Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Growing Pains (1st Sunday after Christmas C, Luke 2:41-52, December 3, 2012)



1st Sunday after Christmas – C
Luke 2:41-52
December 30, 2012
Rev. John M. Caldwell, PhD
1st United Methodist Church
Decorah, IA
Growing Pains
If you’re a parent of a teenager, you’ve been there. If you’re a teenager, you’ve been there.  If you’re a child, you’ve been there.  There’s a little something in this story for everyone.
 If you’re a child, you root for Jesus.  For once, the kid has something to say to his parents for which they have no answer.
 If you’re a teenager, well, you’ve been busted at least once, just like Jesus.  Probably, though, your excuse wasn’t as good as his.
 If you’re a parent, you know what went through the minds (and hearts) of Mary and Joseph.  You know the heart-sick anxiety.  You’ve made the frantic phone calls as it got later and there was still no sign of her.  You imagined the worst, told yourself she was fine, then imagined the worst all over again.
 Then, of course, she waltzed through the door, and anxiety turned instantly to anger—anger for putting you through it, anger for not realizing how dangerous the world is, anger for being fragile and careless.  “I forgot to call.  What’s the big deal?”  And you were speechless.  You tried to come up with words to convey the depth of your love and of your fear and the best you could come up with was, “You’re grounded until you graduate.”
 Mary and Joseph doubtless went through the same thing.  Their words upon finding Jesus, who it must be remembered had been missing for the better part of three days, were, "Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety."  I suspect that our writer has cleaned that up a little.  But maybe you could try that response the next time.
 Of course, I suppose you could ask what kind of parents these were who went a whole day without even noticing that their child was missing.
 In their defense, though, people in those days travelled in caravans whenever they could.  The holy family was no doubt part of a large group of relatives and neighbors from Nazareth.  Jesus was twelve, a man by some measures.  That Joseph and Mary didn’t see him, only meant that they assumed he was somewhere else in their group.
 On realizing that he was not in fact with the caravan, they dashed back to Jerusalem, finding him finally in the Temple complex.  If I had been Joseph I suspect I would have felt a little frustrated.  What kind of a kid is this, anyway?  Kids will do some foolish things—that’s pretty normal, in fact it’s kind of abnormal if they don’t.  But Jesus isn’t mixed up with some girl, or hanging around a tavern.  Instead, he goes to church.
 Karen Chakoian put it well when she wrote, “It would be like taking a kid on a class trip to Washington, D.C. and having him get lost, only to find him chatting with the Supreme Court justices.[1]
 It’s not really what you would expect of a normal adolescent.  But then maybe the text is telling us that Jesus isn’t a normal adolescent. 
 We know that it is possible to tell the Jesus story without any material about his birth or childhood.  Mark and John both did it and quite well.  The stories that we have from Luke and Matthew are, in one sense, not really necessary for the telling of the story.
 When we write a biography nowadays we are interested in a person’s childhood because we believe that childhood experiences shape the adult a person becomes.  For the ancients it was, if anything, the other way around.  They believed that a person’s adulthood identity shaped their childhood experiences.  Luke’s interest in stories about Jesus’ childhood comes from his conviction that in those stories we will see the emerging adult that Jesus became.  If we want to read this story as it was written we will read it as telling us something about who the adult Jesus is.
 And when we do, we see something that maybe we had only guessed at before.  For Jesus allegiance to his family is superseded by his mission.  In its earliest days Christianity was not a religion designed to strengthen families.  Later in the gospel when Jesus was told that his mother and brothers and sisters were there to see him, he replied, “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it.”[2]  In Luke 12 Jesus told of a time when families will be divided against each other,[3] presumably over their allegiance to him.  Luke 14 he laid down as a precondition of discipleship that one “hate” their family members.[4]  Now, we read that word “hate” as an exaggeration, but still, it is clear that, for Jesus, the reign of God holds first place in his heart.  He expects the same of his disciples.
 It is strange is that anyone would think that the Christian message with its radical demands would strengthen families.  It certainly didn’t have that reputation in the early centuries of our movement.  Time and again we read of young women, especially, who faced their parents who tried to talk them out of following Christ.  One of the most common arguments was that, by giving their allegiance to Christ, they had robbed their families of the reverence that was due to them.  That is why early Christians were known as enemies of piety—they refused to respect their families.
 When Jesus’ parents found him in the Temple complex deep in conversation with the rabbis and expressed their anxiety, he calmly replied, “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?”  Some translations have “about my Father’s business.”  The Greek is not specific. There is no noun.  It simply says, “in the…of my Father.”  Anyway the point is, Jesus has a calling toward God, but it has little to do with his family, and certainly not with the man he calls Father.
 Jesus says, “Did you not know that I must be engaged with my Father’s agenda?” and we hear in it a hint of Jesus’ future unswerving allegiance to the reign of God.  That hasn’t emerged fully just yet.  We’re seeing Jesus’ first steps toward that end.We’re seeing Jesus’ determination to find out what God wants him to do.  Jesus knows it’s something, but what? 
 If Jesus had to struggle to find his path, how much more do we?  We have to struggle to find our path as Jesus’ disciples.  We have to struggle to find our path as a congregation.  None of that is going to be handed to us.  It isn’t going to come from the Annual Conference center.  It isn’t going to come from the bishop.  It isn’t even going to come from me, as if I were to disappear on retreat for a few days, talk to God, and come back with “the plan.” 
Like Jesus we’ll need to be in conversation with our tradition.  Like Jesus we’ll need to pay attention to the world around us.  Like Jesus we’ll need to be about the things of our God.  As it was for Jesus the process and result may both be disruptive.  They may not please the bishop or the district superintendent.  They may not even please me.  But we’re not the ones that this congregation or its members need to answer to.

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[1] Karen Chakoian, "Between Text and Sermon: Luke 2:41-42," Interpretation 52, 02 (April 1998), 189
[2] Luke 8:21.
[3] Luke 12:52-53.
[4] Luke 14:26.

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