Presentation of Jesus, Purification of Mary, and. . . .Coming Out

Today’s reflection is from Jason Steidl Jack, a gay Catholic theologian and Assistant Teaching Professor of Religious Studies at St. Joseph’s University in New York. He is the author of  LGBTQ Catholic Ministry: Past and Present, published by Paulist Press.

Today’s liturgical readings for the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord can be found here.

Today the Church marks the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord, also known as the Feast of the Purification of Mary. The holiday stems from Luke 2:22-40, which recounts Mary’s appearance with the infant Jesus in the temple to fulfill two religious obligations: first, scripture required Hebrew families to offer their firstborn males as a symbolic sacrifice to God; and second, women who had given birth were expected to go through a priest to restore their ritual purity. So, what does the holiday have to do with queer folks?

At first glance, celebrating Mary’s purification seems misogynistic. According to Hebrew tradition, a new mother was deemed ceremonially unclean, “as at the time of her menstruation” (Lev. 12:2), for the first seven days after the birth of a boy, or for 14 days after the birth of a girl. During this time, any object or person she touched would also become ceremonially unclean. These rules meant that young mothers could be physically separated from their husbands and some of the furniture in their home. For an additional 33 days after a boy’s birth (66 days in the case of girl child) the new mother had to wait to “be clean from her flow of blood.” During this time, Leviticus insisted, “she shall not touch any holy thing or come into the sanctuary until the days of her purification are completed.” (Lev. 12:4)

Today, many might see these rules as a part of an ancient patriarchy that objectified and shamed women’s bodies, especially during menstruation or immediately after childbirth. Indeed, Levitical law kept young mothers out of holy spaces, but it also restricted their access to religious power and authority. After weeks of waiting, a young mother had to present herself to a male priest, who sacrificed an animal on her behalf to “make atonement” and restore her ritual purity. Intended or not, the Torah limited women’s access to the holy far more than men’s.

Feminist Jewish scholars, however, note that the Hebrew tradition signifies much more than exclusion and domination. In the ancient Hebrew world, ritual impurity for men and women resulted from contact with death or the “loss of potential life,” because only the living can praise God, as Psalm 115 observes. Rabbi Lauren Eichler Berkun explains that giving birth in the ancient world, as today, imperiled the lives of both mothers and children. Even when it went well, birth was always “an encounter with potential death” and therefore demanded a time of separation from ritual religious life. In this light, Mary’s purification would have been a cause for celebration, a way of welcoming back into the land of the living those who had come close to touching death. Purification was, in a way, the affirmation of the mother’s and child’s new relational orientation to everyone around them.

Queer folks experience something analogous to the precarity of giving birth. Like pregnancy, accepting who we are can be a fraught process that demands time and attention. Coming out, like birth, is often messy and full of danger, perceived and/or real. It can feel like every aspect of our spiritual and relational life is being torn apart. Coming out at the wrong time or to the wrong person might threaten the relationships with family, friends, and church that sustained us in the past. For some, coming out may feel like a type of death as the dream of a “normal,” cishet* life dies. If we survive, it is as a different person, and little may remain of the way we were before.

But coming out, like giving birth, also has its rewards—a new way of being and relating to others. For the queer person— like Jesus and Mary in the story of the Presentation— coming out ends isolation and shame with the joyful acknowledgment of God’s good work in our sexuality and being. Coming out opens us up to seeing and embracing the salvation that God brings to transform our world for the better.

The Gospel authors relate this celebratory spirit in the second half of the story. Imagine the joy of Simeon who, waiting a lifetime to receive God’s chosen one, took the child Jesus in his arms and proclaimed, “Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word, for my eyes have seen 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.” (v. 29-32) The prophet’s irrational hope gave way to the experience of divine joy. The world’s darkness was suddenly illuminated by the child who brought light.

Luke also introduces Hannah, an elderly widow who had been living and praying in the temple for decades. When she finally met Christ, her delight was palpable to everyone around her and she “began to praise God and to speak about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem.” (v. 38) Together, Simeon and Hannah announced the end of the danger and isolation that Mary and Jesus faced in childbirth and heralded a new beginning for the holy family.

The Presentation and Purification, of course, do not mean that Mary’s and Jesus’ troubles were over. Indeed, Simeon warned, a sword would pierce Mary’s soul, as Jesus was “destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel and to be a sign that will be opposed.” (v. 34-35) So too for those who walk the difficult road of being queer in this world. Our hearts, like Mary’s, will be pierced many times, whether for our own sorrows or the sorrows of others. Our lives and loves– our very being, may stand in stark contradiction to what the world expects of us.

On the Feast of the Presentation, we can rejoice that pain and shame give way to light and life. Separation from community and closeness to death may persist for a season, but God, working through his son, Jesus Christ, and the witness of Mary, welcomes us back to the abundance of life and full affirmation of our humanity.

—Jason Steidl Jack, February 2, 2025

* cishet: a common contraction for “cisgender and heterosexual”