"Now. It's Go Time."

What are the top 5 things you want to do, accomplish or see before you die? Now, I want you to narrow the list down to three things. Then, narrow the list to one thing you would like to do, accomplish or see before you die.

I find it really difficult to do things like this (of course, I tell you this after I have made you do it). I think part of it is that there is so much most of us want to accomplish before we die. I think part of it, furthermore, is it’s really hard to know we’ve done enough, accomplished enough, or seen enough. We live in a culture in which more is always better. The books on the Barnes and Noble shelves don’t say “The Top 5 Things to See Before You Die.” They say “The Top 500.” At the same time, we are reminded that statistics indicate that there is a limit at which point “more” doesn’t make us happier. It’s just more.

We also live in a society in which we strive for instant gratification. I don’t know about you, but I do this even with my seedlings. Each spring, after planting and watering my seeds, I will check on them every day, even when I know they won’t emerge for 7-12 days. I want to see some of the fruits of my labor; it isn’t enough to trust that the seeds will come up; I want to see the emerging seedlings. It is natural to want to see the fruits of our labors, I suppose, but this desire to see the fruits of our labors makes it difficult to wait for those things that will come years – even decades – after the fact. Sometimes, we wait for things to come not knowing if they ever will.

Sometimes, the things that seemed so sure crumble under us, as we wonder what happened. Sometimes, things that we never looked to happen come and land in our laps. Sometimes, it’s really hard to recognize the Good News in the lives that we have because we hoped for something different, something better, perhaps something a little more flashy or with a little more joy.

I don’t know for how many years Simeon had been waiting. We know that Anna is quite advanced in age, and it seems likely that Simeon was also getting on in years. Simeon had been waiting for the consolation of Israel, and knew he would set eyes on the Messiah. And, as the older generation took in his arms the new generation, Simeon saw something in this 8-day old child. This was it. This was THE THING for which Simeon had waited. This was the last thing on Simeon’s bucket list. But I can’t imagine what it would have been like to know how meeting this child would have felt. “Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word.” Was it a peaceful acceptance that his death was imminent? Was it a bittersweet acknowledgement that it was time to get his affairs in order? Or was it the passing of a torch, from one generation to the next, in which Simeon acknowledged this child would accomplish that for which many had tried – there had been many who claimed to be Messiahs – and failed?

What did he see in this child? Simeon had probably seen thousands of young baby boys being dedicated in the Temple, thousands of parents whose eyes revealed the peculiar combination of emotions found only in the eyes of new parents: complete terror and utter pride. Here came this poor couple, only able to offer the minimum sacrificial requirements according to Deuteronomy? Did the story of Mary and Joseph travel from Bethlehem to Jerusalem ahead of them? We receive no indicaitons from Luke that Simeon was privvy to the events of the Nativity. Instead, we see him proclaiming the revelation of God’s salvation through this child: “a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.” It would be easy to assume that Simeon somehow knew what he was looking for; but it seems implausible that an 8-day old child would have some characteristic or attribute that would set him apart from the other 8-day old children that Simeon had held.

“Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word.” I imagine Simeon’s eyes, having grown dull with age, sparkled as he looked at this child, the child’s bright black eyes reflecting Simeon’s gaze, and Simeon feeling the tug – the internal pull of something bigger than himself, of the voice that he longed to hear, the feeling of every promise that had ever been made to him coming true – and his eyes filling as he recognized the fulfillment of something he long doubted, wondering if God would be true to God’s word, wondering if God still spoke to those on earth, wondering if God had given up on the world, like so many have. Gnarly hands holding not only a child, but the fulfillment of God’s promises. Simeon held in his arms the fullness of time – the eternal moment of Christ’s presence, of heaven and earth colliding, of God in human form – the moment in which the Holy Spirit finally said, “Now.”

But the truth is, most of us, when we hear the Spirit say “Now,” we ignore it. It’s a lot easier to dream small. It’s a lot easier to want to travel someplace exotic than it is to change the way we see the world. So we look for things outside of us, big things, things that we are sure will change us, experiences we are sure will have some sort of crowning effect. So we strive after one or two big things, deciding that our life is defined by these “big things” more than our every day decisions and choices. But what if listening to the Holy Spirit’s “Now” is a daily – rather than a once in a lifetime – experience.

If Simeon had quit looking at every child as if he might be the Messiah, he probably wouldn’t have been paying attention on that day when the young couple with two pigeons came with their 8-day old baby, Jesus. Every day, Simeon waited. Every day, Simeon looked. Every day, Simeon hoped. This wasn’t a once-for-all sort of thing for Simeon. This was how he lived. After holding and blessing all of those children, after looking into all those new parents’ scared-thrilled eyes, though doubts and fears that he would not recognize the child, through doubts and fears the child would never come and that it was just something he had made up in his head, and not the Holy Spirit, Simeon witnessed God’s salvation.

When the fullness of time had come, God sent his son, to a world that was waiting yet not ready, to a world full of hopeful doubters and disbelievers, to a world that craved yet feared the light. This child, the Eternal Now, comes even now, as the Spirit whispers “Now,” beckoning creation forward, beckoning you forward, beckoning you to watch and to listen and to hope for the God who comes before creation is ready, before humanity had completed its bucket list, because God didn’t want our lists of things to be and do before we die to define our lives. Each morning is God’s crowning achievement, each “Now” is the Eternal Moment, each time we catch our breath and realize that God is continually drawing near, continually revealing God’s salvation – a light who beckons the wayward and faithful alike. This child is the revelation of your salvation, the guarantor of your freedom, the promise of your inheritance. I imagine Simeon’s laughter as he nearly skipped home out of joy that God had not forgotten Creation – God had not forgotten him – at the fullness of time, Christ comes and dwells among us, making his presence known, freeing us as we hear the Spirit whisper, “Now. It’s go time.”