Simeon took the child in his arms, and praised God, saying,

"Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen you're your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel." (Luke 2:29-32)

"My eyes have seen your salvation." This one phrase in this beautiful canticle, the Nunc Dimittis, has always intrigued me.

• What - precisely - did Simeon see?
• What - precisely - did Anna see?
• What - precisely - does salvation look like?

Our gospel for today provides some answers. The narrative describes what was concrete, or real, that day in the temple; what was visible to the naked eye; what could be seen on the surface of things.

On the surface, Simeon and Anna saw a child - an infant boy in the arms of his parents.

On the surface, they saw that the child's mother and father were devout Jews. Mary and Joseph were acting in obedience to the "law of the Lord." (Luke 2:23) They were coming to the temple to fulfill the purification rituals required of new mothers, as set out in the Book of Leviticus.

On the surface, Simeon and Anna saw that this family was poor. The young couple had brought with them a pair of birds to be offered in sacrifice. This type of sacrifice - this substitution - was permitted only for those who could not afford a lamb.

On the surface, Simeon and Anna probably saw that the parents and baby were hot, and dusty. No doubt they had walked the 60 or so miles from their home in Nazareth to the temple at Jerusalem. Perhaps they were hungry? Perhaps they were thirsty? Perhaps they were simply exhausted?

We know that Simeon and Anna were advanced in years. They were righteous and devout, living in prayerful expectation of the coming Messiah. Simeon was filled with the Spirit. Anna was a prophet. Both were familiar figures in the temple. Indeed, Anna - we're told - never left.

This day, presumably, was like all days - nothing out of the ordinary, until the child appeared. And then, it seemed, the windows of heaven burst open - and, similarly, "windows of perception" for both Simeon and Anna.

Simeon and Anna saw with "new eyes" that day. They saw with the eyes of the heart, and with the eyes of faith. Charles Taylor, revisiting the work of William James, has noted "certain truths only (emphasis added) open to us as a result of our commitment." And St Augustine wrote: "Faith is to believe what you do not yet see; the reward for this is to see what you believe."

In the temple that day, Simeon and Anna saw what they believed. They experienced "double vision" of sorts. They saw through the surface of things to something just beneath. They saw beyond what was visible to something invisible. They had, in the words of James Hillman, a "perception of potential" - the concealed potential in a boy named Jesus.

This child - this baby - was the Lord's Messiah. This child was "a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to [God's people] Israel." (Luke2: 32). This child was God's salvation, not only for Israel, but also for all of humanity - indeed, for all of creation.

Paul Tillich suggests: "The mystery of salvation is the mystery of a child." "A child," writes Tillich, "is real and not yet real, in history and not yet historical. Its nature is visible and invisible; it is here and not yet here. And just this is the character of salvation. Salvation has the nature of a child."

As alluded to earlier, it seems to me that both the nature of a child and the nature of salvation have something to do with "potential." And this potential is seen - this potential is recognized - through eyes transformed by the greatest of spiritual gifts; through eyes transformed by faith, and by hope, and by love.

When a mother first sees her newborn infant, she sees both the child, and all that the child may be, and become. She sees - in the words of Hillman - "an invisible potential...folded all through the visible, like butter in a French croissant or the fragrant air in risen bread." A mother with child - through the eyes of the heart - sees her child growing, and becoming strong - filled with wisdom. She sees, or imagines, "the favor of God upon the child," and rejoices.

I think that salvation is something like this. For people of faith - who see with the eyes of faith - God is the "concealed potential" in all of life. God is present, for example, in the bread and the wine; in solitude and in community; in the ordinary events of everyday life; in those whom we love, and those whom we find it difficult to love. And God, of course, is the concealed potential in every individual, in each one of us.

Simeon saw this in the temple that day. And so did Anna. A baby - "like his brothers and sisters in every respect" (Hebrews 2:17) - but also "the dawn of redemption," and Savior of the world. The full, and perfect, realization of this potential has not yet burst forth. But if we see with the eyes of our hearts, and the eyes of our faith, we will surely capture glimpses - "hints and guesses" - of something valuable beyond measure, right here in our midst. Something seeking its final, and conclusive epiphany. The kingdom of God is, indeed, very near.

My homily was intended to end at this point (and, in fact, at our 8 o'clock service, it did end here). But I feel the need to include an epilogue, or postlude now. This week, we have witnessed the inescapable reality of death without warning - our beloved Norma, an elderly patient in a Palestinian hospital, the crewmembers of the space shuttle Columbia, and a group of teenagers skiing in British Columbia. No doubt there are many more examples - thousands upon thousands - across the earth.

The question is then: What about these people? What about their potential?

My only answer - and it is a half-finished thought - is that they have been transformed: from a world of darkness, to a world of light; from mortal existence, to life everlasting; from the visible realm of life on earth, to the invisible realm of life with God. There remains no "potential" for these men and women, but rather perfect completion, perfect wholeness, and perfect peace in the tender embrace of our God.