O thou who camest from above
the fire celestial to impart,
kindle a flame of sacred love
on the mean altar of my heart.

This Sunday the Church celebrates the feast of our Lord’s presentation in the temple, 
giving us a dramatic vision of God’s return. “The Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple… but who can stand when he appears?” In the prophets the return of the Lord often spells judgment, but a salvific judgment. He comes like a refiner’s fire – cleansing, revealing the gold beneath the dross. This is a God whose coming is as ardent as it is ardently desired.

It is no coincidence that the place of this coming is the temple, since righteousness in scripture is closely associated with worship – a people whose hearts are hardened cannot worship rightly. Israel’s worship is not just a duty but her very life, the life she shares with God. In words brought to life by Handel, the prophet Malachi promises that God will “purify the sons of Levi; that they may offer unto the Lord an offering in righteousness”. In this child the promise is wondrously fulfilled; God gives himself as the righteous offering that kindles life. Crib and cross are here united in the temple, the place of God’s presence and the place of sacrifice. This is the same temple that Jesus will so dramatically cleanse before identifying it with his own body. Here in him is the place of encounter, the common life of God and man. Here is man’s worship joyfully offered, and the God who joyfully receives it.

When we feel the weight of our own weakness may we, like Simeon, find rest in this God who plays our part as well as his. And when our own little altar seems mean indeed, may we find it gladdened and beautified by the fire of Christ that ever burns there.