The first reading for the Mass
on this Feast of the Presentation is from the prophet Malachi. “There will come to the temple the Lord
whom you seek,” he prophesizes, “but
who will endure the day of his coming.” Why does he say this? Because the
Lord comes to bring purification. And purification is often difficult to
endure, as you probably know well. Listen to the prophet:
. . . he is like refiner’s fire, or like the
fuller’s lye. He will sit refining and purifying silver, and he will purify the
sons of Levi, refining them like gold or like silver that they may offer due
sacrifice to the Lord.”
And so the purification is
coming like fire and lye. But always remember this: we are being purified
because in the eyes of God, we are silver and gold. Silver and gold:
we are not wretches, or worthless junk thrown on top of a heap of refuse. To
God, we are worth saving—so much so that he will live a human life with us and
embrace more suffering than we can ever know—for us. And it is there
that we find our worth.
Nonetheless, purification is
painful. Consider this, if you will: When I need to ask for forgiveness that
means that I know I have sinned. And when I know I have sinned, that means that
I also know what is the right way, the way I have chosen not to go. When I know
the right way and I know that I have not lived up to it, I am humbled and contrite.
This is purification. About this, Rabbi Rami Shapiro writes “being humbled, the
lesser self is engulfed in the greater Self the way the light of a single candle
is engulfed by the light of the sun.” (Perennial
Wisdom, © 2013, p. 142)
And so, the Feast of the
Presentation is not a gloomy event. It is filled with life and light and joy,
and the prophetess Anna “gave thanks to
God and spoke about the child to all who were awaiting the redemption of
Jerusalem.”
This Feast holds special meaning
for me, because it was during the celebration of the Mass at Saint Anselm Abbey
in 1983 that I at last made a definite decision that I was going to hopefully
become a monk of Saint Anselm Abbey. It is a decision that I have never
regretted, even during times of fire and lye and purification. Thanks be to
God! And may He bless you richly on this day.
