One more painting! A pastel (drawing or painting --take your pick), an image of something from the end of the Lukan birth narrative of one of two old people, a female who attended to the temple service and prayers who was actually looking for the consolation of Israel. 

Here is a portrait of Anna, a woman who has no voice in Luke --only her male counterpart named Simeon speaks in Luke, but he conveys in the Nunc Dimitis what they both were looking and waiting for. Somehow, maybe through the vision that comes with wisdom and age these two were able to see in this newborn child who was brought to the temple for dedication to God --they could see in him their hopes and that of their nation for a savior.

I didn't supply the almost obligatory halo on Jesus, or on Mary, (both borrowed from L'innocence by William-Adolphe Bouguereau) because I want to urge us to think about these other people as saints (minus halos). A holy one (hagios) is certainly what Anna was, having spent so much time in prayer and meditation in the temple. One of our older members was my model for Anna. Ms. Pearle was a sweet lady who came to church almost every Sunday until she died this spring. I think of Pearle like some of the sisters of religious orders I've known, holy women of God, waiting to see their Lord.

I had an odd experience with one of the holy ones I knew from my youth. Sister Edna Herbst was a nun that taught art and was the department head at my alma mater of La Roche College in Pittsburgh. Sister Edna seemed a very old person when I was in school as she was thin and gaunt, and I have to admit, we stupid boys gave her quite a time. As a holy one, though, Sister Edna loved us and prayed for us every day (she told us that). And we certainly needed her prayers! Some of us more than others. So on a visit to Pittsburgh a few years ago my mom, my wife and I headed to the Divine Providence Convent to pay Sister Edna a visit. My mom had stayed in touch with her and some of the other sisters through the years and she knew Sister was going downhill and had been moved to their convent's nursing wing.

When we walked into her room, Sister Edna became quite animated, looked at me and started to stroke my hand and kiss my hand and exclaim, "I LOVE YOU!" over and over. It was quite a shock. Her memory must be really bad, I thought. Then my wife whispered to me that Sister Edna was mistaking me for the Lord! Apparently a grey beard didn't matter, any bearded male would fit the bill just fine in that mostly female environment of the convent. What a strange thing! --to have someone think you are Jesus, the Holy Christ! 

We stayed just a little while, since there really was no other conversation beyond that, --what does one say to the Lord? "So, how are things?" "Everything going well?" Like I said, it was odd. Then we learned that Sister Edna died a few days after that at the age of 96 on July 10, 2010. I can't help but think that our visit and my unwitting disguise as Jesus put her somehow at ease and helped her finally release her life into the arms of the one she had so long waited for and loved!  

Luke has no update on Anna or Simeon, but we can easily imagine they likewise did not last to see the baby grow into the man who would be king. I wonder if they would have recognized what he ended up being as the same as what they hoped for. He wasn't a warrior like David or Judas Maccabeus -A.K.A., --The HAMMER, so maybe a crucified Lord and risen savior would have been way outside their expectation What they had in mind, as Luke tells it, was the Christ who saves his people, rescues the nation and the world, delivers justice and mercy, loves and nourishes the children of God.  Luke tells the stories so we know who Jesus really is --that he is no imposter, that HE is Lord and not Caesar!  As Simeon said, (paraphrased) Lord, I must have died and gone to heaven! Please take me now! I've seen the savior! Hallelujah!

Ditto Anna! And ditto Sister Edna!