The Presentation of the Lord is one of the Church’s most richly complex feast days. Celebrated on February 2, it traditionally marks the end of the Christmas season, with many enthusiastic Catholics keeping their lights up until the natural end of the Nativity cycle.
What makes this feast special? How does it prepare us for Ordinary Time? What can we do to celebrate it in our hearts and in our homes?
The Presentation of the Lord
Like all the stories from Jesus’ early years, the story of the Presentation in the temple is both charming and perplexing.
For Mary and Joseph, this moment is one of tradition and sacrifice. According to the law of Moses, every firstborn son was to be offered to the Lord (see Exodus 13:2, 12). This Son of God, entrusted to their care, is no different, and they bring the only offering for sacrifice they can afford: a pair of turtledoves, the offering of the poor.
Simeon, a righteous man, takes the child in his arms and begins reciting mysterious poetry: “Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation, which 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). This verse is so impactful that it is repeated every night in the Church’s Liturgy of the Hours during Compline.
The prophetess Anna, who dedicated her life to prayer, also testifies to the importance of the child Jesus and this moment in the Church.
It must have been a strange and moving scene for the young mother of the child and her husband, especially when Simeon proclaimed:
“This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too” (Luke 2:34-35).
What must have been Joseph’s thoughts, offering his humble gift alongside the one child Who did not need not to be purified—the greatest gift mankind has ever received? What does it mean that Simeon told this message of woe to Mary?
And what must have been Mary’s thoughts? Forty days earlier, she had placed her Son in a manger, a feeding trough for animals, prefiguring his Transubstantiation into food for us all. Now, she places her Son and sacrifice on an altar, not to purify the Son of God, but to purify the world.
Candlemas
The story is one of hope, sacrifice, and the promise of future salvific suffering. But what does this have to do with candles?
February 2 is also designated in the liturgical calendar as Candlemas. On this day, the Roman Catholic Church solemnly blesses the candles to be used in the coming year and distributes them to the clergy and the laity. This blessing is usually followed by a procession, as the congregation sings the Canticle of Simeon, quoted above. The procession with candles symbolizes Christ coming as the Light of the World and provides us with fuel for our liturgy for the rest of the year.
The feast of Candlemas helps the Church to transition from a time of feasting at Christmas, to the steady unwavering tread of Ordinary Time. The self-sacrifice inherent in the feast was further confirmed by Pope Saint John Paul II, who combined it with the World Day of Consecrated Life.
Sadly, generations of Catholics are unfamiliar with the celebration of the Presentation and its link to Candlemas. After Vatican II, when so much of the liturgical calendar changed, ceremonies like Candlemas were set aside and parts of the Church's liturgical life, rich in history and tradition, forgotten. Thankfully, in recent years, many Catholic communities have begun to resurrect these beautiful and meaningful Catholic customs.
Make My Heart to Glow and Melt
Christmas lights are a wonderful symbol for Christmas, of Christ as the Light in the darkness, invoking a sense of wonder and hope at the sight of their twinkle. Yet, Christmas lights are rather cheap. They are easily plugged in and unplugged. They are not bothered by the cold winds or the piling snow. They burn through electricity, and while beautiful, are artificial. They are fine for a season, but only a season.
Candles are different.
Candles flicker in hard wind and go out if touched by snow. But when the power goes out, when there is no electricity to be had, we light candles. We light them to celebrate birthdays and enrich our liturgies. When I am scared in the dark, I light a blessed candle before the statue of our Lady.
Candles are self-sacrificial objects; to give light they must burn, and as they burn they melt. They are self-immolating, giving of themselves to give to others. It is fitting, therefore, that as we take our Christmas lights down, the Church gives us candles. They serve not only as a symbol for the Light of the World, but as a reminder of how we should be living. On this feast, it’s as if Mother Church provides us with our marching orders for the year ahead, as if to say, This is how you are to live, not by taking energy from others, but by giving of yourself to spread Christ’s light in the world.
This is why the Church also sets before us, on this feast, the witness of consecrated men and women who spend their whole lives in self-gift of others. Like Simeon and Anna, they spend much of their days in prayer, working for the Church, and waiting in hopeful expectation to say, “Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word.”
My dear sisters in Christ, on this feast day, light a candle and reflect on the ways God is asking you to offer yourself to Him. Just as Mary and Joseph presented their Son in the temple, and just as those in religious life offer their lives to God, we too can offer ourselves to the Lord in some little way every day. It’s time to put away the Christmas lights and light our candles.
