The Feast of the Purification
February 2, 2024
[Revised and reposted]
IT’S Groundhog Day in America and Crepe Day in France. These empty customs fill the void where the beautiful and uplifting Feast of the Purification of Mary, also known as Candlemas Day, the liturgical end to the Christmas season, once was — and still is to the few.
“All the mysteries of the Man-God have for their object the purifying of our hearts,” said the renowned Dom Prosper Guéranger. And so it is with Candlemas. It’s “a day of purification, renewal, hope, an honoring of obedience, and light.”
A young couple and their infant, turtle doves, an ornate temple and two wizened figures filled with mystical fervor.
These are the vital elements of this day. “The most pure and beautiful Virgin, in obedience to the law, presented the child Jesus in the temple, offering a couple of turtle-doves for her purification, and five sicles as a ransom for her first-born, Jesus,” wrote Guéranger.
In the Temple, Mary and Joseph encountered the aged Simeon and the prophetess widow, Anna, the only two of the masses who recognized the divinity of the infant.
To behold the promised Redeemer, and then depart from this world to his eternal home, had been the suppliant prayer of Simeon from the days of his youth to his venerable old age; and this silent but intense desire of his heart was gratified on the Feast of the Purification, which we celebrate today. (Source)
Simeon foretold Mary’s sorrow:
And Simeon blessed them, and said to Mary his mother: Behold this child is set for the fall, and for the resurrection of many in Israel, and for a sign which shall be contradicted; And thy own soul a sword shall pierce, that, out of many hearts, thoughts may be revealed. (Luke 2:34-35)
According to St. Anselm, of the candles traditionally blessed and lit on this day, “The wax of the candles signifies the virginal flesh of the Divine Infant; the wick figures His soul and the flame of His divinity.”
The temple scene was often depicted in the personal prayer books, or “Book of Hours,” carried by the nobility of the Middle Ages, such as this one from a 15th-century Book of Hours:
THE PRESENTATION IN THE TEMPLE, miniature cut from a Book of Hours possibly made for Étienne Chevalier, 1470
Learn more about Candlemas traditions here and here.
The Clerk of Oxford offers “Candlemas and the Carol of King Cnut,” the 15th-century meditations of a mother of 14 children on the mystical events of the Purification, and this beautiful medieval Candlemas carol:
Revertere, revertere,
The queen of bliss and of beauty.
Behold what life that we run in,
Frail to fall and ever like to sin
Through our enemy’s enticing;
Therefore we sing and cry to thee:
Revertere, revertere,
The queen of bliss and of beauty.
Come hither, Lady, fairest flower,
And keep us, Lady, from dolour;
Defend us, Lady, and be our succour,
For we cease not to call to thee:
Revertere, revertere,
The queen of bliss and of beauty.
Turn our life, Lady, to God’s lust, [pleasure]
Sin to flee and fleshly lust,
For, after him, in thee we trust
To keep us from adversity.
Revertere, revertere,
The queen of bliss and of beauty.
This holy day of Purification
To the temple thou bare our salvation,
Jesu Christ, thine own sweet Son,
To whom therefore now sing we:
Revertere, revertere,
The queen of bliss and of beauty.
Farewell, Christmas fair and free!
Farewell, New Year’s Day with thee!
Farewell, the holy Epiphany!
And to Mary now sing we:
Revertere, revertere,
The queen of bliss and of beauty.
NOW Candlemas is come at last, therefore my dearest friend,
Since Christmas time is almost past, I mean to make an end
Of this our mirth and merriment, and now the truth to tell,
He must be from our presence sent, O Christmas, now farewell.
Now Christmas will no longer stay, my very heart doth grieve,
Before from us he take his way, of him I’ll take my leave:
It is a time none of the least, as I the truth may tell,
For him we’ll make a worthy feast, then Christmas, now farewell.
With nappy ale both brown and stale, we’ll fill our bumpers full,
And pippins too as I am true, they make the best lambswool:
So fast and smooth it will go down, thy sorrow to expel,
And then at last when all is past, Christmas we’ll bid farewell.
A traditional hymn:
Candlemas
The angel-lights of Christmas morn,
Which shot across the sky,
Away they pass at Candlemas,
They sparkle and they die.
Comfort of earth is brief at best,
Although it be divine;
Like funeral lights for Christmas gone,
Old Simeon’ s tapers shine.
And then for eight long weeks and more,
We wait in twilight grey,
Till the High Candle sheds a beam
On Holy Saturday.
We wait along the penance-tide
Of solemn fast and prayer,
Whilst song is hushed, and lights grow dim,
In the sin-laden air.
And while the sword in Mary’s soul
Is driven home, we hide
In our own hearts, and count the wounds
Of passion and of pride.
And still, though Candlemas be spent
And alleluias o’er,
Mary is music in our need.
And Jesus light in store.
(Source)
— Comments —
Tony S. writes:
Just as the American Protestant/Masonic forces have changed the meaning of celebrating Christmas (Christ’s mass) into a day of gift giving and consumerism as we discussed a month ago, the feast of the presentation of our Lord has been secularized into Groundhog’s day. Candlemas celebrated the appearance of light (the Light) into the darkness of this fallen world and the groundhog will determine if the darkness of winter will end and give rise to the light of spring. The baby Jesus is presented to the Temple/world and, as absurd as this sounds, the groundhog is the secular stand in for the world’s Lord and Savior and for which a bunch of heathens wait for an appearance.
This worst part of this is that if you discuss this with an American faux-Christian they will think you are crazy. The willful blindness is amazing.
