Right at the Last

It’s Christmas again. We’re right at the last of the year.

It makes you think, doesn’t it? When you’re young, it makes you think of toys and candy and holidays. You’re all about looking forward in your youth. Later, you’re more about looking on: about watching your own children experience the same pleasures, more than feeling them yourself. And as life moves on, and more and more of your lifespan slips into the rear-view mirror, you can’t help but gradually shift to a looking back sort of mood: the end of each year becomes an occasion for mental stock-taking and thinking about what it’s all added up to.

When It Hasn’t Gone Right

And at that point, it’s not unusual to feel a kind of vague wistfulness, a nostalgia for days passed by, for opportunities missed (perhaps), for goals not really achieved, or only partly realized. Life’s like that: it grinds on us all. We begin with such high hopes for ourselves … maybe with great aspirations for our education, our careers, our marriages, our family lives, our achievements in the world, and our service to God; but too often, in this sin-sickened world, we find we’ve fallen short of the ideals we set out for ourselves, or have flubbed important decisions, or even hurt people accidentally, when we really didn’t intend to, or made choices we now look back on with some regret. And we replay key moments, and wish we’d known then what we know now.

“The last of the year” — that thought can be a bit of a downer. It’s not anything usual that people in later life carry around with them a spirit of disillusionment. They have to hold themselves back, sometimes, from being too discouraging to young people. “Well, you think that now,” they say, “but when you’re MY age … ” That voice of world-weary experience is one that most young people really hate to hear. But it’s true: enthusiasms can be dangerous, we have learned; for they can set one up for greater disappointments. And in our earnest desire to protect the young, we can be pouring water on the bright little flame of youthful hopefulness.

At the Last

I wonder how old Simeon felt, right at the end of his life, on that day when he went to the temple. True, it was the Spirit of God who was stirring him to do it, on that occasion, and he had the literal word of God to tell him that one day his hopes of seeing God’s salvation would be realized; but I wonder how long he’d been waiting, day after day, being faithful and devout, but never seeing the Lord’s promise fulfilled. Did he ever feel world-weary and old? Did he ever wonder how many days it would be until the promise was fulfilled to him? Did he ever feel down and despondent? How was he feeling, at the last?

“Simeon,” you say. “Who’s that?” You can be forgiven for forgetting. He gets only a few verses in one gospel. He’s the man who came into the temple when the Lord was being brought in to be presented, just as all firstborns in Israel were supposed to be.

We’re not told what Simeon did in his earlier life. We’re not even told for sure how old he was (though his hanging out with Anna and his expectation of death suggests he was getting well along). In any case, what we do know is that he had a track record of being a righteous and devout man, one who had prayed, and had been told, through some personal revelation, that he would not see death until he had seen the Messiah.

So on that day when Mary and Joseph went to the temple to present their baby and to make their humble offering of birds to the Lord, Simeon was summoned by the Holy Spirit to go there, too. And borne along by the Spirit, he came into the temple and saw them there; and he took the baby into the crook of his arm, and blessed the Lord. And he said:

“Lord, as you have promised, you now release your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the face of all peoples — a light to unveiling of the nations, and a glory to your people, Israel.”

So now, Simeon could depart in peace. In peace. In a state of harmonious and confident relationship with God. He could slip gently into eternity, unafraid of what would come. God had promised him salvation, and God had fulfilled his promise. The means of salvation had been given; all that was left to unfold it all was time, and time more certain than yesterday’s news.

Two Strands

Two strands of thought flow from this: one for us, as individuals, and another more general. One strand is that the incident’s about getting older and not giving up hope. Simeon may have been right at the last of his life’s story, but he got it all right at the last. This is both the first and last, and the greatest thing that is ever recorded of Simeon. This one day, these few moments, are all we have of his whole life’s story; but it was so great that it was worthy to be inscribed in the eternal word of God.

Consider other such cases. Many of the Lord’s servants did not do their greatest work until their later years. Think of Abraham and Sarah, of Moses, of Zacharias and Elizabeth. For all of these, it was not until the self-confident power of youth was gone from them that the Lord chose to use them for the greatest work they would ever do. His power was made perfect in their weakness.

Let the world wallow in its discouragement as its life slips by. That is not the lot of the Christian. One of the great things for us is that there is no freshness date on Christian service. What do I mean? I mean that no matter how old you are, and no matter how long and complicated your life has been, the best for us is always yet to come. Our Lord is the Savior of the world. And he saves us from many things: from a lost eternity, of course, but also from guilt, shame, failure, regret, despair and hopelessness. Marvelously, he often does his greatest work with us when we think we’re past the point where that’s even possible.

Lift up your heads, saints. Older you may be; but why should not your last deeds be greater than at the first! God’s hand is not limited. You have as much potential as you ever did, and maybe more. If God will graciously use you, it may well issue in deeds deserving of heroic acclaim in eternity. Messiah has come; God has taken hold of his servants and will work his glory from their lives. You are not out of the plans of God. Your life’s opportunity is not gone, no matter how late in the day it is. Maybe, by the grace of God, you, too can still get it right at the end.

A Second Strand

But I said there were two strands: what is the second? There is a public significance to the presentation in the temple. Simeon’s humble action of worship performs for us an amazing reversal. Mary and Joseph came into that temple to present to God the Father his own Son. It is as if God said, “I already know him; but do you know who he is?” He is the Messiah, the hope of Israel and the desire of nations.

How could a baby be all this? By faith, of course. Messiah was here: it was the assurance of what Mary had also understood at the Annunciation: that when God sees and takes hold of a situation, that situation is as good as solved. It’s only a matter of time. And nothing is too great for God.

And, says Simeon, here he is. See the baby: there’s the Savior. There’s the Messiah of Israel and the desire of nations. There’s the solution for everything in this sad and faltering world. There’s the meaning of history, the righteous Judge and the Security of the saints. He’s come. And because of him, it will all make sense … in God’s time.

Simeon, you see, is not just like us: he’s also like older, faithful Israel, waiting and waiting for its Messiah. It is true that long years ago, the glory had departed from Israel, but in the person of this baby, the glory of God had returned there, now veiled in flesh but no less real. God was not done with his people: the righteous remnant would be rescued, and that in the sight of all the nations, to the eternal glory of God the Father.

A Turn to the Right

O Israel, sitting alone among the nations, and Jerusalem, that ancient city — you are not forsaken. Behold, your Light has come. God will return to his own nation, rescue his remnant and establish his name on his holy mountain. Be sure of it: for God almighty has seen you, and has visited you, too, with his salvation. No matter how dark today may be, the story is not over, and the end is assured. Yeshua Hamashiach has come, and will come again.

Lift up your heads, saints of Israel. The Almighty loves you, and has chosen you to be his people. Though dark days have come in those times when you abandoned him, yet he will establish and restore you. For he loves you, and has sent his salvation to you as well.

And O saints of every nation … take courage also. For the light to the Gentiles has been kindled. The way of salvation open every day. The Savior of us all is here. Hallelujah.

And you will see. It will all come right … right at the last.