The Presentation of the Lord, also known as the Presentation of Christ in the Temple or Candlemas, is a Christian festival celebrated on 2 February, forty days after Christmas. It commemorates the moment when Mary and Joseph brought the infant Jesus to the Temple in Jerusalem, in accordance with Jewish custom, to present him to God and to offer a ritual sacrifice. At its heart, the festival is a celebration of offering, revelation, and divine light—a threshold between the mysteries of the Nativity and the unfolding path toward Lent.
In the Gospel of Luke, it is recorded that as Jesus was brought to the Temple, he was recognised by two prophetic figures: Simeon, who had long awaited the coming of the Messiah, and Anna, a wise and devout prophetess. Simeon’s declaration—often called the Nunc Dimittis—is a deeply mystical moment: “My eyes have seen your salvation… a light to reveal you to the nations.” This idea of Jesus as the light of the world becomes central to the spiritual tone of Candlemas.
The name Candlemas itself derives from the ancient tradition of blessing candles on this day—a ritual symbolising Christ as the light that dispels darkness, both in the world and in the soul. In many Christian communities, particularly in Catholic, Anglican, and Orthodox traditions, candles are brought to church and lit during services, creating a gentle sea of illumination that mirrors the spiritual theme of the day.
Theologically, the Presentation is a festival of encounter. It brings together the old and the new—Jewish law and Christian fulfilment, prophetic longing and messianic presence, temple ritual and spiritual awakening. It invites reflection on the sacredness of time, where the divine enters not with fanfare, but through faithful devotion and quiet recognition.
Spiritually, Candlemas is a moment of offering and openness. Mary’s act of presenting her child is also one of surrender—entrusting the future to divine will. It echoes the inner gesture of the contemplative soul: to offer what is most precious to the mystery, and to trust in what cannot yet be seen. It is a day to honour not only light, but the courage it takes to carry it forward.
In many cultures, Candlemas also marks a seasonal turning point—midway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. Like its Celtic counterpart Imbolc, it gestures toward the return of warmth and growth. In this way, the flickering candle becomes a sign of hope reborn, of the light returning slowly, faithfully, within and without.
Artistically, the Presentation has inspired works of great tenderness and luminosity—iconography, chant, poetry, and stained glass all echoing the quiet moment when the divine was recognised in human form. The elderly Simeon and Anna, the humble young parents, and the child whose presence shifted time itself—all are held in sacred stillness.
The Presentation of the Lord is ultimately a feast of light, waiting, and devotion. It reminds the soul that divine presence is often encountered in small acts of faith, in quiet moments of recognition, and in the light that flickers faithfully even in the deepest winter. In offering what we hold dear, we too may find our vision renewed, and our hearts kindled with a light that endures.
