Scripture Intro - Luke 2:41-52
A few days ago, on Christmas Eve, we heard stories about
Jesus’ birth.
Next Sunday we will celebrate the Epiphany and the arrival
of the Wise Men from the east. Yet on this first Sunday after Christmas, the
lectionary gives us a story about Jesus as a twelve-year-old adolescent.
Boy, are those wise men in for a surprise.
Luke is the only gospel writer to include a story about
Jesus’ childhood.
He uses it as way of transitioning between his long
narrative about Jesus’ birth and the story which marks the beginning of Jesus’
ministry as an adult – Jesus’ baptism by John the Baptist. Luke included this
story of Jesus at the age of 12 possibly because he knew his readers would be
curious to know what happened in Jesus life in between these two monumental
events. Perhaps Luke wished to show us that Jesus, like all of us, experienced
a transitional stage in his life; that he didn’t just wake up one day as a
fully formed agent of God. That he
too, needed time to grow into the person that God had called him to be.
Here is the story from the Gospel of Luke. Listen now for the
Word of God:
Now every year
his parents went to Jerusalem for the festival of the Passover.
And when he
was twelve years old, they went up as usual for the festival.
When the
festival was ended and they started to return, the boy Jesus stayed behind in
Jerusalem, but his parents did not know it. Assuming that he was in the group
of travelers, they went a day’s journey. Then they started to look for him
among their relatives and friends. When they did not find him, they returned to
Jerusalem to search for him.
After three
days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to
them and asking them questions. And all who heard him were amazed at his
understanding and his answers.
When his
parents saw him they were astonished; and his mother said to him, “Child, why
have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for
you in great anxiety.”
He said to
them, “Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my
Father’s house?” But they did not understand what he said to them.
Then he went
down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them. His mother
treasured all these things in her heart. And Jesus increased in wisdom and in
years, and in divine and human favor.
Rev. Maureen R. Frescott
Congregational Church of
Amherst, UCC
December 27, 2015 – First
Sunday of Christmas
Luke 2:41-52
“They Grow So
Fast”
In
many Christian traditions, including the Catholic tradition in which I was
raised, the first Sunday after Christmas is known as the Feast of the Holy
Family.
This
is the day where Mary, Joseph, and their brand new baby, Jesus, are lifted up
and celebrated as the model human family – coming together to live a loving and
faithful life before God.
We
have Mary, who despite being young and poor and unmarried showed incredible
courage and said “Yes” to giving birth to the son of God.
We
have Joseph, who did the righteous and honorable thing by marrying Mary instead
of shunning her, and protecting and caring for her all the way to Bethlehem.
And
we have Jesus, the Holy Child, the son of God, who was born perfect and sinless
and destined to save the world.
That’s
a model family that we all can aspire to emulate, isn’t it?
Easy
peasy.
The
reality is, despite our best efforts and our desire to have the perfect family, we all can’t help but fall way short of
the mark.
And
the one time of year that those shortcomings can become most evident is when
families come together to celebrate Christmas.
On
Christmas Eve we may put on our Sunday best and head off to church with visions
of our family gathering around the Christmas ham the next day, opening presents
and sharing laughter and joy.
But
outside of Hallmark cards and holiday movies, there aren’t many family
Christmases that end up that way.
Inevitably,
something or someone fails to live up to the ideal that we carry in our heads.
A
gift fails to arrive in time, the Christmas ham comes out too salty or too dry,
and the kids (and adults) are over tired, over excited, over fed, and prone to
meltdowns.
I
remember my own mother trying so hard to make Christmas live up to everyone's expectations.
This
is even more difficult to do when you have ten children.
But
every year, she’d cart us all off to midnight Mass, and
listen to us gripe about itchy dresses and choking neck ties.
She
put up with 4-year-olds who got up way too early on Christmas morning, and
14-year-olds who refused to get up before noon.
She
endured the inevitable fights over who got bigger or better presents and the
tears that flowed when the one thing someone had asked for or HAD to have was
not under the tree.
And
every year, we’d sit down at the table to a Christmas dinner that my mom had
spent days planning for and preparing…..and half way through the meal she’d
scream, jump up, run to the kitchen and return with a plate of smoking dinner
rolls that had been burned as black as hockey pucks.
Every
year.
The
Holy Family is held up as the ideal
family – for good reason.
Not
for their holiness, but for their humanness.
Because
despite our tendency to depict Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus wearing halos above
their heads – in icons, stained glass windows, and in the image we have of them
in our minds – in many ways they were human just like us.
The
gospel reading we heard today is evidence of that.
According
to Luke’s gospel, Mary and Joseph were on their way home after the Passover
celebration and they had traveled a full day away from Jerusalem before they
realized 12-year-old Jesus was no longer with them.
For
a Passover pilgrimage, this was not unusual.
They
were likely traveling in a large group of family and friends, with the woman
walking separately from the men.
Mary
probably assumed that Joseph had Jesus, and Joseph probably assumed that he was
with Mary.
It
was only when they came together at some point - perhaps at a town along the
way - that they realized that no one had seen Jesus since they left Jerusalem.
We
can imagine what that walk back to Jerusalem must have been like for these
frantic parents.
It
was a full day’s journey, and as much as we like to revere the holy family as
being saint like and beyond reproach, there was undoubtedly some anger and
blame being tossed around on that walk,
as each
passing hour mother and father alike grew even more worried and fearful of what
could happen to a 12-year-old boy left to fend for himself in a big city like
Jerusalem.
Luke
tells us that Mary and Joseph searched for Jesus with “great anxiety,” for
three days, before they finally found him.
And
they found him in the safest place that he could be.
Sitting
in the Temple amongst the rabbis and teachers, listening to them speak and
asking them questions, as any 12-year-old boy preparing for his Bar Mitzvah
might do.
When
Mary caught sight of her son she didn’t glide up to him with her halo aglow and
bless him for taking his first steps towards fulfilling his destiny as the
Messiah.
Instead
she did what any mother would do after searching for her lost son for three
days.
She yelled at him.
Especially
after she found him safe and sound and seemingly oblivious to all the trouble
and worry that he had caused.
“How
could you worry us like this?” she said.
“Your
father and I have been searching for you with great anxiety…how could you treat
us with such disrespect?”
Jesus
responded with wisdom beyond his years….or with sarcasm, depending on how you
read it.
He
said, “Why were you searching for me?
Did
you not know that I would be in my father’s house?”
In
other words, why didn’t his parents just assume that he would be in the Temple
– in God’s house?
Had
they forgotten who their son was?
Had
they forgotten about the angels who announced his birth singing Glory to God in
the Highest?
Well,
apparently they had.
Here
Mary and Joseph behave not like the parents of God incarnate, but instead like
any parent with a lost child might behave.
They
fear for his safety, they have no idea where he could have gone, and they don’t
trust that he has the power or the ability to look after himself.
But
even if Mary and Joseph did remember the fanfare that surrounded their son’s
birth, perhaps to them he was all too human in every other way.
Maybe
Jesus grew up as any child did, with skinned knees and a fear of monsters under
the bed.
Maybe
he slammed doors and threw temper tantrums over meaningless things as children
are prone to do.
My
sister-in-law has seven children under the age of 12.
Earlier
this week she wrote on Facebook: "Child number 5 is throwing a tantrum this
morning. Because it’s Tuesday and she doesn’t like Tuesdays."
Another
friend posted a picture of her toddler crying and lying spread eagle on the
floor. She commented, “He ate an entire package of mini muffins and then got
upset because someone had eaten all the mini muffins.”
The
truth is we don’t know what Jesus was like as a child.
And
we don’t know what Mary and Joseph were like as parents apart from this one story
when Jesus was 12 and a few others that took place just after he was born.
But
it’s likely that this Holy Family – this human family - was far from perfect.
Especially when placed in the context of their larger family.
Like
many of us Jesus had uncles and aunts, and cousins and siblings.
I’m
sure none of them was perfect either…especially when they gathered together at
the holidays.
Likely
some had a tendency to drink too much or complain too much.
Some
were too judgmental or held others to unreasonably high expectations.
Some
were always poking their nose where it didn’t belong or creating drama out of
thin air.
Some
likely hadn’t spoken to each other in years because of some past argument,
insult, or slight.
Sound
like any family you might know?
Forget
the “Hallmark Card” scene that others strive to recreate,
for
some, the Christmas season is approached with feelings of dread,
because
of all the emotions that get stirred up when families come together.
And
for those who are estranged from their family, or never knew their family, or
have outlived their family, celebrating a holiday that is culturally awash in images
of family – right down to the Holy Family at the manger – is difficult indeed.
But
maybe that’s the point.
Mary
and Joseph were far from home – and far from their family - on that cold
winter’s night in Bethlehem.
All
they had was each other….and God.
And
on that long journey back to Jerusalem, as they argued and fretted over the
safety of their missing son, again, all they had was each other….and God.
But
in both instances they had much more than that.
In
Bethlehem they had shepherds and wise men and a generous stable owner.
And
in Jerusalem they had rabbis and teachers and Temple members who kept their son
safe and engaged until they arrived.
Regardless
of connection by blood or by name, family can be whoever stands by us, comforts
us, or comes to our aid when we’re in need.
Our
work family, our church family, the friends we’ve had since school, and the
people in the community we live in – can sometimes be nearer and dearer to us
than our own flesh and blood.
The
Holy Family is a model for the human
family.
Not
the perfect family, but the real family – with all its flaws, scars, and
tribulations.
The
Holy Family is also something to be revered in its uniqueness, and held up as
something we were never meant to be.
There
is only one Mary and one Joseph – one mother and father who nurtured and cared
for the incarnate God.
And
there is only one Jesus – one prophet, teacher, messiah, who dedicated his
life, and gave his life, to the belief that this world is God’s world, and that
God’s love, flowing through us, is the solution to every affliction we face.
The
Holy Family is a human family,
and
in many ways their story is our story,
but
their story is also worthy of setting up on a pedestal on this First Sunday
after Christmas.
After
all, it’s not every day that God is born into the world as one of us.
And
just knowing that God knows what it’s like to enjoy and endure being a part of a family, should ease our concern that our
family is not the perfect family.
Even
Jesus got annoyed with his parents, and they got annoyed with him.
But
the love they felt for one another was steadfast and unconditional.
As
is God’s love for us.
Thanks
be to God.
Amen.
