One of the things the Catholic tradition does exceedingly well is subtlety. We get it from the Jewish tradition, of course, as with so much else.
So, for instance, in the Jewish scriptures, the author of Judges tells a series of tales from Israel’s early history after the conquest of Canaan in which Israel goes through multiple cycles of sin, punishment for sin, repentance, restoration by God, decay, sin and so on. In each tale, the judge sent by God to restore Israel comes from a tribe of Israel that is further and further north geographically. And by “north” we mean “north of Jerusalem”. The book then ends (after a final spectacular display of depravity) with the moral “In those days, Israel had no king. Everyone did as he saw fit.” (Judges 21:25).
In other words, the author illustrates geographically what the next books will illustrate politically and theologically: the need for the establishment, not merely of a monarchy, but of a divinely chosen king (a theme that will only find full fruition in the Messianic kingdom). The further Israel gets away from Jerusalem, the city of the Great King who is David, and the Solomonic Temple that is the House of God, the further from God. It’s a lesson we are likely to miss until it is pointed out to us, and then we can’t not see it. Scriptural authors love this sort of subtlety.
And so does the Church’s liturgical tradition. So, for instance, you can go for years celebrating the various feasts of the Church and never pick up on the way in which they are not random occurrences and often have a golden thread tying them together.
One particularly good example of that is happening today: Candlemas. Why Candlemas?
To get at that, you have to look at the other feasts the Church has been celebrating since the Great Feast of the Nativity on December 25.
These include things like Epiphany, the Solemnity of Mary, the Baptism of the Lord, as well as Masses focusing on the call of the first disciples, the conversion of St. Paul, and such events as the Wedding at Cana and the very beginning of his public ministry. What ties them all together, along with Christmas and Candlemas? Clearly, it is not about chronology (a subject about which liturgy is famously indifferent, which is why Lent, for instance, leapfrogs from the very beginning Christ’s public ministry and the Temptation in the Wilderness to the very end, with Holy Week and Jesus Passion, Death, and Resurrection, then we get a 50 day celebration till Pentecost–and then we go back to Ordinary Time and the return to Jesus three year teaching ministry).
No. What ties all the stuff between Christmas and Candlemas together is not chronology, but theme: These Masses are all about Manifestation. Every single one of them is a liturgical representation of a moment in which Christ reveals himself for who he is.
Candlemas is so called because it commemorates this moment of revelation in the gospel of Luke:
And when the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord (as it is written in the law of the Lord, “Every male that opens the womb shall be called holy to the Lord”) and to offer a sacrifice according to what is said in the law of the Lord, “a pair of turtledoves, or two young pigeons.” Now there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon, and this man was righteous and devout, looking for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. And it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he should not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ. And inspired by the Spirit he came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him according to the custom of the law, he took him up in his arms and blessed God and said,
“Lord, now let your servant depart in peace,
according to your word;
for my eyes have seen your salvation
which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
a light for revelation to the Gentiles,
and for glory to your people Israel.” (Lk 2:22–32)
The Candle in Candlemas is a symbol of Christ, the light for revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of his people Israel.
Accordingly, here’s a lovely little song I’ve always liked, in honor of the day: