'The parents of Jesus went to
Jerusalem every year for the festival of the Passover. And when he was twelve
years old, they went up as usual for the festival. When the festival was ended
and they started to return, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but his
parents did not know it. Assuming that he was in the group of travelers, they
went a day's journey. Then they started to look for him among their relatives
and friends. When they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem to search
for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the
teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. And all who heard him
were amazed at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him they
were astonished; and his mother said to him, "Child, why have you treated
us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great
anxiety." He said to them, "Why were you searching for me? Did you
not know that I must be in my Father's house?" But they did not understand
what he said to them. Then he went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was
obedient to them. His mother treasured all these things in her heart. And Jesus increased in
wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor.'
--Luke 2: 41-52
An Eastern icon of the child Jesus in the Temple.
There is quite a lot that we can unpack from this story of
12 year old Jesus in the Temple. The first thing we might think is that Mary
and Joseph are just the worst parents. How could they lose the Son of
God?! Well, to be fair to them, a
journey of importance like going up to the Temple for Passover would’ve been
done with a group of possibly hundreds of people, mostly relatives, caravanning
from Nazareth. It would’ve been easy to assume that Jesus was just with another
one of those relatives.
Yeah, but he’s only 12, we might say. Why would they not
keep a closer eye on him? He’s a kid and bound to wander off like every other 12 year old boy. We have to remember,
though, that 12 years old in 1st century Jewish culture is not 12 years old in 21st century Western Christian culture; in
fact, it was considered the beginning of adulthood and technically still is,
marked by the celebration of a bar mitzvah for a boy and a bat mitzvah for a
girl. So to expect Jesus to be following behind or leaving the Temple at the
appropriate time would not have been unreasonable if his parents were expecting him to act like any other adult. Let's cut Mary and Joseph some slack. They aren’t
as bad at parenting as we might initially think.
What I appreciate most about this story is how it
characterizes a young Jesus. A common misconception when retelling this story
is for folks to say that pre-teen Jesus was teaching in the Temple. This often inspires us, imagining a young person so filled with wisdom that
even the old rabbis gather around him to hear what he has to say. As a young
clergy person, I totally dig the image of the youngest person in the room teaching a room of older folks who are actually listening to him! But if we look a little closer at the text we notice that Jesus isn’t
teaching! He’s listening. More than that, he’s asking questions. Sure, those around him are
amazed at his understanding and his answers to their questions, but it’s the
listening and asking questions that seem to define Jesus at this critical point
of transition in his young life. This is, after all, the last time we will see Jesus until his baptism, at which point he is presumed to be in his early 30s.
In a way, though, I suppose we could say that Jesus is
teaching in the Temple, just not the way we might expect. He may not be giving a lecture or taking the traditional rabbi's position, but he is teaching by example. What he teaches, therefore, are two
very important skills: the ability to listen and the ability to ask questions.
How many of us really cultivate these two qualities in our lives? How often do we just nod in agreement with
someone when they’re speaking, or reply back, with a personal opinion or statement, rather than an inquisitive, qualifying question? Rather than a conversation, it seems we are more engaged in a kind of verbal tennis match, just passing our personal takes back and forth between one another. I worked in a summer camp prior to seminary, and when I asked
the director for one last piece of advice before I started he told me to listen
more than I speak, and to ask more questions.
I don’t think it’s a mistake that Jesus is 12 years old and
exhibiting these qualities. As far as
his culture is concerned, he’s an adult, and here we see him showing a level of
emotional and spiritual maturity the likes of which we cannot imagine from a 12
year old, let alone from someone much, much older. What the young Jesus is
teaching us is how to be emotionally and spiritually mature people ourselves.
We do not grow in maturity when all we do is speak. We do not grow in maturity when all we do is make statements
and mild observations. We grow in maturity by intentionally listening to one another, not just hearing words that are coming out of someone's mouth. This is especially true when we are engaged in heated conversations
with people with whom we disagree. This is holy listening and holy questioning in which Jesus is engaged. Our culture today is not concerned with holy listening and questioning. Our culture is more concerned with who can have the last word in a Facebook comment thread, or who can have the wittiest, snarkiest comeback to someone. We’re not concerned with asking questions or
trying to understand where the other is coming from, only repeating our own
experiences and positions, effectively gaslighting and silencing the other.
Some might be quick to label this an immature attitude reflective of millennial
or Gen-Z culture, but this millennial will remind you that my social media feed shows every generation guilty of
neglecting the most basic principles of listening and asking questions. Especially after the week we just experienced in our nation, we desperately need to
remember those principles. It’s not about age, it’s about maturity. We learn
this, ironically, from a 12 year old kid.