First Sunday after Christmas December 27, 2009 "Wisdom and Stature" Reverend Michael D. Powell Luke 2:41-52

We gather this morning between Christmas and the New Year. The Christmas trees will soon be removed, but there are other symbols that mark the transition between the old and the New Year. The old year is represented as a bearded elder, and the symbol of the New Year is an infant. This morning’s story of the boy Jesus among the elders addresses the need to be rooted in the old, as well as the challenge of growing and changing and making way for the new.

I love real Christmas trees, but they have a way of drying out after a month. I've heard that you can make them last longer by putting Gatorade or sugar in the water, or even aspirin, but they always die in the end, because they've been cut off from their roots. Hmmm! I suspect there's also a message in that about the true meaning of Christmas! After the birth comes life, and in order to grow in Christ we must be rooted in God.

The Bible is kind of a magical mystery tour through chronological time. Here it is, December 27^th, just two days after the birth of the Christ child, and in this morning’s scripture Jesus is already 12 years old. And then we lose track of him again until he’s a mature, 30 year old man about to be baptized. There are many legends and traditions about what happened to the lost years of Jesus, but really, nobody knows where he was or what he was doing.

Most scholars agree that, heartfelt and touching as it is, this morning’s story is probably less the stuff of history than of legend. Twelve years old, and the boy Jesus is lost! Lost to his parents that is. With a supernatural measure of wisdom and stature, the boy Jesus knows exactly where he is and what he’s doing! But his parents are like any of us would be, alarmed and anxious. If you’ve ever lost a child, even for a few minutes, you know the panic that can set it.

But in this morning’s story he’s lost for three whole days. They discover he’s missing after they’re a day out on the trail, and spend two more days back tracking and hunting. Finally, they find him sitting among the elders in the temple, asking questions and generally amazing them with his youthful understanding.

For some folks this story may be painful and even scary to read. It may bring up abandonment issues if you’ve experienced that kind of trauma. How could Mary and Joseph have left Jesus behind? What kind of parents were they, anyway? Well, one answer is that they were devout and observant Jews, traveling to Jerusalem to observe the Feast of the Passover. This was the touchstone of their religious tradition. Observant Jews defined their identity according to the events commemorated during the feast of the Passover. It was an old, old story about how the People of God were delivered out of slavery, led through the wilderness and into the Promised Land. People who oriented their lives according to this ancient story gathered to remember it in Jerusalem because it was a sacred responsibility, the touchstone of their religious belief.

But still, how could they have left their son behind? The text tells us that they'd left Jerusalem and that at the end of a day's journey they looked for him among their kinsfolk and acquaintances. When they didn't find him they returned immediately. It took another day to retrace their steps and on the third day they found him in the temple. Caravans were typically headed up by men, with animals and implements in the middle in the care of responsible youth, and women and children bringing up the rear. Jesus was twelve years old, a notoriously slippery age. Everybody simply thought he was with someone else. In the Jewish tradition a boy is Bar Mitzvahed at the age of thirteen, becoming a "Son of the Commandment,” accountable and responsible under the Mosaic Law. This is a story of Jesus "going to school,” so to speak, on the old, old story of his faith tradition. He's coming of age, and there's a growing realization of who he is and the call of God upon his life. It's a story of life and growth, of transition and conflicting loyalties between the old teachings and his new understanding of the truth.

There's a famous oil painting entitled "Christ Teaching in the Temple.” It shows Jesus lecturing to the elders, but that isn't what the scripture says. Luke tells us that Jesus was "listening and asking questions ...and that they were “amazed at his understanding and his answers. " This is the only Biblical account we have of the boyhood of Jesus. There are many non-Biblical legends depicting him as a miracle-working boy wonder who brought dead birds back to life and healed the bruised knees of his playmates, but all the Bible indicates is that by the age of twelve Jesus had a strong spiritual inclination that drew him to the temple and the teachings of the elders like a moth to a flame. According to this story, he was full of spiritual questions and amazed his elders with the depth of his probing.

Joseph and Mary thought that Jesus was lost, and that they found him. But I want to ask a question. Could it be that it's we who are lost and Jesus who is finding us! Is there a sense in which Jesus, even as a boy, is already our teacher? His youthful quest for truth unsettles us and makes us anxious, but doesn't he become our teacher by the very questions he asks?

Obviously, losing track of Jesus upset Joseph and Mary. But don't you find it hard to keep track of Jesus too? Most grownups are like the parents of Jesus. In the eyes of our kids, we're pretty "old school.” We have habits and traditions that keep us grounded and give us a sense of security and identity. They're truth for us, part of our religion. But kids are notoriously hard on our sense of well-being. They're always asking "why?” and challenging the truth of our settled assumptions. They question authority, stretch boundaries, push the edges of the envelope, and break the rules. It pushes our buttons and makes us anxious, but it's natural for them. They're just doing what God created them to do, and there's a religious dimension to it. They're searching for truth. They're growing and changing, discovering old truths in new and personal ways. But it can drive grownups crazy.

The truth is that our religious traditions are supposed to provoke us to deeper passion, fresh insights and greater responsibility, but the criticism of youth is nearly always that old, traditional ways have dulled the sharp edge of truth and lulled their elders into boredom and complacency, like so many dried up Christmas trees that are no longer rooted and grounded in the living and changing, spontaneous experience of God.

What do we have to learn from the boy Jesus? This morning, on the Sunday after Christmas, as we stand on the cusp of a New Year, we remember the story of the young Jesus, who had a passion for Truth, a hunger and a thirst for the direct experience of God. Already he is growing in wisdom and in stature. Already he is provoking us to New Life, to grow and to change.

May we "treasure these things in our hearts." May Christ continue to be born, and may the God of peace bless us as we grow into a New Year. Amen.