Authors Note:

I wrote this one day after reading a passage in the Gospel of Luke, specifically chapter 2 verses 22-40 in the NIV translation. Some of the dialogue and words are lifted exactly from the text but most are paraphrased and embellished. I wanted to imagen what it was like for a man waiting for the deliverance of Israel, to not only meet the one to bring hope, but to actually hold the child of promise in his arms.

Those who dared to hope.

A Christmas Make-Believe.

The old man, trudged slowly up the rocky road to his shack at the edge of town. It was not much but he was grateful for its cool shade on the hot summer days. His head hurt and his back ached.

Lying down would be good, he thought. Yes, a nap would do him good. For a while, he could forget about his pain. He was not complaining, he was on the hole a rather cheerful man, he was just stating a fact of life. He was old, and, he suspected… no, he would think of that. Not yet. He was not that old after all. His friend who lived at the temple was well into her eighties! Now that was old!

He lifted the little wooden latch and pushed the leather thong that acted as a lock, aside. Going inside and sitting down heavily on a stool, he carefully opened a wineskin hanging on the wall and took a draft. His thirst quenched, he opened a clay jar and pulled out the bread he had bought yesterday in the market. He was just about to eat a peace when a nock sounded at the door. He got up slowly, his back aching as he did so and shuffled the few steps to his door.

Standing outside was a worn looking man, with threadbare rags and hardly any sandals on his feet. At first he thought he was barefoot but then he realized, with a twinge of sadness, that the sandals had just been worn through. His eyes finally focused on the man’s face, it was his neighbor, Nashon. He lived in a lean-to a few paces down the road. Simeon had offered to let Nashon’s children sleep in his shack where it was at least warm during the cold desert nights but Nashon, a proud man, had refused. They had blankets and they always made a fire, so it was not too dangerous, just, cold.

“Simeon, they kept me at the vineyard long today, I hadn’t time to stop at the market before it closed. Would I be able to barrow some bread, so the kids can eat something tonight?” He looked pleadingly into the old man’s eyes.  Things must have been very bad indeed for Nashon to swallow his pride and come ask for some bread.

“I would get it myself but I did not want to be in town after dark… I will pay back as soon as I can.”

In truth, the man was right, dusk was beginning to settle across the rocky hills and the market was no place to be at night.

“Of course.” The old man said with a smile. “And you don’t need to pay me back, but won’t you come in and join me for a drink of wine? I don’t get to see you much these days, how are the children doing?”

“They are doing fine, the littlest is two now.” He said with evident pride. “But no, I should be getting back, my wife is ill.”

“Oh no, is there anything I can do?” Concern evident in the old man’s voice.

“No, no. She’s ok, just a little under the weather.” His neighbor gave a forced smile. “She’s fine.”

“Alight, well let me know if there is anything I can do.” He said, turning back into the little shack to fetch the bread. Simeon knew perfectly well she was not fine but he didn’t press the issue. No, he would take a pot of soup over tomorrow, instead. That’s what he would do.

The old man, carefully wrapped what was left of the bread in a peace of linen. And handed it back to his neighbor.

“Thank you!” Nashon exclaimed. “I will pay you back as soon as I can.”

“No.” Simeon said firmly. “You helped me fix my roof last spring, I am still reaping the benefits of that.”

“Alright, well…. thank you.” His neighbor turned and trotted back down the lane to his lean-to. That night Simeon fell asleep to the sound of children laughing.

~//~

It had been two days since he had taken the pot of soup over to his neighbor’s and they seemed to be doing better. Nashon’s wife was sitting up now and the smallest child had stopped crying out of hunger.  Simeon felt confident enough in their wellbeing to continue planning for his annual trip to the temple. He had woken up a little dizzy and with a slight head ache but a bit of water mixed with wine and a small cupful of cooked grain had revived him. He would make one small pot and call it quits for the day’s work. He had a large enough collection for his store now, that he could afford to take the afternoon off. But as he continued to mold and shape the clay he began to feel more and more ill.

First his headache came back and then he began to perspire. Suddenly, he felt a pain in his stomach so sharp he nearly fell of his stool. He had to lean against the wall of his shack to walk back inside. He would lay down for a bit and see what that would do.

He lay there for most of the day, only getting up to relieve himself and to take some food and wine. There had been blood in his urine. Not a good sign. He would probably have to cancel his trip to the temple tomorrow. He was saddened at this but knew the Lord would understand.

All throughout the day and evening he prayed. He prayed for his health, he prayed for his neighbors, but most off all he prayed for Israel. She was in a dire situation at the moment, under Roman rule, Juda under the reign of Archelaus son of Herod. The Pharisees and the Sadducees causing trouble with their “We are children of Abraham” busness and of course there was the exile. True, they had been brought back from Babylon, but they were still exiled… exiled from God.  They needed the messiah more than ever.

That night was hell. He couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned, praying all the while. His side ached and his head throbbed. He had a fever, he could feel it. In desperation he made a final plea to the LORD.

“My Lord, my Lord. There is too much for your servant to do before he dies. My neighbor needs you. Yet the messiah is not here and Jerusalem needs you!”

He was dying. Yes, he admitted it now. He was dying. But he could not accept it. Not yet. He loved life, but more than that he loved the people, and he knew it was silly but… he felt as if God Himself had been calling him to serve until the Messiah came, until the Lord would make all things right and restore Israel. To sweep the porch and keep watch, until the master of the house came home, so to speak.

So he had waited, but now… now he would never see Israel restored. He would die, knowing that his neighbor, his friends would be left in… exile.

Tears ran down his swollen, wrinkled cheeks. He was getting weepy in his old age, he thought. But was that such a bad thing? To be sympathetic, to feel the hurt of others? Or was he just an old man with a broken heart who meddled too much in the affairs of others.

But that night, as he prayed that prayer and talked to God… God talked back.

Simeon did not notice at first. It had just seemed like a murmur but suddenly he came to his senses. He realized that he was not just hearing what he had used to imagen what God would say, or at least, that’s what it had always seemed like at the times he prayed but, no, there it was again. A clear voice, a gentle voice, talking to him as if he was an old friend. And it seemed the most natural thing in the world. Why shouldn’t two old friends have a simple chat in the night? He thought.

If you had asked him later what their conversation had been about, he couldn’t have told you. Just as if you had asked two old women what they talked about on long summer days, watching the world go by while they weaved.

But what he did know was this. The Lord had heard his prayer and had answered. Simeon was to see the coming of the Messiah. He was to gaze upon the Lords anointed with his own eyes before he was released of his service and could be gathered to his fathers.

The next day he awoke with new strength, his sickness was gone for the moment, or at least kept at bay. That would be the Lords provision, he guessed. Today was the day he took his annual trip to the temple to pray. He had considered canceling it because of his health and even now he doubted whether he could make the small journey, but if the Lord had said he would not pass until he had seen the messiah, than he would not pass until he had seen him. Besides, he thought, he might see his old friend Anna. Perhaps she could tell him where he would find the messiah, she was a prophet after all.

So with that thought in mind, and after checking on his neighbors, he began the walk up to the temple steps. When he finally reached them it was almost midday. He had not woken early and he had been hindered by the stiffness of his legs. This was far enough he thought, looking up at the many steps before him. He was just about to kneel on the closest step to pray when he felt the strangest urge to look up. There he saw a young couple walk the final steps and enter the temple courts.

He felt the strangest urge to fallow them and he felt it was imperative he entered the temple courts as well. So, steeling himself for the pain and possibility of breaking his back, he began the assent.

“The things you get me into Lord,” He muttered under his breath, “are simply downright dangerous sometimes.”

But finally, after nearly nocking a poor woman off her feet when he stumbled, he made it to the top. Pausing a moment to catch his breath, he glanced up, only to be struck, once again, by the beauty of the temple courts. Drawn by the awesome sight, he instinctively shuffled his way towards the Gate Beautiful.

Walking amongst the crowds, a wonderful patchwork of humanity, he caught sight once more of that couple he had seen at the steps.  Making his way over to them he saw that the woman was carrying a child, a mere baby, in her arms.

“You have a beautiful child, daughter of Jerusalem, may I hold him?” He said to her.

The man, smiling, looked at his wife who in turn looked at him smiling back. She carefully lifted the child and placed him in Simeon’s arms. The child squirmed slightly, then settled. He could feel the child’s heart beat against his own chest. So small, so fragile, yet… His eyes, welling with tears and his face showing his joy, he spoke.

“Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you may now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation witch you have prepared in the sight of all nations: a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of your people Israel.”

The father and mother looked on in wonder and amazement at the words he had spoken and at the holy joy evident on his face. He pronounced a blessing over both of them and after handing the child back, spoke once more, this time to the young mother.

“This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a Sword will pierce your soul too.”

There was a light tapping sound and all three, including the child, turned to see what was making it. An old woman, no, an ancient woman was making her way towards them, leaning on her cane for stability. The man, ran over to help her, and together they shuffled the rest of the way over to where the woman was cradling the child.  

“Thank the Lord of all the earth this child is here!” She said in a shaking but clear voice. “The time has come for man to made clean, and to be washed of his sins!” Then turning to the people around them she raised her voice and spoke louder, nearly shouting. “This is God’s redemption of Israel, and not just Israel, but all of man! This is the one spoken of by the prophets!”

Long after the couple had left, she continued to tell those who were looking forward to the redemption of Israel, about the child and about God’s messiah. But Simeon, after greeting his old friends had returned to his shack. His fears had been washed away and even though his health once again failed him, he died in peace knowing that he had seen the Lord’s messiah, the consolation of Israel.