I was browsing on the internet through some pictures by famous artists of the Presentation of Christ in the Temple.. I wish I could have reproduced them for you in a brochure, and then we could have had a very interesting discussion on them. So many artists have brought their own interpretation to bear on that event which we celebrate this morning.

One could describe a painting – any painting - as a piece of paper or canvas with some paint daubed on it, and leave it at that. However, a much more realistic response to it would be to look at it, and try to discern what message it was conveying, or to indicate how much it moved you. Pictures, like all art, do have the power to move us, to make us think, to stimulate, to give us pleasure and joy. Many, of course, have been painted to give glory to God.

We give this festival the much shorter title of ‘Candlemas’, because of its motif of light. The root of the idea is contained in the description of the child Jesus as being ‘a light to lighten the Gentiles’, the first hint in the Gospels that Jesus was not just for the Jews, but for the whole of humankind. Howard Jacobson, in his desire to portray Jesus as just a Jew in the excellent TV series about the history of Christianity would do well to take note. When we light our candles later in the service, they will be symbols of that light, which as St John said, lightens everyone that comes into the world. Jesus came to light up our lives, and that is our experience, even today. Jesus as ‘the light of the world’ is one of my favourite images of him and is indeed one of the great themes of John’s gospel. And here I pause to think of the famous painting by Holman Hunt of Jesus, the Light of the World. Jesus does indeed light up our lives.

There are, of course, many things which light up our lives. The birth of a child, a brand-new, mainline steam engine, the life and talents of other people – one could go on. And now, perhaps, you can begin to see where I am taking you. If you turn your eyes over in the direction of the organ, there is something, I suggest, which lights up our lives.

But when all is said and done, what is it? You could say this is just a collection of wood, metal and wires. However, it is much, much more. Wood, metal, wires – yes. But those materials have been transformed by, skilled, committed and careful people into something far greater than the sum of its parts. Those who took the trouble to watch it as it was rebuilt will have seen at first hand the loving care with which it was cleaned, new parts made, and then reassembled. There is dedication in that corner of our church, to a degree which is probably hard to better in any walk of life these days. The firm of Harrison and Harrison really has lived up to its reputation.

But there is more. Even given all that time and care, it is inert, lifeless, unless something else happens. Sir Christopher Wren famously referred to the organ in St Pauls as a ‘confounded box of whistles’ – a touch of tension at the time between himself as the architect, and the organ builder, who wanted more space, occasioning that remark.. Well, whistles some of the pipes certainly are. But here again, we need to talk about dedication, about the use of talents, about commitment and skill. I’m talking about playing it, of course.

We are blest in that we have five of our own people playing it this morning, from the venerable Tom to the youthful Billy. Tom, now in his 53rd year at that console, has grown old with the organ. It has been a very large part of his life, and he, like all good organists, has in his own way lit up the lives of generations of worshippers in this church.. For that, we salute you, Tom! In all this we are greatly blest, for there are many churches which cannot produce even one organist, let alone five or more.

How the organ lights up our worship! But it also has the power to light up our lives. If you come here next Saturday evening, as you are all invited, to listen to one of the finest up-and-coming organists in Britain, and to be entertained, you would have to have a heart of stone if you are not also moved and inspired by his playing. Inspired is a word which has overtones of the Holy Spirit about it, and I use it advisedly. John Robinson’s programme will cover, if not the whole spectrum of organ music, a considerable range – from quiet, meditative pieces, to the organ in all its splendour, and we are not only in for a treat, but a free one at that.

All this is not for the glory of any human person – not the Hsrrison and Harrison staff and workers, not Tom Carrick or anyone else. All this is to give glory to God in the highest, and in the process, to light up our lives, to inspire us, and to empower us as a congregation by the Spirit of Christ.

So, to turn your thoughts back to this Festival, Candlemas reminds us of that one true light – our Lord Jesus himself. When you think about it, light is a motif which runs through the Christian year. We think about the light coming into the world in Advent, at Christmas, Epiphany, now on this day, and at Easter when the Paschal candle is brought into the church on Easter Eve. It is right that we keep a special day, though, when we think especially about this, and give thanks for the One who brought the light of God into the darkest places in not just the world at large, but into the darkest corners of our own lives. It is a light of gladness, but it is also a light of searching judgement. And as John says at the beginning of his gospel, ‘the darkness cannot overcome it’.

As we give thanks, then, for the light of Christ, let us also give thanks for all those things which light up our lives, whatever they may be. Give thanks too for your baptism, and as you pass the font, you are invited to dip your finger in the water, and simply touch your forehead with it.

On this day of dedication then, we give thanks for our organ, and all those who have made it what it is in craftsmanship and skill and for the talents of those who play it. We give thanks and praise to God.

LAUS DEO!