No Longer a Baby
based on Luke 2:41-52
Rev. Randy Quinn
It
was the week after Christmas when he came to visit me in my office. I don’t
remember his name, but I remember who he was. His mother was active in the
church I was serving, and he had come home for Christmas to visit.
What brought him to my office was
an almost vicious attack on my preaching. He was adamant that I was leading the
church astray. (More important to him was his mother, I realize in hindsight,
but he never said that.)
In particular, he was concerned
because I said – or had implied – that Jesus came as a baby to save us. He knew
Jesus saved us on the cross, not in the manger; he was afraid that what I had
said the Sunday before Christmas and on Christmas Eve was misleading and flat
out wrong.
His visit and his voice still echo
in my mind 20 some years later.
It echoes in my mind because in many ways he is right. Jesus was born in a
manger and was given a name that means “God saves us” (Mt. 1:21); but it was his
death and resurrection that brought us salvation. And yet some people would
prefer to spend the rest of their lives celebrating Christmas, singing the
carols that we all love so well, and avoiding the tragic tale of the passion
because of its violent nature.
He was right to be concerned
because some people only want to hear about the precious baby Jesus.
In other ways, though, his concern
misses the point of the Christmas story. God came to us in human form; God came
as a vulnerable baby; God took a great risk by coming to us in the manger.
There is an important part of the gospel that Christmas helps us know.
Like so many half-truths, the real
problem is with the other half. Part of the reason we have a church year is to
celebrate various portions of the story at different times of the year – thus
avoiding the possibility of only hearing one part of it, making it harder to
preach half truths as the full gospel story is told over time.
The concerns of that young man
prevented him from hearing the good news that the story of Christmas tells, and
nothing I could say that day was going to open his ears to that part of the
story.
Our text today brings that all to
mind again, because it feels like we are moving way too fast on the church
calendar from Jesus’ birth on Friday to his Bar Mitzvah on Sunday and his
crucifixion in a few months! Most of us would prefer to spend time with the
baby. We want to hold the baby. We want to watch him learn to recognize faces
and smile and laugh. We want to watch him learn to crawl and play games.
Some of us are frustrated because
no one is singing Christmas carols anymore! We want to reclaim the tradition of
the “twelve days of Christmas” that begin on December 25th and end on
Epiphany, January 6th.
We want to keep Jesus in the
manger – and while we may have good excuses for it, I wonder if it’s because we
don’t want to hear the story of his violent death. We don’t want him to grow up
because we know what’s in store for him. We want to let him be a baby for a
little while longer – even if we face the ire of people like that young man who
met me in my office the week after Christmas.
Our text for today may seem to be
racing us along from one end of the story to the other, taking us away from the
manger before we are ready to leave, but I don’t think that’s what Luke is
suggesting. In my understanding of Luke’s telling of the story, anyway, this
story is placed here as a reminder that our faith needs to grow up as we
mature. Not only does Jesus “increase in wisdom,” we are invited to increase in
ours as well (Lk. 2:52).
Too many of us are like Mary and
Joseph who have heard the angels singing and met the wise men; but twelve years
later they seem to have forgotten that God has a plan in mind. The angel spoke
to Mary and then to Joseph. But here in the temple, it’s as if they have
forgotten who Jesus is. God spoke to the shepherds and the magi and Mary “hid
these things” in her heart – where they still seem to be hiding. God spoke to
Anna and then to Simeon when they brought Jesus to be dedicated, but that was
too long ago to remember. Each person in the story seemed to understand who
Jesus was at the time; each made their own profession of faith in way or
another.
But none seem to have been changed
by that news – none but Jesus, that is. Here, he is the one who makes
the announcement that he is God’s son. “I must be in my Father’s house,” he
says (Lk. 2:49).
In that sense, this really is a
“coming of age” story. Jesus has been the main character of the story up to
this point, but here we hear him speak for the first time. Here we witness his
first actions as an individual. Because we know who he is, we are not surprised
where he was to be found. We are surprised, however, by the response of Mary
and Joseph. But maybe we shouldn’t be.
Any of us who have been twelve
years old recognize our own story in his. And any of us who have been parents
of twelve year olds also recognize our stories in the story of Mary and Joseph.
Like any pre-teen, Jesus is
pushing the limits. We all know he should have told Mary and Joseph where he
was. The fact that his parents thought he was with someone else in the group of
families traveling together, suggests that this is not the first time he has
left their sides. All the more reason he should have let them know. But he
doesn’t. He is expressing his own independence.
When Mary and Joseph realize Jesus
isn’t among the group, they become frantic as they look for him. It’s every
parent’s worst nightmare. But what I am struck by is how calmly they respond
when they find him. It’s as if they have been reminded of the fact that Jesus
doesn’t belong to them – he is really God’s child.
Like every child in every family,
he came into their lives as a gift and some day he will leave.
Here we get a foreshadowing of
that departure. He is in Jerusalem where he will have many more discussions
with the religious leaders. In our text he was not seen for three days – just
like the three days he will spend in the tomb.
In telling us this story today,
Luke is anticipating the rest of the story we will hear as we read his gospel.
The point he makes is that Jesus comes into our lives to make a difference, to
change our lives as well as the lives of every person he meets.
Just this week, Ronda and I were
talking again about the first two foster children that lived in our home.
Daniel and Pauletta were afraid of foster homes, so the case worker didn’t tell
them we were foster parents – she just said they would be staying with us while
their mother took care of some things.
Pauletta was only 4, and on the
first night, she was understandably missing her mother. Ronda told her that her
mother was in her heart – and that Pauletta was in her mother’s heart so it
would be OK.
After 9 days, Daniel and Pauletta
went home. We told them at that point that we were foster parents – and that
they didn’t need to be afraid of foster homes anymore. But as Ronda was
buckling Pauletta into her car seat, she asked Ronda if we would keep Pauletta
in our hearts.
That was nearly 20 years ago. And
she is still in our hearts. We don’t know if we are in hers – but we can hope
that our presence in her life made a difference.
When we encounter Jesus at the
manger, we meet God who has come in human form. And God wants a place in our
hearts. The fact that God has come to us is good news, news that needs to be
celebrated and proclaimed. But the question that remains for us is whether or
not we have been changed by the news of Christmas.
Our church is here to cultivate
life-changing relationships with God, with one another, and with our community.
We welcome Christ into our hearts, and the seed of faith is planted. We may
meet Jesus as a baby, but he grows up. Time will tell if our faith will grow as
well.
As we approach the New Year, we
have the opportunity to allow the good news of Christmas to fill our hearts so
that the grace of God can change our lives and our world.
That’s why Jesus came.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
