Feast of the Encounter 2024

 Homily by Sister Rebecca

 

We read this morning a passage from St Luke’s Gospel: “And Behold a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon...he was just and devout expecting the consolation of Israel, the Holy Spirit was upon him: it was communicated to him that he wouldn’t see death before he would see the Lord’s Christ.”

 

Note that the Gospel begins with the word Behold.

 

The word “behold” is found over 1000 times in scripture: it points to an immensely important revelation: open your eyes, pay attention. It denotes Wonder, Awe, Surprise!

 

And indeed, today’s feast of the Encounter is about the revelation of God, the one true Light to the world.  The word “revelation” involves removing the veil from our eyes…to see what really IS beyond the surface of things, to encounter the Divine Presence in our midst right now.

 

I ran across a quote from Carl Jung that might speak to us about this seeing:

 

“What a tragic delusion...theologians fail to see that it is not a matter of proving the existence of light, but of blind people who do not know that their eyes could see. It is high time we realized that it is pointless to praise the light and preach it if nobody can see it. It is much more needful to teach people the art of seeing.” 

 

This feast presents us with an opportunity to zero in on this art of seeing as exemplified by Simeon and Anna. It invites us today to peer into the depths of seeing the true Light offered to us as we celebrate the revelation of the Light of Christ.

 

Simeon and Anna both see this light: they have over many decades of their lives nurtured the art of seeing. The scripture says this: that they have been preparing for this moment. We heard that the Holy Spirit was upon Simeon and that it had been revealed to Simeon that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ. He was able to see because of his devout vigilance, because the Holy Spirit had unveiled to him that he would see the Lord’s Christ before death. Anna too had been vigilant and watchful, like Simeon, preparing herself to see and receive the Messiah.

 

This ability to see—the art of seeing—doesn’t just come overnight. It must be nurtured and practiced for a long time. This practice of seeing, called nepsis, is about watchfulness, mindfulness. Without nepsis our spiritual lives wither, grow weak.

 

This practice is how we train ourselves to see what is before us without grasping, without holding on to what is good or pushing away the good we do not feel like accepting. This practice enables us to see things as they are now, and not as we want them to be—as happens when we are caught up in fear of what life presents us with.

 

Some of us here are familiar with Olivier Clement’s masterpiece The Roots of Christian Mysticism, in which he comments that people are leaving Christianity for Eastern religions because they can no longer find in the Church the very things that were at the heart of Christianity from the very beginning. These things are still in the heart of the Church. It is just that we have simply forgotten. We have forgotten the art of seeing, nepsis, being awake, conscious of union and communion with God. We must teach this again to all who want to learn the art of seeing.

 

In our present culture our sense of loneliness has become very pervasive. And this loneliness persists despite the abundance of social media, where many people have hundreds of “friends” on Facebook. Where does loneliness arise? Might it really be that people are estranged from their deep selves? That this yearning is actually our spiritual instinct that is knocking on the door of our heart?  God—the Sacred Presence—is striving to awaken us to see what really matters and fulfills us: our soul’s innermost space, where we see our deep connection with one another and all of life.

 

Thomas Merton described the faith journey in this wonderful prayer, part of which is given here:

My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
nor do I really know myself,
and the fact that I think I am following your will
does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you
does in fact please you.

A similar image comes from the writer E. L. Doctorow: driving a car on a dark highway, during which the car’s headlights show only part of the road, but by following the headlights, the driver will reach the destination.  

The practice of mindfulness is “turning on the headlights.” As with Simeon and Anna in their long spiritual journeys, this means stripping away the layers of skin from our spiritual eyes of the heart—skins of fear, of self-centered desires and actions, of being entangled in unconscious living as if we are on automatic pilot.

 

The narrow path of vigilance and mindfulness is offered and open to all of us. It is a prerequisite to deep repentance, since it brings us to self-knowledge. This is not a sad journey. On the contrary, it leads to a deep, gentle bliss of mind and heart. It calls to mind the inner meaning of the first few verses of Psalm 119: “Full of blessedness, bliss, is the one who seeks the way of wholeheartedness to God, who is watchful and vigilant in walking in the presence of God.”

 

Simeon and Anna show us today what can happen when watchfulness is practiced consistently and with patience. Let us pray and trust in God’s gift to truly see the revelation that Christ is present and will dawn in our hearts as powerfully as the Second Coming of his kingdom.

 

NB: I would like to express my gratitude to Fr. Antony Hughes, Fr. Ronald Rolheiser and a number of others I cannot name for their inspirational thoughts.