other Jews have waited his whole life. He must be content with a glimpse of the infant.

And I don't know how my grandchildren will end up. I can hope that they will have good lives, that they will stay in the Church, that if they are to get married they will find good spouses. But we all know that those hopes might be dashed. We live in a world where drugs and alcohol destroy lives; where a war may break out and a promising young man or woman will die or be severely crippled defending our country. And many of us have had first-hand experience of a child or sibling, someone dear to us, losing his or her faith.

Simeon had faith, faith that God had a purpose for the world. And if God has become flesh, if God is driving the universe toward a goal only He can see, then Simeon can take comfort in the fact that he himself is caught up in God's ongoing creative action. We remember Simeon because of the words recorded in scripture; but we should also remember that even though Simeon spent a lot of time in the temple, most of his day was taken up with the usual human activities of working for a living, eating, sleeping, and all the other things that even here in the 21^st century occupy most people most of the time. But all of that is part of Simeon's life as well. If Simeon's prophecy and prayer that made it into the gospels is part of God's plan, then so is the rest of Simeon's life.

And if I believe that God is at work in the world, drawing all things to himself, bringing order out of disorder, gradually building a kingdom that will last forever, a kingdom where what will be on earth will be as it is in heaven, then my short little time on this earth takes on infinite importance, because I am part of God's plan – in fact, a necessary part. God invites me to be a co-creator of his kingdom, as he does my grandchildren. And I don't know what that kingdom will look like when God's work is finished. Sometimes we think our role is very small and unessential; after all, God will get what he wants, right? But I think that's the point of the wounds in the body of the Risen Christ – our imprint will be on God's kingdom, good or bad.

The other thing I know about the kingdom is that my role in building it doesn't involve some heroic act; it doesn't involve me founding a religious order or writing a deathless spiritual classic or converting a nation of pagans. All the great things we can point to in our church's history are really works of God through willing individuals. Mother Theresa was willing, but I suspect you could have found several hundred dedicated holy religious sisters who would also have been willing. The only thing I can bring to God's table that is really mine is love. Saint Therese of Liseaux is a doctor of the Church because of her great insight that it was not doing great things that brought about God's kingdom, but doing the little things with great love.

So what I can hope for my grandchildren is that they will help build up God's kingdom by learning to do little things with great love, and that they will also understand that they are not insignificant, that because they are sons and daughters of God whatever they do is of God, whether it has to do with doing the dishes or sweeping the floor or running a business or becoming an entertainer. And in embarking upon life with great love they bring the kingdom closer.

And as we enter a new year that should be our resolution; this year we will strive to see that there is glory in everything we do; that God is close to us when we act out of love; and that we can act out of love in every action we perform. And as we practice allowing love to be our motivator, instead of greed or anger or envy or fear, we gradually become love, and then we are on the right side of history – because in the end, Love wins.