"Searching for Jesus"

First Presbyterian Church
December 31, 2006
Peter S. Buehler
Luke 2:41-52

"Child, why have you treated us like this?"

You know how certain events in your life stand out -- small things, minor moments, yet you remember them as if they were yesterday. I remember vividly the day Kati and I took our first child to preschool. It was over twenty years ago, but I remember what happened, and I remember how I felt.

Not that anything remarkable took place; it was the opposite. We walked with Rudy into the preschool, small rooms in the downstairs of a church -- much like our Early Childhood Center here. There were other children; teachers came over and welcomed us, making us comfortable. Neither Kati nor I knew what to expect, how our son would take to being away from us, what his first day would be like. Reflecting back now, I don't know who was more nervous -- my son or myself -- though I certainly didn't want to show it. Dads aren't supposed to ask for a blanket and go whimper in a corner. I know I was relieved when my sharp-eyed son spotted two Sesame Street friends on the shelf of toys and stuffed animals. "Ernie! Bert!" he cried. It was like old home week. A few minutes later he grabbed a book and sat down with another boy and they started turning the pages and looking at the pictures.

And that was it. Time for Kati and me to leave. We expected tears; we expected crying and clinging. There was none; we felt short-changed! Rudy wanted to get on with his day and it was time for Mom and Dad to go. I felt like saying, "Son, could you come up with a little more emotion, please? This is when you're supposed to show how attached you are to your dear mother and father!" We left pondering these things in our hearts.

So I'm very sympathetic to Mary and Joseph, how they felt when they finally located their missing son. It was after they'd gone a full day's journey that they realized Jesus wasn't with the others on their return from Jerusalem to Nazareth, their annual Passover visit. Some read this story and mistakenly assume that Mary and Joseph were negligent; no one -- at least no one today -- would let their child out of sight for five minutes, let alone 24 hours. Though in ancient times there was no concept of the nuclear family -- everyone's family was an extended family, children belonged to everyone -- so Mary and Joseph's assumption about Jesus being with his aunts, uncles, and cousins made perfect sense.

But when they realized he wasn't, they were frantic. Any parent or grandparent knows the feeling; there is nothing more dreadful than discovering that our child is missing. To do justice to the story from the Gospel, however, we must go to that place, scary as it is, and allow ourselves to relate to Mary and Joseph's panic.

The Christmas story is so serene by comparison, Jesus' parents beside his cradle, standing quietly, adoringly. Here twelve years later it is the opposite: Jesus' parents are beside themselves! They are searching high and low in every neighborhood in Jerusalem, crazy with worry, asking everyone they meet about a lost 12 year-old boy. Somehow someone knows -- word has gotten around about this precocious boy so wise beyond his years -- Mary and Joseph waste no time, racing off to the temple. They spot their son seated among the elders; Mary is overcome with relief and exhaustion, but she is also like every other parent -- she needs her son to understand the consequences of his actions. Writer and Bible interpreter Eugene Peterson gets the sound of her scolding just right: Young man, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been half out of our minds looking for you.

I love this scene! Mary and Joseph make me feel normal. So much emotion; being a parent can be so hard. And when you're finally right about something -- a situation so black-and-white, your child has really been out of line this time -- you step boldly into that parental role and you let your kid have it with both barrels.
I feels so good.

For a brief moment. Then you realize your child was being a child, and what did you expect? Or you remember that you did the same or worse with your parents, and your anger is like a balloon with the ribbon untied -- you quickly come back to earth. Mary came quickly back down to earth. She hadn't thought about what her son would say when she found him, only what she would say. But now Jesus spoke, and his words went straight to her heart. Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house? Did you not know that I must be about my Father's interests?" in another translation.

Either way, like Mary we are speechless. And that's a good thing! We should be speechless. The one thing we must not say is Well, of course. This is Jesus, what do you expect? He's God's Son! Where else would he be but in the temple?
This is to dismiss Jesus! To say that all we see in this scene is his divinity -- a preview of his adult life, his holy life -- is to dismiss the person of Jesus. Yes, it is the only place in the New Testament we encounter him as a boy, but it is not just a snapshot from a photo album, a moment Mary would later point back to -- See, this one is when Joseph and I found him in the temple and we remembered right at that moment what the angel said to us about him back before he was born!

There's more mystery here than that. There's more humanity here than that.
What is so wonderful about this story is that it shows Jesus as completely human. He is human in the way he is asking questions of the adults. He is human in the way he is beginning to separate himself from his parents, finding his own way. He is human in the way he is searching for God, his Father.

This is the perfect story for us on this last day of 2006. We are about to enter a new year. We wonder, What will it require of us? What will our needs be? What will our prayers be? What will we learn in 2007 that we don't understand in 2006?
Quite honestly, I'm looking forward to watching football tomorrow, as it's a great way to not think about anything serious, especially the unknown. When the Rose Bowl is on, everything else is off -- perfect!

Yet I wonder if the story of Jesus searching for his Father, and his parents searching for him, is not also the story of our searching -- our search for God, our search for meaning, our search for purpose and comfort and peace, our search for our own humanity. We should not outgrow the 12 year-old in us, the child who needs to know why and how and what and when. Parents get exhausted with questions from kids, but our heavenly Parent does not get tired of our wanting to be with him, with our searching for understanding! The parent figure in us wags a finger and says We'll tell you what you need to know, Don't go off on your own, Stay with the crowd, Play it safe, Don't get hurt, Don't cause your family any needless anxiety. Yet the child in us, the one Jesus welcomes to himself, listens to and loves, says Life is so amazing and exciting, and God is so incredible, and I want to learn more, and I want to live as fully as I can each day, each month, each year of my life!

Dawn Devries, a Professor at Union Seminary in Richmond, VA writes about the theology of childhood. She says something I find very challenging. "Growing up… should not mean leaving childhood behind," she writes. "The insights of childhood are not illusions that must be replaced with the cold hard facts of adult reality." It's a profoundly Christian statement: Jesus himself said that unless we become as children, we will not enter the kingdom of God. At least part of what he means is that we are to live fully and richly in each day that God gives us; that we are to give of ourselves in the time we have and not fuss about tomorrow, that we are to take the questions we have seriously; that we are to delight in our relationships with our peers, with our parents, and with our God.

And not be in such a hurry. One of my New Year's resolution is to not be in such a hurry. What's the rush? We don't ever hear Jesus in the Gospels telling us to be in a hurry. He says, "Don't be afraid"; he says "Peace be with you"; he says "Love God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength, and Love your neighbor as yourself," but we don't hear him ever say What's taking you so long? Hurry up!

Dawn Devries says our modern impatience starts with what she calls an "instrumental" view of childhood, that children are valuable not so much for who they are, but who they will become. "The infant is valuable chiefly for the toddler he will become, the young child for the adolescent, the teenager for the adult." "Toward a Theology of Childhood," Interpretation, April 2001, pp. 162-163
We think of the programs and activities we plan, and indeed they are great for our children, but just letting them have down time, play time, unscheduled time is also important, letting children be who they are. Devries refers to this as the "intrinsic" view of childhood -- that our children are not just becoming something, they are something.

We hear the acronym today -- KGOY, Kids Growing Older Younger -- we doubt it's a good thing, we wonder if somehow our children are picking up from us that to be younger is to be less valuable, when we know that is not the case. Not that they are always perfect, or that raising children is easy -- or even that it becomes easier. As one parent shared with a friend: "We've child-proofed our house, but they keep getting back in!" Yet the caution is a good one, "Growing up should not mean leaving childhood behind."

It's one of the reasons I love the church, the people of the church. We keep each other young! The non-churchgoing public finds it convenient to hold on to a stereotype that churchgoers are fuddy-duddy, straight-laced, non-fun-loving fogies; that we're all directly descended from the Puritans, of whom it was said that they all stayed up nights worrying that someone, somewhere might be having a good time.

I think it's the opposite. Church people are the ones having the good time. Good in the sense of having a deep knowledge that God is good, that Christ is alive and in Him we are too, therefore we are filled with hope, therefore we have peace, therefore we are free to love others as Christ loves us, therefore life is very good indeed -- and fun.

I'd like to mention a few names of fun-loving people, not to embarrass them but to make a point. Bert Willoughby. Hang out with young people like him, a perennial volunteer with the youth group, and you will see fun-in-action. Bert is our church Treasurer, a major adult responsibility, but if you want to see the 14 year-old Bert look for him on Youth Group nights here at FPC.

Susan Croshaw. Talk about someone who grew up in the church! She and Mark like to hide things in people's homes when they come to visit. Kati and I are still finding things around our house; What's this? Ah yes, the Croshaws were here. That explains it. Susan sewed all the costumes for the Christmas Eve tableaux actors, all in the hectic weeks before Christmas, but her favorite moment was in the service when the two cows (or were they donkeys?) heard the bells ringing in the organ loft and suddenly got out of character, becoming small boys wondering Where did those bells come from?

And if you saw or read about our recent group of new members, you met Ethel Seal, who, at age 94, decided to join the church. Never too late to make a childlike decision, Ethel took the plunge and joined the ranks of those trying to keep up with Jesus. I will say that if I live to 94, I want to have the smile I see on Ethel's face every Sunday after church, it is so beautiful.

How shall we follow Jesus in 2007? What new decisions will we make? How shall we express Christian faith in our homes, in our work, in our church, in our community? Where will our search take us? What will we learn; how will we grow? How shall we honor and guide the children among us in the year ahead?
How shall we value and heed the child within us?

For the 12 year-old Christ, the search began in the temple, in the community of the faithful, among fellow searchers, fellow learners, fellow worshippers. They were all older than he. Yet despite his age, Jesus was welcomed and listened to.
May we do the same.

Amen.