SLIDE 1
February 5, 2012 Presentation of Christ in the Temple - Candlemas Malachi 3:1-4 Hebrews 2:14-18 Luke 2:22-40 X In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. An African folktale. There was a great king. He ruled over several villages. One day the king received an urgent message from the chief of one of his villages. The chief’s son, a young man, had been killed during a hunt. The son had been deeply loved by his family and by everyone in the village. The chief asked the king to come and be with them in their mourning. The king sent lots of fine foods and money to the grieving villagers so they could have an grand, spectacular funeral, but the king didn’t go. Some years later, the king’s wife died. He had loved her very much. He sent word out to his villages inviting them to come to the funeral. The chief and his village recalled how the king had responded to their grief and what seemed important to him. They gathered together their best food and their prized treasures and sent them to the king, but the people didn’t go to the funeral. The king realized that he had all this great food and wealth, but it wasn’t what he
- needed. He needed people to be with him in his grief, in his emptiness.
The story offers wisdom about where we receive true comfort and strength. As I understand it, a Sudanese man got up and told that story in church when his bishop visited. The bishop had sent lots of money to support the congregation, but had found it difficult to come and be with them. The person who told me this story compared it President Bush flying over New Orleans after Katrina. I well remember the image of the solitary President looking out his airplane window and seeing people on rooftops. It was among the lowest points of his presidency. Compare it to one of the highest points of his presidency, the day soon after 9/11 when he went to Ground Zero. While he spoke to people with a megaphone, he had his arm around a fireman. He went and embraced people in their pain and loss and confusion. One image says, “I’m with you.” The other, “I’m not with you.” When I saw that picture of President Bush looking out over New Orleans, I felt sorrow for
- him. I was empathetic. I’ve have those moments too when I’ve been more detached than I