Anna’s Tale
Isaiah 61:10-62:3, Luke 2:22-40
January 1, 2006
Rev. Marcia J. Hauer


I was an old woman the day the family came to the Temple. I had been watching people come and go for many years. Each time I saw a woman with a baby come for her ritual purification, I’d wonder, “Is this the child? Is this the woman who has borne the Messiah?� So each time such a family came, I’d try to talk to them. I’d tell them what a special child they had and how this child might be the one to bring Israel back to wholeness. I never knew what kind of reception to expect from these people. Most of them just looked at me as if they thought that I was just a crazy old lady and hurried on about their business. They didn’t know, or didn’t care that I knew things that they could only dream of.

You see, when I was a young woman, I became a widow after only 7 years of marriage. We didn’t have any children, so my sorrow was double. Not only was I alone, I had no one to take care of my needs. According to law and custom, a woman could not own property and needed to have a man to care for her. I had no one and I had to do something to earn my way in the world. My father had served at the Temple, so I knew that I could go there and spend my time in worship and prayer. I knew, too, that I could earn enough there to survive. What I didn’t know was that I would find a place there. You see, God had given me the gift of prophecy. I wasn’t aware of that gift until quite awhile after I started spending my days at the Temple. Sometimes I would just sense that someone was going to do something foolish and I’d try to warn them. A few came back and thanked me for the warning. They had taken what I’d said to heart and had done something to prevent the problem from happening. Others came back to tell me that they hadn’t believed what I’d told them and that they had learned a hard lesson. Most didn’t even pause to hear what I’d told them. After all, what does a poor woman know about the ways of the world? At least, that’s what some of them said. Mostly, what I told people was pretty obvious. You know how it is, when a person insists on behaving a certain way, the consequences are easy to figure out.

As time went on, I sensed that I would see the messiah before I died. So, whenever a woman with a child came, I would seek her out to tell her how special her child was, how important to the world that child could be. I knew without any doubt that God showers us with blessings every day and that we have an obligation to point that out and to share them with everyone we meet. I knew that God loves us, each one of us, so immensely that each of us can do great things. Each person alive can make a difference in the world. So when I’d meet a new child and his or her parents, I’d share with them what I knew. Most of them were polite, but they didn’t really want to talk to me. I don’t know if I made any sort of impression on those parents or not. I hope I did, but most people were so focused on just getting by—having enough food to eat, a place to live and not getting in trouble with the Romans, most of them had little hope that their child would have a better life than they did. All most of them wanted for their children was that they be able to grow up and to live a somewhat peaceful life.

Our beloved Israel had a history of being invaded and taken over by countries that didn’t understand or appreciate our ways. There were the Assyrians, the Egyptians, the Philistines, the Babylonians, the Greeks and now the Romans, all of them trying to impose their ways on us. All of them trying to make life for us hard. We lived in virtual slavery under the Romans. We were not allowed to become citizens and, without citizenship, we had no say in anything—not that we’d have much influence. In order to become a citizen, a person had to be rich and willing to live as a Roman—worship their gods, celebrate their festivals and adopt their culture. Most of us Jews wouldn’t have anything to do with that sort of life, so our lot was to do the best we could with what we had, and that wasn’t’ much with the taxes and the oppression that we had to live with. So it’s no wonder that most of the parents didn’t want to listen to me when I told them that their child could be the one to turn things around, that their child was the special one who could bring an end to oppression.

There was a man who frequently came to the Temple to pray. His name was Simeon. We were around the same age and had no family to depend on. His children were grown and had lives of their own. We became acquainted the way people whose paths often cross do. Since we were not related, we couldn’t speak together or have any other sort of private relationship, but we developed ways to keep in touch. One of the things I learned about him was that he believed that he would see the Messiah before he died, too. We both watched as new babies came to the Temple for their circumcisions or because their parents brought them when they came to sacrifice or when they came to the festivals. Neither of us knew which of the children would be the one, but we knew that if we spoke to the parents and helped them to understand the role that they could play in raising the child to know God’s love and blessing, that might be enough to change our lives.

So each day Simeon and I went to our respective sides of the Temple, women on one side, men on the other and we prayed. We spent hours praying for the sake of our people. We prayed that the Romans would go and let us live in peace. We prayed that our beloved Israel would know a just government. We prayed that all people would know that there is but one God and that God loves them no matter what. We prayed for our lives and for the lives of everyone we knew.

Finally, the day came when a couple with a new baby came for their purification and to thank God for the safe birth of their child. Somehow, I knew that this baby was special. I knew that his parents would listen. Simeon knew, too. We both went to this little family and spoke to them. We told them what a special child they had. We told them that he would grow strong and that he would be the one to end oppression, that he would be the one to heal the sick and to work miracles. His father didn’t have much to say, and, for that matter, neither did his mother, but we knew that they were listening. We could tell that they were troubled by the news. And we could tell that they took what we had to say seriously. They knew that theirs was not going to be an easy path, but they knew, too, that God was with them in their task.

Simeon and I continued our work at the Temple until we could no longer do it. We never saw that small family again, or if we did, it was through the crowds. I know that our work needs to continue. Every child needs to know that he or she is God’s gift to the world, that she is the answer to the cry of the oppressed, that he is God’s hope for a wounded world. The child who lives in every adult needs to know these things, too. We are God’s people and we are showered with blessings. We, all of us, have a job to do to make those blessings visible to the wounded world and to let all people know that they are all anointed to bring God’s realm into being.

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