A Sword Shall Pierce Your Own Heart

This morning as we consider the joys of Christmas, and this celebration, I want us to jump ahead in the narrative a little bit.

The story of Simeon and his interaction with Mary, Joseph, and the baby, is such a curious but wonderful story. It just teems with the miraculous nature and fulfilling aspect of Christmas.

Please turn to Luke 2, and we will read verses 22-35.

Luke 2:22–35 ESV

And when the time came for their purification according to the Law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord (as it is written in the Law of the Lord, “Every male who first opens the womb shall be called holy to the Lord”) and to offer a sacrifice according to what is said in the Law of the Lord, “a pair of turtledoves, or two young pigeons.” Now there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon, and this man was righteous and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. And it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ. And he came in the Spirit into the temple, and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him according to the custom of the Law, he took him up in his arms and blessed God and said, “Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.” And his father and his mother marveled at what was said about him. And Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, “Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), so that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed.”

We see all of our advent themes in that story, don’t we?

We see several of our Advent themes in that passage, don’t we?

We see hope in Simeon waiting for the consolation, the comfort and help of Israel. That hope and expectation was that of faith, because God had told Simeon, he had made him a promise, and Simeon believed.

We see joy in the voice and actions of Simeon, as he took Jesus up into His arms and blessed God! A joyful reaction, a wonderful celebration! I’ve seen Him! The fulfillment of all joy, and the fulfillment of prophecy. God keeping his promises, God just being God - that is what sparks true joy.

Peace - doesn’t Simeon have such peace? I’m ready to die now! I’ve seen enough! He may be just a baby now, but that’s enough for this old man to know that its true, and he is here.

I want us to consider, though, Simeon’s words at the end of His conversation to Mary and Joseph. And I want to read for you a sort of dramatized retelling of this story. I think you will enjoy it.

It was mid-morning when Joseph and Mary and their infant son entered Jerusalem’s Fountain Gate at the city’s southern tip. They passed the pool of Siloam where the disabled and diseased hoped for a healing stir of the water. They walked northwest up the street that led to the Temple Mount. It bustled with the rattle and hum of morning chores and commerce.

It had been forty days since Mary had birthed her boy. Under the Jewish law, this had made her unclean and required a purification sacrifice on the fortieth day. She and Joseph had made the nearly ten-mile trek from Bethlehem the previous day, camping with a few others a half-mile or so outside the holy city.

Outside the temple complex Joseph bartered with merchants for two turtledoves. The inflated prices angered him. Profiting from purification! He also felt shame that he couldn’t afford a lamb. Doves were a poor man’s sacrifice. He was barely eking out a living in Bethlehem, taking whatever odd job he could find.

Mary watched Joseph return with the cloth bag, its erratic movements divulging an inner turmoil. Sorrow flashed through her. She always recoiled at the sacrifices: the struggle, the fear, the violence, the blood — innocent life killed because of another’s guilt. These two frightened creatures would soon die to make her clean. She held Jesus tighter.

They entered the complex and made their way across the noisy Court of the Gentiles toward the Eastern Gate of the inner wall. Hundreds were praying, men with covered and women with uncovered heads.

Suddenly, in front of them, an old man appeared. “Let me see the child!” He sounded almost distressed. Joseph stepped up and shielded his wife. The man looked up at Joseph first confused and then smiled. Taking Joseph’s prohibiting hand in both of his, he patted it and said, “I’m sorry, my son. You must forgive old Simeon. Please don’t be afraid. Your child is in no danger from me. I’ve just been waiting for him so long.”

Mary knew immediately that he knew. The old man looked to her and gently asked, “May I see your son?” Mary smiled and nodded. Joseph stepped back. The man moved near and looked in awe at the child. Barely audible he muttered, “The salvation of Israel. The glory of Israel.”

Without taking his eyes off Jesus, he asked, “May I hold him?” Mary felt no fear as she placed Jesus into Simeon’s arms. He gently rocked him and mouthed silent praise with tears streaming. Mary glanced at Joseph who was wordless too.

Then the old man broke into a half sobbing prayer, “Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel (Luke 2:29–32).

Mary again felt the shivering wonder that her baby, this one she nursed and changed and bathed and cradled, was “Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:11).

Simeon, still gazing adoringly at the child, said, “Years ago the Lord promised me that death would not come until I had seen his Christ. Today, I opened my eyes while praying and there you were — an infant! I had never thought you would be an infant!” Looking to Joseph with laughing eyes, he said, “One never thinks of the Christ as an infant!”

With a kiss of blessing Simeon softly placed Jesus back in his mother’s arms. He dried his eyes with a sleeve and turned to Joseph, laying a hand on his shoulder, and said, “Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed, so that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed” (Luke 2:34–35).

Then turning back to Mary, he gently cupped her head with his hands and said tearfully, “And a sword will pierce through your own soul also” (Luke 2:35). He kissed her forehead and with one last look at the child, he moved away slowly through the crowd.

A sword will pierce your heart. Did Simeon know the fulness of that statement?

Did he know that this child was born, not just as a sign that would be opposed, but as a sign that would be sacrificed? Did he know the fulness of the weight of that statement, that a mother would watch her innocent and holy child be executed in his early 30’s? Did he know that the sword that pierced Mary’s heart would be the nails that pierced the little baby he was holding? The spear that would be thrust into his side, the thorns deeply pressed into his brow?

The bringing of great joy, the fullest joy that can be imagined, comes with a tinge of sorrow.

I think, at times, since we have the full story in front of us, with the resurrection and ascension and promised return on our minds, that we miss the heaviness of this kind of statement.

We are going to take the Lord’s supper now, and of course, this is an ordinance that is meant to fulfill and bear out the fulness of passover.

Passover, where the killing of many lambs and the blood shed on the doorposts and lintels in Egypt meant the sparing of many lives. Doubtless, all of Israel rejoiced at the salvation they saw that night, as their Egyptian neighbors experienced such pain and agony.

But the lambs, though no doubt precious to the people in one sense, were just lambs. They were just animals. They had no souls, no language, no image of God in them.

But Mary’s child, he was truly her son. He was truly her boy. He was truly a man. A body, soul, spirit. Image of God, Son of God.

This Lamb, the spotless lamb, would be sacrificed - and it would not just be the loss of another sheep, but it would be a real death. A real human loss. Yes, we are meant to feel the weight of that - we are meant to look back and see that even though it was part of the plan, it was still a tragedy for those who loved Jesus.

We are meant to see that Mary, though she herself expressed much joy that she would birth the Savior, would experience the most pain of anyone besides Jesus Himself.

Yet, that pain was for the joy.

That sorrow was for the gladness.

That wound was for the healing.

That sword was for the deliverence.

So this morning, as we consider the joy of Christmas, we remember the pain also. And we rejoice with a tear in our eye, knowing that it was great loss that brings us great gain.

DISTRIBUTE ELEMENTS

A body, that same body that was delivered by Mary. That same body that she nursed and clothed and coddled and changed. That same body that she carried around until he could walk.

That same body that Simeon held up in his arms, crying out in joy and gladness at the keeping of God’s promise.

That same body that would experience the pangs of hunder in the wilderness, yet not fall to satan’s temptations.

That same body that would heal the masses, that would teach those with ears to hear, that would feed the multiltudes, that would calm the storms and cast out demons.

That same body that was loved of His heavenly Father, yet, in a work of submission, would be crushed by that same father for the sake of other brothers, brothers, most of whom hadn’t even been born yet. Sisters, some of whom are sitting here this morning.

This body, broken for us. Take Eat, in remembrance of Christ.

Blood, blood that began to flow through tiny veins just a couple weeks after the miraculous conception.

Blood, a little of which was spilt on the 8th day when the baby was circumcised and given his name, Jesus - the Savior.

Blood, some of which, no doubt, was spilled in scrapes and cuts as a little boy played.

Blood which never flowed into hands that sinned, never flowed into eyes which lusted, never flowed through a brain with untoward thoughts, never flowed through feet which were swift to mischief. perfect blood.

Sinless blood. Spotless lamb.

Jesus’ blood, poured out for you. Take and drink, in remembrance of Christ.