Dec 29, 2018; 1 Christmas C; ICCM; Pastor Rebecca Ellenson; Growing Up;
Do you remember being twelve years old? I was in 6th grade, I had braces and glasses and was physically quite small. My grandmother had died the year before and I was asking all kinds of questions about faith and life, death and meaning. Twelve is an in-between time. Cognitively most 12-year-olds can do some abstract thinking and are beginning to separate from their families in terms of identity. At that age we are engaged in the important work of growing up.
When Jesus was 12, he and his parent went to Jerusalem as they did each year for the festival of the Passover. It’s strange to think about Jesus as an adolescent. Luke is the only gospel writer to give us any information about that stage of Jesus’ life. Like pencil marks on the door frame Luke measures Jesus’ life by ritual scenes. Earlier in this chapter Jesus was dedicated in the temple. Later he is baptized in the Jordan and then faces temptations in the wilderness. We learn how Jesus was shaped by his parents and by the rhythms and rituals of Jewish life. It was about the time for his bar-mitzva. The words mean the “son of the law”. It was a coming of age rite where adults would no longer speak for him. He spoke for himself there in the temple and the others listened.
We get a fully human portrayal of Jesus in this gospel as he grows into who he will become. I hope we can refrain from reading back into these early stories the doctrinal formulations many of us know by heart, you know, “Of one being with the Father, through whom all things were made… true God from true God…”
Even after his baptism though, Jesus had to live into what it meant to be God’s son. In the wilderness he was tempted with his identity. “If you are the Son of God turn these stones into bread…” Jesus didn’t rely on some kind of super human power there in the desert. He depended on the sustaining power and presence of God and God’s word.
From the cross he heard those same challenges thrown at him by the crowd. “He saved others, let him save himself is he is the Messiah.” Nailed to the cross, we see Jesus reaching inward to the words he learned as a child, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” And we hear an echo of today’s text, “Do you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” The Word of God dwelt in him richly, at every step, from the time he was 12 until the day he died.
In our text today we see Jesus growing up, establishing his identity. That task involves creating relationships, setting priorities, making decisions. It’s a process we all engage in. We choose values and beliefs that structure our lives. Along the way we make mistakes, get lost, backtrack, and sometimes just need to start over. Ultimately, growing up means moving out and finding a new home. This may be a geographical move, but most certainly it involves psychological and spiritual moves.
It is no surprise that Mary would be in a panic when she discovers that Jesus is not with the group of travelers. With great anxiety she and Joseph search for him. Three days later the one who was lost has been found. Mary’s first words are, “Child, why have you treated us like this?” What I really hear is, “Where have you been young man? Your father and I did not survive angel visits, birth in a manger, and living like refugees in Egypt only to have you get lost in Jerusalem.” But Jesus isn’t the one who is lost. He knows who he is and where he belongs. Mary and Joseph are the ones who are learning the most. This gospel may be about growing up but not just about Jesus’ growing up. It is about Mary and Joseph and you and me growing up too.
On some level Jesus is the one who pushes Mary and Joseph to grow. Children have a way of doing that to their parents. They challenge us to look at our world, our lives, and ourselves in new, different, and sometimes painful ways. That is exactly what Jesus’ question to Mary does. She had put herself and Joseph at the center of Jesus’ world. His question was about to undo that.
“Why were you searching for me?” he asks. “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” Jesus has put the Father at the center of his world and asks Mary and us to do the same, to move to the Father’s home.
Authentic growth almost always involves letting go and stepping forward into something new. Carl Jung said we live our lives in too small shoes. We resist the change required by growth. How true. Part of Mary’s pondering in her heart must have been about letting go of her “boy Jesus” image. Jesus was born of Mary but his identity becomes so much more. He is with her but does not belong to her. She can give him love but not her thoughts or ways. He is growing into his own soul’s purpose.
This movement of Jesus is not a rejection of his earthly parents but a re-prioritizing of relationships. It is what he would ask of Simon and Andrew, James and John. “Follow me” would be the invitation for them to leave their homes, their nets, their fathers and move to a different place, live a different life, see with different eyes. It is today what he asks of you and me.
Given the demographics of this congregation it’s safe to say on one level we’re all grown up. But on another level, we’re never really done moving into deeper and more authentic relationships with God, our world, each other, and ourselves. We move through stages all our lives, from one pair of small shoes into the next size, from one level of awareness to the next.
Maybe you’ve heard the joke about the Rabbi, the Priest and the Lutheran Minister debating when life begins. That’s easy says the priest, life begins at conception. No, life begins when the baby takes it’s first breath and starts to cry says the minister. Oh, you’ve got it wrong says the Rabbi, Life begins when the last child moves out and the cat dies. Certainly there is some truth to that joke. Life begins again and again offering opportunities for joy and sorrow, for growth and learning as we go along. One of the early church fathers, Irenaeus, described this truth when he said The Glory of God is a fully alive human being.
I read
a story this week about a grandmother told by her granddaughter. At the time of her grandfather’s death,
at 90 years of age, her grandparents had been married for over 60 years. Grandma
felt the loss deeply and retreated from the world, entering into a deep
time of mourning for nearly five years.
One day the granddaughter visited, expecting to find Grandma in her usual withdrawn
state. Instead, she found her sitting in her wheelchair beaming. When the
granddaughter didn’t comment quickly enough about the obvious change, Grandma
asked her “Don’t you want to know why I’m so happy? Aren’t you even
curious?”
She explained her new understanding: “Last night figured out why I’ve been left to live without my husband. Your grandfather knew that the secret of life is love, and he lived it every day. I have known about unconditional love, but I haven’t fully lived it. … All this time I thought I was being punished for something, but last night I realized that I have a chance to turn my life into love, too.” Although age inevitably continued on its course, her life was renewed. She became a force for reconciliation and good relationships in her family. In the last days of her life, the granddaughter visited her grandma in the hospital often. As she walked toward her room one day, the nurse on duty looked into her eyes and said, “Your grandmother is a very special lady, you know…she’s a light.” Yes, love and joy lit up her life and she became a light for others until the end.
Our text from Colossians today describes the growth pattern set before us. It involves letting go of what is safe and familiar, a necessary process if we are to grow in the love and likeness of Christ. It means letting go of an identity that is limited to our biological family, job, community reputation, ethnic group, or political party and trusting that who we are is who we are in God. It means that we stop relating to one another by comparison, competition, and judgment and begin relating through love, self-surrender, and vulnerability. It means that we let go of fear about the future and discover that God is here in the present and that all shall be well. We stop ruminating on past guilt, regrets, and sins and accept the mercy and forgiveness of God and each other. We see our life not in opposition to others but as intimately related to and dependent upon others.
Our Colossians text puts it out there for us. We are to put on Christ, to let the word of Christ dwell in us richly, and to live in the name of our Lord Jesus. Amen.