Presentation of the Lord

Occasionally we hear it bemoaned, that too many of us Catholics can’t adequately explain the teachings of our faith in a way that’s meaningful for ourselves or anyone else. Perhaps that criticism is fair. It makes me think of a story in which three men died and suddenly arrived at the gates of heaven, greeted by St. Peter who said, “Welcome. You’ve arrived at the gates of heaven, but in order to enter, you must answer a question to demonstrate your knowledge of your faith.”

He asked the first man, “Tell me what happened on the first Easter Sunday.” The man thought for a while and then answered, “That’s when people dress up in costumes and children go house to house, getting candy….”

Disappointed by that answer, he asked the second man, “Alright, tell me what happened on the first Easter Sunday.” The man scratched his head and suddenly responded with assurance, “That’s when people shoot-off fireworks and there are barbecues and family gatherings…..”

Losing hope in this group, he finally asked the third man, “Tell me what happened on the first Easter Sunday.” The man nervously searched his mind, then at last lit-up with a satisfied expression, “That’s when Jesus emerged from his tomb in the morning…..”

“Great” thought St. Peter, “….go on.”

“….and if he saw his own shadow, there would be six more weeks of winter!”

In addition to the cause that draws us here today—rooted in our Biblical tradition—today is of course Groundhog Day. The earliest documented reference to what we now call Groundhog Day goes back to 1841, it’s a tradition born out of German culture and it came to be loosely associated with Joseph and Mary’s presentation of the child Jesus, simply by virtue of where it falls on the calendar.

This feast has an interesting history. Earliest accounts of it come from a personal diary written by a woman named Egeria. Lost for centuries, the diary was discovered in 1887. Egeria describes her pilgrimage to the Holy Land, sometime between the years 381-384, and recounts how the faithful celebrated the birth of Christ, which at that time was celebrated on January 6th. She said another solemn celebration followed 40 days later, and the presider preached on the words we just heard in today’s Gospel: “When the days were completed for their purification according to the law of Moses, they took him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord”. This feast can be understood as the final segment to what we celebrated on Christmas day. Eventually, when the date for Christmas came to be established as December 25th, this celebration followed 40 days after—February 2nd.

Why 40 days? It’s because under the Jewish Law of Jesus’ time, Mary—or any other woman—would have to wait a period of 40 days after having a child, and then after making a ritual purification, she could re-enter the Temple (Lev 12:1-8). In presenting the child Jesus, Mary and Joseph did this in accord with Jewish Law. This was in keeping with what God had long before told Moses, that the firstborn—whether man or beast—was to be His. It was to be sacrificed, given back to God. And because human sacrifice was not allowed, an animal was offered in place of the child, a vicarious offering. Thus, in place of the firstborn son, Jesus, a pair of turtledoves or pigeons were sacrificed.

But why the sacrifice at all? How does God benefit from any sacrifice? He doesn’t benefit, but we do. The act reminds us that whatever is sacrificed was a gift from God in the first place—it’s already His. Further, God demands that the desirable one be sacrificed. Why? Not because He needs anything, but instead to keep us from being too dependent on the things we want or believe we need. He wanted to show the Israelites—and us—that’s Him we need, not the possessions He gives us.

As you’ve likely heard me quote: If there is something besides God that we believe is absolutely necessary to our happiness, then we’ve made an idol or god of it (Dr. Peter Kreeft, How to Be Holy, p. 138). We are to be people of one God and to have devotion to one thing, and sacrifice instills that perspective.

As we know, roughly thirty years after his Presentation, Jesus himself would come to be the sacrifice, a vicarious offering for us. It all begs the question: Are we giving ourselves without conditions without limitations? Can we say in truth, “Lord my life is entirely for you”? As we contemplate the meaning of this feast, may we join our offerings to that of Jesus, offering ourselves and our sacrificial acts. Even our smallest offerings find value when they are united to his.

McKenzi VanHoof