Last week, my daughter posted a video of our 7-month-old granddaughter opening a present we left for her before we came to Mazatlan this year. I’ve watched it dozens of times. She changes so much each day it seems. Before you know it she’ll be 12 years old like Jesus was in our gospel reading for today. Maybe some of you have grandchildren about that age.
We were all 12 once. What were you like then? I was in 5th grade, I had braces and glasses and was scrawny. My grandmother died that year. 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. In the next chapter he is baptized in the Jordan and then in the following one he 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.
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 was 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 that 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 its 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.
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.
Do you remember the tv show, What Not to Wear? Two stylists, Stacy and Clinton would do a makeover on someone who typically wore ill-fitting, worn-out, or items that were inappropriate for their body or their age. They would help people mature their wardrobes to fit their life. The old clothes that they had from other stages of life were tossed and they adjusted to a new look. Well, this part of Paul’s letter to the Colossians is a sort of What Not To Wear for Christians. He says,
When Christ, who is your life, is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory. Put to death the base things: fornication, impurity, evil desire and greed. …You must get rid of the old ways of anger, wrath, malice, slander, abusive language and lying. STRIP off the old self and clothe yourselves with the new self which is being renewed in knowledge according to the image of its creator. Put on compassion, kindness, humility, meekness and patience. Bear with one another and forgive as God has forgiven you. And above all put on love which pulls it all together.
What if we put a note on our mirrors, or in our clothes closets—put on Christ! Wear compassion and love, kindness and humility, patience and forgiveness! I think it’s a sort of mental discipline that’s called for—when the anger, malice and lies creep into our minds and hearts and actions—we practice a new look—we change those clothes, strip those nasty old things off and put on Christ. It’s not about not-feeling those things—we will. It’s about acting differently. Recognizing a thought or feeling that is not Christ-like for what it is—and choosing to be kind instead.
A few years ago Steve and I adopted a saying by Henri-Frederic Amiel, a Swiss philosopher and poet from the 1800s as our table grace. I think it fits with today’s theme of maturity in Christ. It goes like this: Life is short, and there’s not much time to gladden the hearts of those who travel the way with us. So be quick to love and make haste to be kind. Say it with me:
Life is short and there’s not much time to gladden the hearts of those who travel the way with us. So be quick to love and make haste to be kind. Amen.