Sermon. Christmas 1

Sermon. St Michael and All Angels, Little Ilford, 30.12.18

First Sunday of Christmas 2018

Luke 22:41-52

It is worth taking a moment to realise just how strange today’s gospel reading is. It concerns the child Jesus. The relatively old child Jesus – once you remember that in the Jewish tradition he would become a man when he is thirteen. And I’ve said before but it bears repeating: there are more stories about the child Jesus in the Qur’an than there are in the New Testament. Indeed, apart from the stories about and around Jesus’ birth, for the New Testament, this is it. This is the singular story of the child Jesus, old enough to speak.

The story of a child showing exceptional promise, even miraculous insight and wisdom, is anything but unique. We have heard the example of Samuel. But it occurs again and again. The Jewish historian Josephus even says it about himself: “when I was a child, about fourteen years of age, I was commended by all for the love I had of learning; on which account the high priests and principal men of the city frequently came together to me, to know my opinion about the accurate understanding of points of the law.” So we may think that Luke is simply filling in a gap in the accounts of Jesus he had, because he thinks Jesus must have been an exceptional child. But there is more that is strange about this story than the fact that it exists.

First, I think you have to decide for yourselves if it is credible; if it makes sense. That Mary and Joseph set off without Jesus, simply assuming he was part of the larger gathering. It doesn’t feel likely, does it? Perhaps there was some kind of miscommunication. Perhaps Joseph checked with Jeremiah and Jehoshaphat and they said they thought Jesus was with Miriam, and Mary checked in with Miriam and Mirabel, and they said they thought he was with Jeremiah. Something like that. Maybe. But then to go a whole day without checking? There are questions here, which abide.

Second, notice the exchange:

Mary: “Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety."
Jesus: "Why were you searching for me?"

It sounds (does it not?) that Mary is angry, or at least frazzled and distressed. And it sounds (does it not?) that Jesus does not get it. I had thought that the point was Jesus was precocious, just absorbed by his own genius. But someone in a congregation one time, who’d spent her whole adult life teaching children, said: “No, Patrick, that is just how young boys are. They can only think that everyone thinks as they do. So when they do what they do, what can possibly be the problem?” Again, you must decide.

But actually something here is very strange. While the point we are supposed to take away from this story is that already as a child Jesus was wise, and was the equal of the wisest elders, within that story, what he hear is Jesus actually not understanding his own parents. Not understanding, or – I feel I have to say it – not caring. And this fits in with something I was saying in an earlier sermon. That as a human being, Jesus had to learn how to love, from those around him, and especially from his parents, and especially from Mary. Here, we might say, we see that in action. Jesus had to learn what it means to sympathise, to empathise with his parents, who, he had to learn, thought about things differently from him.

There is another thing that is maybe a little strange, but it doesn’t come out in the English translation. What Jesus, in the Greek, goes on to say is: “it is necessary for me to be in the - of my Father” [en tois tou patros mou dei einai me]. That actually does make sense in Greek, because a Greek hearer would understand that they have to supply something that is missing. And indeed “it is necessary for me to be in the House of my Father” is a perfectly good interpretation. But, as other translations note, it might also be “it is necessary for me to be about my Father’s affairs”. Something like that. It means that we cannot be quite sure what it is that seemed simply and naturally necessary for the child Jesus.

Finally, there is something that we may think of as strange, but may not be. Notice how important the Temple is to Jesus. Notice how he feels at home there. Notice how the Temple is working, is functioning well, as a religious place, a place of wisdom. A place where people gather to look to Gd and Gd’s communication. We tend to think that Jesus was against the Temple, because we focus on the story of the cleansing of the Temple later on [Lk 19.45-48 & pll]. But here it is not true. Jesus is drawn to the Temple, and (depending on our translation) sees it as his Father’s House. And, actually, Luke is more positive about the Temple and Jerusalem than he is negative. It is a reminder that it is untrue that Jesus was simply against the Judaism of his day, though - frankly like all Jews throughout time - he could be critical of this or that element.

All of these strangenesses aside, today’s core message is clear: Jesus grew up well. He had remarkable wisdom even as a child. Others were amazed by it. But, all that said, he did need to grow up. He did need to learn, like every other child, what it is to think of others and others’ concerns. In these days of Christmastide, away from the drama of the story of the birth itself, when things are calmer, perhaps we can take a moment, even now, to be thankful, to give gentle thanks, that he did grow up, that his parents loved him, that he learned to love, that he grew in wisdom. And so he can give us all good things. Amen.