Reading: Luke 2:22–40 (link)
Oops!
As many of you know, I love learning new things and gaining insight from different perspectives. One way I do that is through reading. Last year, I read 47 books—not too shabby for a busy priest!
Right now, I’m reading a book called Waking Up by Sam Harris, an avowed atheist. His central question is whether spirituality is reserved only for religious people. He argues that it isn’t.
He makes a lot of good points, especially about the ways religious institutions have hurt people throughout history. It’s shameful, and if you’ve ever been mistreated by our Church or its clergy, I sincerely apologize. We can and must do better.
That being said, I don’t agree with him on everything. However, I think he does articulate something profound—the despair that so many people feel, a despair that often sends them searching for deeper meaning in their lives. He writes:
“…even in the best of circumstances, happiness is elusive. We seek pleasant sights, sounds, tastes, sensations, and moods. We satisfy our intellectual curiosity. We surround ourselves with friends and loved ones. We become connoisseurs of art, music, or food. But our pleasures are, by their very nature, fleeting. If we enjoy some great professional success, our feelings of accomplishment remain vivid and intoxicating for an hour, or perhaps a day, but then they subside. And the search goes on. The effort required to keep boredom and other unpleasantness at bay must continue, moment to moment. Ceaseless change is an unreliable basis for lasting fulfillment.”
I think we can all relate to how fleeting happiness can be. But Harris doesn’t stop there:
“Is there a form of happiness beyond the mere repetition of pleasure and avoidance of pain? Is there a happiness that does not depend upon having one’s favorite foods available, or friends and loved ones within arm’s reach, or good books to read, or something to look forward to on the weekend? Is it possible to be happy before anything happens, before one’s desires are gratified, in spite of life’s difficulties, in the very midst of physical pain, old age, disease, and death?”
Good question! But this question isn’t new. Even in Jesus’ time, people were asking the same thing.
Ugh!
Today, we celebrate the Presentation of Christ in the Temple. According to the Law of Moses, the firstborn was to be consecrated to God (Exodus 13:2), and parents were to bring a sacrifice to the Temple on the 40th day after birth. In many ways, it was a way of thanking God for the gift of a child—similar to why we give stewardship to the Church, as an offering of gratitude for the blessings we receive.
As Mary, Joseph, and the infant Jesus approach the Temple, a man named Simeon appears. St. Luke tells us he had been “looking for the consolation of Israel.”
Why? Because Israel knew suffering.
They had seen their first Temple destroyed and had been exiled to Babylon. Now, they lived under the oppressive rule of Rome, who used crucifixions as a brutal reminder of who was in control. The historian Josephus describes the Roman general Titus crucifying so many people after the Jewish Revolt that:
“…there was no space left for crosses, nor were there enough crosses for the condemned.”
Israel didn’t just need happiness—they needed their suffering to be lifted. They needed a Messiah to free them.
Maybe that’s what we need as well?
The good things Harris mentions in his book—pleasure, success, friendship—don’t truly satisfy us. They may make us happy for a while, but isn’t there more to life? How do we find true fulfillment? How do we find true liberation?
Aha!
When Simeon sees Jesus, he immediately recognizes Him as the Messiah and proclaims:
“Here is Israel’s salvation!”
Simeon is telling us that what we’re longing for, what we really need, can only be found in Jesus.
And how does Jesus bring this fulfillment? Simeon’s next words give us the answer:
“This child is destined to be the cause of the falling and rising of many in Israel and to be a sign that will be rejected. Indeed, as a result of him, the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul as well!”
In other words, what is in our hearts matters. Jesus reveals that what we think our hearts desire is often very different from what they truly desire.
Whee!
In the Orthodox tradition, there’s a great collection of spiritual wisdom called the Philokalia—which means “the love of beauty.” The fathers of the Philokalia tell us that much of our suffering comes from our thoughts.
Think about it—our minds are constantly racing:
- I forgot that.
- I need to do this.
- What will they think if I don’t go to their party?
- What did my coworker think of my project?
- Why did that pedestrian cross the road there?!
On and on our thoughts go.
The fathers teach that many of these thoughts come from demonic provocation. They keep us distracted, worried, fearful, and anxious. Sometimes, they even lead us into sin. These thoughts deceive us and pull us away from our natural state of peace.
These fantasies and mental images, as the fathers call them, cause us to suffer. They keep us from true happiness.
But there is a solution. There is a way to calm the mind.
It’s called the Jesus Prayer.
The Jesus Prayer
It’s simple:
- Sit in a comfortable position.
- Pay attention to your breathing—each breath in, each breath out.
- As you breathe in, silently say, “Lord Jesus Christ…”
- As you breathe out, say, “…have mercy on me.”
- Continue for a period of time.
The key to the Jesus Prayer is watchfulness, or attention. Focus on the words. Your mind will wander—that’s natural. When it does, simply bring your attention back to the prayer.
At times, painful memories or anxieties may surface. This is why Simeon said that Jesus would reveal the thoughts of many hearts. But in that revealing, Jesus also brings healing and consolation.
This takes time. Learning to be watchful—gaining control over our minds—doesn’t happen overnight. That’s okay. As we grow in attention, our minds return to their natural state. No longer deceived by false happiness, we begin to experience something far deeper.
Yeah!
The fathers of the Church teach:
“Only when the heart is empty of every form will Divinity enlighten the heart.”
In other words, when we let go of the distractions, anxieties, and false pursuits that cloud our minds, we make space for God’s presence to fill us. This is what Simeon experienced when he held Christ in his arms—true peace, true fulfillment, true light.
This same light is offered to us.
Even today, when we bring our children to be presented in the Church for the 40-day “churching,” we pray:
“For it is You who have brought this child forth in light so that it may be found worthy in due time of the spiritual light …”
That spiritual light isn’t just something reserved for holy people or saints—it’s meant for all of us. But we must seek it. We must turn our hearts toward Christ and allow Him to reveal what we truly need.
The Jesus Prayer is one way we can do this. It helps us quiet the noise, let go of distractions, and open our hearts to God. It allows us to receive Christ the way Simeon did—with watchfulness, attention, and love.
So, as we celebrate the Presentation of Christ, let’s ask ourselves:
- Where am I looking for happiness?
- Am I chasing after things that will fade, or am I seeking the lasting peace of Christ?
- How can I make space for God in my heart?
Like Simeon, may we learn to wait on the Lord with patience. And when we find Him—when we truly see Christ—may we also proclaim with joy:
“My eyes have seen Your salvation!”
Amen.