For those of us who love nothing more than the peace of a quiet parish church, mid-week, or a cathedral very early in the morning, it’s fair to say that we would have found the public spaces of the great Temple in Jerusalem a challenge. The temple was a place of great activity, of commerce, of animal sacrifice, and therefore of blood. When Mary and Joseph went to the Temple to be purified from childbirth, and to make the required sacrifice for their first born son, they would have entered (in the outer courtyard) a noisy hub-bub of people and animals, and busyness.
Which makes it remarkable, to me, that they are noticed, by Simeon and Anna and not only noticed, but recognised for who they are. Simeon and Anna are elderly people who spent their time in the Temple.
Simeon and Anna notice the holy family. See here a 12th century enamel from Georgia, Joseph carrying two pigeons, sacrifice of poor people, those who can’t afford to buy a lamb. They’re poor people, not people who are generally paid much attention.
(You know, some months ago I walked out of the cathedral at the end of a service with Sir John Major and I saw everyone looking at him. Apparently the Archbishop of Canterbury has the same experience when he walks with the Pope! There’s often a real pecking order when it comes to who we look at which puts us all in our place.) It’s remarkable that amidst the crowds, Simeon and Anna see the holy family and realise that despite appearances, the ancient prophecies have come true. The prophet Ezekiel prophesied that the divine glory of God would return to the temple and the city would be named ‘The Lord is there’, now, more than this, they realise that Emmanuel, God is with them. Their life long hope has come to them, from the future into present – here is Gods Messiah. Gods new creation has begun right in their midst. (This is how Rembrandt depicts the scene.)
Paying attention, noticing and seeing, are very significant within the life of faith. Generally Mary and Joseph, poor people, were not the sort of people to be noticed, or to seek attention from strangers. But we do all of us, need to matter, and part of that is knowing that we not invisible, someone sees us. No one is invisible to God. God had seen Mary, the poor young woman in a small unimportant village, in fact we’re told that God ‘regarded her’ and chose her to be the mother of his son. And God sees and regards each of us, with the tender love of a parent.
Being seen is vital to well-being. The first thing that a baby sees is a face. Babies can’t focus very far, their focus is the distance from the crook of an elbow to the face of the person holding them, often the one who is feeding them. We’ve learnt that this early eye contact is formative for the baby’s development. To see and be seen, to be given attention is our vital need at the beginning of life, and a basic need thereafter. It wards off loneliness.
Yet, perhaps as never before, our attention is fragile, because calls on our attention are so demanding. Here, by the way, were trying to keep worship mobile-phone free, as far as we can, because what’s on them is designed to constantly seek our attention. As a generation, we are attention-saturated, our attention is now a commodity, it generates data and data sells. Our attention is valuable, too valuable to be sold.
Into all the noise and distraction, God sees each one of us. Pays us attention, regards us and knows us. When we pray, we are opening ourselves to this attention, like the baby resting in the arms of its mother or father, seeing and being seen.
Simone Weil, the French philosopher and mystic wrote in the early years of the 20 century, ‘Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.’ To give someone else our time and attention is a form of love, and we can practice paying attention to develop our ability (despite all the distractions) to pay attention to one another, the wider world, and to God.
The exhibition here in the cathedral, on loan from the National Gallery, works with modern technology to help us to practice paying attention and as such is beautifully compatible with Christian place and Christian ministry, not just because of its religious subject, but because it helps us to practice paying attention. To be taken into this complex painting by Gossaert, The Adoration of the Magi, is a revelation of fascinating detail. We are able to pay close attention to the hairs of the coat of the dog, the weave and texture of a bag, the hidden angel, and paying attention, brings delight and value to the experience.
Gossaert creates this gorgeous scene within a crumbling architecture that draws us in, showing Christ, hope of the world, coming as a new creation, and right in the middle of the old one. The Church is to be a God’s Temple now, built up in mutual love, people paying attention to the needs of others, paying attention to the needs of the world, paying attention to God. Seeing the connections between all these things. And today, we celebrate Simeon and Anna, elderly people whose eye-sight may well be failing, but through whose prayers, and paying attention to God, can see and recognise what is most important. They notice the holy family for who they are. They see the Christ child and recognise him, he brings them delight, fulfilment: new life for Anna, who becomes an evangelist, and peace to Simeon, a completeness.
May we too practice paying attention, taking notice, seeing what is most important, above and through all the clamour, may we too learn to pay attention.
