There is a legend, passed down from generation to generation, about St. Symeon the God-Bearer. There is a truth in it that makes its factuality irrelevant. Sometimes stories are handed down because they answer a question everyone has. And that's all there needs to be to it.
The legend goes that St. Symeon was one of the translators of the Septuagint, the oldest translation of the Old Testament we still have. St. Symeon was about to translate the passage "The virgin shall conceive".
He paused.
That couldn't be right.
Clearly the text meant young girl. Symeon raised his pen. But something stopped him. He knew it couldn't be true. Virgins don't conceive. Can't. But Symeon knew the text, inside and out. And despite his better judgement he knew the text was "virgin", not "maiden". Something inside him was as confident of that truth as the pen he held.
I know I run into these moments. The small still voice tries to say something... And I find myself ignoring it. Involuntarily. I just can't stop and listen. And not for a lack of trying! The spirit may be willing but the flesh is busy. This is the purpose of asceticism: to slow the body down, to render the body quiet.
This is far easier said than done.
But when that small still voice is finally heard.
I was seventeen the first time I heard Him and recognized Him for Who He Is. He spoke of my future and the choices required to secure it. I went running to my priest. I wanted to believe what I heard! It was wonderful! But I had no wish to be duped. And this seemed to be too good to be true.
"No, it's real."
"How do you know, Father?"
"He spoke of peace. If it's God then He only speaks of peace."
And I knew he was right. I felt whole, secure, right, when I thought of what I heard. Nothing, nobody, else did this.
I then proceeded to forget it. And do all sorts of things against it. Not purposefully, mind; the flesh wants to stay busy. And waiting is not a busy process. By the time the promises became fulfilled, six years later, I was thoroughly unworthy of what I'd heard. I'd despaired, roamed far, given up on there being any mercy for me in this life.
So when it happened I raged. Where had God been these six years? Why now, now that I'd strayed as far as I had? How dare God show up and fulfill His promises now?
I called a friend, grabbed, a bat, and went into the woods. I began bashing down every piece of foliage I could. I wanted to give up. And found I couldn't. Wouldn't. I screamed in anguish, cursing God and every piece of creation I could think of. I wanted to just lie down and die and get it over with, why now???
My friend was totally nonplussed, of course. He told me I was full of shit, and he told me the real reason I was angry: that I'd wasted my time. And no one was responsible for that but me. But I could still be happy.
I turned on my friend, bat brandished. I wanted to bash his brains in. He didn't flinch. He repeated it: I still had a chance to be happy. Bashing his brains in wouldn't change that. Not even then.
I lowered the bat and growled. "Fine, let's fucking get it over with."
My friend's laughter stung. "You really want to be miserable that bad?"
"Fuck you! What if I do?"
He shrugged. And walked away.
A moment later I was beside him, bat safely secured.
Why do I bring this up? Because if you don't know when the Septuagint was made I'll tell you: three hundred years before Christ.
Three.
HUNDRED.
Years.
And I couldn't wait six.
St. Symeon waited. He saw the Jewish state fall to the Romans. His friends and family were all dead. All of them. Time wore on. And on. And on. Messiahs came and went. Herod, that butcher, built a temple. And Symeon forgave that.
And then one day Symeon heard a small still voice. He went into the temple. Around six weeks of age is when babies begin to smile for the first time.
Was that first smile for you, 300 year old Symeon?
After all the empty promises of a military leader, of seeing all the empty hopes dashed, did your long-awaited answer come in the form of a baby's smile?
"Now you shall dismiss your servant, O Lord, according to Your word. My eyes have seen Your salvation, which You have prepared for all people! A light for the revelation to the Gentiles and the glory of Your people Israel"
