Nāḥam: Comfort that Satisfies
“Now there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon, and this man was righteous and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel… and when the parents brought in the child Yeshua to do for him according to the custom of the Law, [Simeon] took him up in his arms and blessed God and said:
‘Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.” (Luke 2:25, 27-32)
Simeon, a presumed elder in Jerusalem, had been waiting patiently (albeit with great anticipation) for what felt like a lifetime.
He longed to look upon the salvation of Adonai and waited “for the consolation of Israel” - and God responded.
(the name Simeon, in fact, means: “God has listened”)
In Greek, the word for consolation is paraklēsis (paralleled, we will see, with the Hebrew term nāḥam), which signifies the presence of comfort and solace, as well as refreshment and a sense of spiritual flourishing. It shares the same root as the word paraklēsis, used to describe the Holy Spirit as “Helper” and “Advocate”.
At essence, Simeon wasn’t so much waiting for something, as he was for someone - The Lord, who is our Comforter. His hope was for the nearness of this Comforter to effectively bring satisfaction and fulfillment - not only to him, but all of creation.
Simeon’s heart burned for the realization of the ancient scrolls of Isaiah when he says:
“For the LORD comforts (nāḥam) Zion; he comforts all her waste places and makes her wilderness like Eden, her desert like the garden of the LORD; joy and gladness will be found in her, thanksgiving and the voice of song.”
To live is to suffer, but to walk with Adonai is to be perennially comforted amidst suffering. It’s a laboring alongside the Man of Sorrows, who again and again renews our spirits as we seek to be embodiments of redemption in the glimpse of time that is our life.
As we witness and participate in this cultivation of comfort - seeing that which has long existed in the wilderness be made like Eden - may we also continuously find ourselves turning towards heaven and saying, “Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace.”
Since the 4th century, the Church has turned this passage of Scripture into what’s called a canticle - or a psalm-like song with biblical lyrics - entitled Nunc Dimittis. It means, “Now you may dismiss me.”
It’s a statement overwhelmed with tranquility at the retrospect of one’s entire life.
Put another way, Simeon is fundamentally saying, “I have done what I was put here to do, and I have experienced what I was meant to encounter. I have been transformed by the peace of God, my spirit is full, and my soul is at rest.”
Or, if I can reduce it even further… it’s an “I could die now” moment.
This is the comfort of the Lord. It not only appeases our distress, but it fills us with the integrating wholeness of shalom. It is where our purpose and desires are satisfied - grateful for a life lived well and deeply aware of the faithfulness of God.
Throughout our various chapters of life (and of course at the end of our lives), we are invited into Nunc Dimittis moments. Whether it be in times of abundant pain or astounding fruitfulness or simple pleasure when gazing upon the face of God… the comfort of God submerges our inmost being in the contentment and calmness of Divinity.
BONUS:
Here’s a wonderful podcast episode by a favorite therapist of mine that explores our unique purpose in God’s Kingdom and Nunc Dimittis moments.
I’ve listened to it 20+ times over the last 5 years (link here)