Worship - 1 February 2026

Summary of this week's theme

Facing my thirteenth Candlemas at Santa Margarita, I have been wondering what there is still to say about the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple and the Purification of his mother.

Well, sometimes God gives us blessings in disguise. Sometimes God offers us living parables that interrupt our plans and remind us that we are not, in fact, in control. An unexpected overnight stay in Barcelona after our diocesan Synod was one such reminder — and it brought me back to a central theme of today’s gospel: patience.

That is what binds Simeon and Anna together — patience and attentiveness. They had lived long enough to know that meaning rarely arrives on schedule. Waiting itself can be faithful work. Simeon had learned not to rush, not to demand proof, not to force meaning into being. Because of that attentiveness, he recognised hope when it arrived quietly, small enough to be held.

Anna, too, recognised what others might have missed. And she did not keep that hope to herself. Her patient faith gave her a voice. She spoke to anyone who would listen about renewal and healing. Hope, if it is real, must be spoken aloud.

Alongside patience, this incident speaks of inclusiveness. Simeon names the child as ‘a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to Israel.’ This light is not owned, fenced in, or guarded. It is not a possession of the Temple or the devout. It is given freely, and it widens as it is shared.

Yet Candlemas light is also unsettling. Simeon speaks of falling and rising, of hidden thoughts revealed. Light exposes as much as it warms. It challenges our assumptions about power, wealth, status, and success. Luke’s gospel insists that good news is found not at the centre of privilege, but among the hungry, the poor, the sick, the excluded, and the forgotten. This is where Christ chooses to be.

And then there is Mary. She hears words of hope that carry a cost. Love will wound her. Faith will not shield her from grief. Candlemas offers no sentimentality — only presence. To love deeply is to risk being pierced, but it is also the path to joy.

Candlemas reminds us that God’s purposes unfold in God’s time. We are called to patience, openness, and trust — even when the journey is disrupted. Flights may be delayed, but if we remain attentive, we may yet arrive where God intends us to be.

Given all that, I suppose I really should be grateful for the inspiring delay!