Susception Day

Fr. Scott Haynes

When you are fond of someone you give them a nickname. When the Church is fond of one of its liturgical days, it gives it a nickname too. We have “Quasimodo Sunday” after Easter, “Laetare Sunday” in Lent, “Gaudete Sunday” in Advent. And today is a feast day the Church loves. Today’s Feast has four names. We call it the “Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary,” the “Presentation of Our Lord,” “Candlemas,” and this last one, you may not have heard of yet. Today’s feast is also called “Susception Day.”

That is what they often called this feast in the Middle Ages. If you want a clue to figure out the reason behind this nickname turn in your hand Missal to the introit for today. The Introit of today’s Mass begins with the Latin word suscepimus, which means “we receive” or “we embrace.” The text of the Suscepimus Deus introit on this Susception Day comes from Psalm 47: “We receive, we embrace, O God, Your mercy, in the midst of Your temple” (Ps. 47:10).

This Psalm, written centuries before Christ’s coming, is painting a picture of today’s Gospel scene. The Infant Jesus, who is our merciful Lord and Savior, is received and embraced in the Temple of the Lord. He is literally picked up and embraced by Simeon and Anna there in the Temple. In this Gospel scene what is prophesied in the psalm is fulfilled.

Now, let’s have a little Latin grammar session. The Latin word Suscipere essentially means “to receive, to pick up or to embrace”. This means more to us, of course, if we understand the context of how this word is being used.

In the ancient Greco-Roman world, a father acknowledged his newborn child by picking him up, embracing him, and placing him on his knee in the presence of witnesses. This same custom also prevailed among the Jews.

For example, in the Old Testament, Joseph brought his children Ephraim and Manasseh before his father Jacob and said: “They are my sons, whom God hath given me in this place. And [Jacob] said: Bring them to me that I may bless them…and when they were brought to him, he kissed and embraced them. ”

Just as in Judaism, so too in ancient Rome and Greece, the pater familias, the father of the family, showed his acceptance of the child into the family by picking up and embracing the child. But the pagans of the Roman Greco world also would sometimes reject a child.

So, if the father of the family did not embrace the child, the child was rejected from the family and either left on the roadside to die of natural causes, eaten by a wild animal, or to be taken in by another family who would raise the child as a slave. It is an aspect of Roman and Greek society that horrifies us all, for every child, created in the image and likeness of God, deserves the opportunity to live and grow and to be loved.

In Bethlehem, forty days before this day of Presentation in the Temple, we behold that happy scene where Saint Joseph picked up the baby Jesus and, with Mary, embraced Him and adored with love. Today in the temple. On the 40th day after his birth, the Gospel says: “Simeon took him into his arms” (Lk 2:28).

Simeon embraced Jesus and recognized in Him the Messiah. And at this point, Simeon sang one of the most beautiful canticles in Scripture: “Lord, now let thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word; for mine eyes have seen thy salvation which thou hast prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to thy people Israel.”

As we see the baby Jesus held by Simeon and then passed to Anna and the others in the Temple, they experienced great joy at the sight of the baby Jesus. You have experienced the joy of holding a baby, even if only for a few moments.

As the little one is passed from one person to the next, faces grow bright with awe and delight. A little child has the power to light up a room. The little child Jesus we celebrate today has the power to light up the world. As Simeon said in his canticle, Jesus is “a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory of your people Israel” (Lk. 2:32).

Now let’s return to today’s Introit, Suscepimus Deus. “We embrace, O God, Your mercy, in the midst of Your temple.” The Introit simply names the baby Jesus with the name “Mercy.” So in the Temple, at the scene of Christ’s Presentation, Simeon cradles Mercy in his arms.

One of the fathers of the Church one observed that, “the ancient carried the Infant, but the Infant guided the steps of the ancient.” Simeon, the image of all that in us has grown old with waiting, carries Mercy in his arms, but Mercy, by the light that shines on his face, guides the old man’s steps. If we would be guided by Mercy, we must first receive Mercy, the Mercy of God that comes to us in the outstretched arms of a little Child seeking to be held.

The Introit says that Mercy is given us in medio templi — in the middle of the temple. This places the Infant Christ, the human Face of Divine Mercy at the heart of today’s mystery. As in the Byzantine icon of today’s feast, all of the other figures in the Gospel are seen in relation to the Child. All of the other figures are seen, in fact, in the light of his face. Christ is placed in our arms today that we might gaze upon the human face of Divine Mercy and, in the light of that face, be transformed. Psalm 4 puts it beautifully. “Lift up the light of your face on us, O Lord” (Ps. 4:7). Psalm 33 says: “Look towards him and be radiant” (Ps. 33:6).

Blessed Mary is completely silent in today’s Gospel. Even when addressed by Simeon, she remains silent. Her silence is an intensity of listening. Some translations of the introit translate Sucepimus as “we ponder.” This translation reveals the Marian aspect of picking up and embracing Jesus. She teaches us to gaze into the light of His eyes and ponder his love for us.

Mary is silent, so as to take in Simeon’s song of praise, silent so as to capture his mysterious prophecy and hold it in her heart. She is silent because today her eyes say everything, eyes fixed on the face of the Infant Christ, eyes illumined by the brightness of his appearing.

She is the bride mentioned in the Old Testament book, Song of Songs, of whom it is said, “Behold, you are beautiful, my love, behold you are beautiful! Your eyes are doves behind your veil” (Ct. 4:1). Today, Joseph shares Mary’s silence. Silence is the expression of their communion in a tender and chaste love. Joseph listens with Mary. Saint Joseph is the first to enter deeply into the silence of the Virgin.

Yet in Judaism the father had an important role on the day of the presentation in the temple. This is recorded in the book of Numbers where it is written as a commandment that the father must redeem the firstborn son, that is, buy him back from God, by paying the Temple priest five silver shekels.

There is an irony in this: Joseph, the earthly father, stands proxy, buying back Jesus from God the Heavenly Father. And there is an ominous foreshadowing as well: Jesus, who tonight is redeemed from the Temple priest for five pieces of silver will later be sold to the Temple authorities for thirty.

It is his way of loving. It is his way of trusting her beyond words. The silence of Saint Joseph becomes for all consecrated persons a way of loving, a way of trusting, a way of pushing back the frontiers of hope. Joseph is necessary to the unfolding of the plan. God willed to need him. Saint Joseph’s role, like that of Mary, was not merely incidental, limited by time and space. He stands beside the Church today, silent, listening, tenderly focused on the Face of Christ in all his members.

Simeon represents the old priesthood disappearing into the light of Christ, our “merciful and faithful high priest before God” (Heb. 2:17). Simeon is the old priest pointing to the new. He speaks; he sings his praise; he utters prophecy. Simeon models the vocation of every priest charged in the celebration of the Eucharist with the calling down of the Spirit over altar, bread, wine, and people.

Simeon has a particular relationship with the Holy Spirit. Three times in as many verses Saint Luke emphasizes the mystical relationship of Simeon & the Holy Spirit: “The Holy Spirit was upon him…” (Lk. 2:25); “It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit…” (Lk. 2:26); “He came in the Spirit into the temple…” (Lk. 2:27). In the Holy Spirit, Simeon contemplates the Face of the Infant Christ; in the Spirit he raises his voice in prophecy and in thanksgiving.

Finally, there is Anna the prophetess, Anna the daughter of Phanuel whose name means “Face of God.” Anna has made the temple her home. Abiding day and night in adoration, she emerges from the recesses of the temple only to give thanks to God and speak of the Child. Drawn into the light of the Face of Christ Anna cannot but praise and immediately publish the good news “to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem” (Lk. 2:38).

Anna of the Face of God models the vocation of every consecrated woman called to be at once fully contemplative and fully apostolic. Anna’s encounter with the Infant Christ energizes and rejuvenates her. In some way, Anna is the first apostle sent out by the Spirit. Before Mary Magdalene and before the twelve, Anna announces Christ. She is compelled to speak but does so out of an “adoring silence.” She emerges from her secret place in the temple to publish the long-awaited arrival of Mercy with the light of his Face shining in her eyes.

Today in this scene of the Presentation of the Lord, Jesus, who is Mercy incarnate, was passed from the arms of Mary and Joseph into the arms of Simeon and, then, undoubtedly into the embrace of holy Anna.

Susception Day, the festival of the Presentation of the Lord in the Temple, celebrates the exchange of Mercy. Mercy given, Mercy embraced, Mercy exchanged. Now in this Holy Mass, we go to the Altar of God for the Eucharistic fulfillment of the Introit chant placed by the Church on our lips into the threshold of this holy Temple: “O God, we embrace Mercy in our arms, in the midst of Your temple” (Ps. 47:10).