Seeing Jesus
I want to begin this week with an apology. I hope that doesn’t result in some of you saying, “It’s about time!” I’m not saying that is not warranted; I always have things for which to apologize. But my apology today is for moving us beyond the Christmas story. You see, I’m a Gen Xer, and my generation is known for a few different things, including its irreverence, its slackerliness, and its tendency to hold childhood memories in high regard. And when you extend that to childhood memories of Christmas . . . well, you might say we treasure those memories in our hearts. We like our Baby Jesus. We might not go so far as to pray to him, like Ricky Bobby, but he obviously plays a critical role in our respective holiday stories, alongside A Charlie Brown Christmas and opening Atari games on Christmas morning. For me, it was always a bummer to go to church while the tree was still up and hear a scripture that did not include a manger or shepherds or angels.
So I’m apologizing for being the guy who has to pull our attention away from Baby Jesus this Christmas season. And unfortunately, our scripture today does not include any cute Toddler Jesus stories — no, we’re jumping right to adolescence, an awkward time for everyone (present company definitely included).
Aside from this story of Jesus in the temple, the gospels don’t tell us much about Jesus from the time he was a baby to when he began his ministry at age 30. This is the only story about a young Jesus, in this case twelve years old. In our culture, that would put him in middle school, but keep in mind Mary was probably not much older than that when she became a mother, so Jesus was also on the cusp of becoming an adult.
Now think about your life and recall some of your memories from before you turned 30. There are probably a lot of important events from that time! (For those of you who are not yet 30, think back on your life so far. Also, congratulations on your ability to read small print.) Some of your memories might involve family or the home in which you grew up. Maybe you’re thinking of friends or other relationships. Maybe you’re thinking of successes or shortcomings in school or on the athletic field or on the stage. You might be thinking of adventures or tragedies or joys or revelations. Lives are big, and yours is no exception.
I like to imagine what life was like for Jesus in those years before his ministry began. What games did he play with his friends? What chores did he do in the house or his stepfather’s workshop? Did Joseph ever have to remind him to measure twice and then cut? Did Jesus ever take the donkey out for a joy ride? Did he follow politics, associating with the People’s Front of Judea or the Judean People’s Front?
It’s understandable that some in the first centuries of Christianity who did not know Jesus tried to fill in some of the gaps. It’s not hard to locate gospels about the early life of Jesus, such as the Infancy Gospel of Thomas, which was written in the century following the death of the apostle by that name. I used to think looking at such writings, which are sometimes referred to as apocryphal, was dangerous or somehow wrong. More recently, I’ve realized that there are things to be learned from those writings. Reading them will not cause anything to catch fire, nor make Baby Jesus cry. The takeaways aren’t necessarily what the writers wanted us to accept as truth, such as that on one occasion a five-year-old Jesus created twelve sparrows out of mud. But the writings do provide insight into life and thinking at that time. For instance, Joseph’s carpentry probably included making plows and yokes.
The writers of the apocryphal books wanted to help people see Jesus better, but they were not equipped to do that and had agendas that strayed beyond that goal. Thankfully, the Biblical gospel writers had more direct contact with Jesus and his apostles (or were his apostles), and thus we have some things to learn from today’s scripture.
Every Passover, Jesus and his family made the trip from Nazareth to Jerusalem, a distance of over 60 miles that took at least four days. They traveled in a group with friends and relatives, which was the custom at that time. Jesus came from a devout Jewish family, and Luke makes that clear in the first couple chapters of his gospel, with the annual trip to Jerusalem being one example.
Mary and Joseph were around fifteen miles from Jerusalem when they realized Jesus was not with them. Perhaps he had walked with a cousin or friend on the way down, and they assumed he was returning in the same manner. Maybe they were distracted by Jesus’ younger siblings — “James! Stop giving Jude a hard time about his lack of good works!” Whatever the reason, they traveled all the way back to Jerusalem and spent days looking for Jesus before finding him in the temple.
There he was, “sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions,” which was how Jewish teachers and learners engaged with scripture. Jesus amazed those who were listening.
His mother was not amazed, citing the anxiety he caused them by disappearing. “Why have you treated us like this?” she asks. Jesus, beginning a pattern with which we become familiar during his ministry, answers her question with a question. “Why were you searching for me?” And then he asks another, which might have stung a bit: “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?
Nonetheless, we’re reassured a couple verses later that Jesus returned to Nazareth with his parents and was obedient to them. And Mary “treasured all these things in her heart.”
I’ve always liked that line about how Mary treasured things in her heart. There’s a similar phrase earlier in Luke 2. Following the birth of Jesus, when Mary and Joseph were visited by the shepherds and they told their story about encountering an angel who brought them “good news of great joy,” it says that “Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.”
A few moments ago, I asked you to recall some memories from your life. Do you treasure any of those? I suspect that at least for some of you, the memories that came to your mind were precious. Some might be sad, some warm, and others regretful.
I think I have a good grasp on this treasuring concept, especially as a parent. Some memories involving my daughter are so close to my heart that I can’t share them without choking up (which is why they’re absent from today’s reflection). If I am ever afflicted with one of the cruel diseases that eats away at memories, I hope they are the last ones to go.
These stories and memories are often attached to important events that help us see our children, to learn who they are and who they will become.
I say this as a father. I hesitate to generalize, but in my experience, mothers seem to have even more treasuring power than do fathers.
Now imagine the treasuring power of Mary, the favored one chosen by God to give birth to the savior of the world. Not only was she entrusted to be the mother of Jesus; it is likely that she was the one who shared today’s story — the last that mentions Joseph — as well as the accounts of Jesus’ birth. We don’t know of another eyewitness who could have served as a source for the gospel writers.
There is pain in this story for Mary, but she chose to include the good and the uncomfortable. If I may, I’d suggest it’s one of her treasured stories, one that helped her see her son, to know who he was and who he would become. A student of scripture, a questioner of teachers, hard to predict, sometimes harsh. And the Son of God.
What helps us to see Jesus? The pivotal character in the history of the world is complex, and there’s always more to learn. We have the scriptures to teach us, and they have yet to stop speaking. We have our time in prayer and worship. We have God’s word written on our hearts, as we read in Jeremiah. You might encounter Jesus in other ways, perhaps through experiencing God’s creation, perhaps in discussion with friends. Maybe you read a book at some point that opened your eyes.
Who helps us to see Jesus? Pastors, teachers, and other Jesus followers come to mind. But scripture points us to others as well. In Matthew 25, we learn that when we see the hungry and feed them, when we see the thirsty and give them a drink, when we see the homeless and give them a place to stay, when we see the shivering and give them clothes, when we see the sick and imprisoned and visit them . . . we see Jesus. We learn about Jesus from them, because Jesus chose to live as one who was sometimes hungry, thirsty, homeless, or imprisoned.
We don’t always want to see our sisters and brothers, whether or not in a given moment we remember that they were created in the image of God. We might consider them threatening or dirty or disagreeable. That desire to avoid seeing might even extend to Jesus sometimes. Jesus asks challenging questions, and asks us to do hard things in a society that idolizes comfort and convenience.
Seeing is hard work. I might hear a radio story about the food shortage in Somalia and shake my head in recognition of that suffering, but shortly thereafter I’ll probably be back to what I was doing before. Usually I don’t take the time to see the enormity of the situation. But when I hear details from someone living through that suffering, perhaps from a mother who has lost a child . . . then I need to take a moment. Such lives — those stories that are treasured in hearts throughout that region — end by the hundreds every day, resulting in an unfathomable amount of grief.
Seeing is hard work, but it’s critical. We know how important it is to be seen at a personal level, but it’s also how we pursue justice. If we don’t see the victims of violence, homelessness, white supremacy, an ineffective penal system, and climate change, we’re less likely to address those issues.
Despite these challenges, I hope we’ve entered 2023 with our eyes wide open. Thanks be to God that we have a savior who sees us, so well in fact that each of the hairs on our heads is numbered. Thanks be to God that we have a savior who reveals himself to us in a variety of ways, equipping us to continue his mission on earth. Thanks be to God for the new year before us, a year full of the opportunities that present themselves to those who see Jesus.
Amen.
Works Referenced
Burke, Tony. “The Childhood of the Saviour (Infancy Gospel of Thomas): A New Translation.” Accessed December 29, 2020. https://www.tonyburke.ca/infancy-gospel-of-thomas/the-childhood-of-the-saviour-infancy-gospel-of-thomas-a-new-translation/.
Carey, Greg. Luke: An Introduction and Study Guide. All Flesh Shall See God’s Salvation. New York: Bloomsbury, 2017.
Culpepper, R. Alan. “Luke,” in New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume VIII. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2015.
Jamieson, Robert, AR Fausset and David Brown. Commentary Critical and Explanatory on the Whole Bible. Public Domain, 1871.
Powell, Mark Allan. Introducing the New Testament: A Historical, Literary, and Theological Survey. Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Academic, 2018.
Smith, Mitzi J. & Yung Suk Kim. Toward Decentering the New Testament: A Reintroduction. Eugene, Oregon: Cascade Books, 2018.
