Becoming Jesus
December 27, 2009
December 27, 2009
Rev. Susan E. Gilbert Zencka
Frame Memorial Presbyterian Church
Texts: Colossians 3:12-17, Luke 2:41-52
I’ve recently started painting – and have painted a few little pictures now. No one is going to be fooled into thinking I have much artistic ability, but I am really enjoying the time I’m spending at painting; I love mixing colors; and I’ve even signed up for a short class. I was telling Susan Barrett that I was thinking about putting together a couple of pieces of fruit, with perhaps a bud vase and a single blossom and painting them as they sit on the kitchen table, surrounded by three days worth of mail, the morning paper, and the clutter that seems to collect so easily. And Susan had the best idea. She said, “Yeah, you could call it Real Life.” Too funny…and too true. The way we really live isn’t always the way we’d like to picture our lives.
And that seems to be the case with this morning’s readings, too. The first one, from Paul’s letter to the Colossians, paints a lovely picture of the Christian community: “”Clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other…sing songs, hymns, and spiritual songs.” It’s a lovely picture – sounds a little like we’re all gathering for a hymn sing after some large shared task, kind of like a musical where folks worked together in perfect choreography, and then sang about it. Everyone is smiling, everyone is loving , everyone full of joy, and the songs are a cappella in 4-part harmony….ahhhhh.
But I think real life looks more like the second story, traditions celebrated amidst comings and goings, togetherness interwoven with misunderstanding, frustration, and everyone having a little something to think about. Of course family life brings a little frustration from time to time – after all, nobody’s perfect, right?
Oh, but wait – Jesus is supposed to be perfect. But as the saying goes: It’s complicated. And where Jesus is concerned, it really IS complicated: orthodox theology tells us that Jesus is fully divine, fully human, two natures in union, neither commingled nor confused. But I’m kind of betting that Jesus was sometimes confused – who isn’t, as we work out our identity? Am I athletic like my mother’s family, or musical like my father’s family? I look like my Aunt Josie, but everyone says I’m just like Gram when she was my age. And beyond our relatives, just our own sense of self can be confusing: I’m good at math and science, but I don’t find them interesting; I want to be a dancer, but can you make a living that way? And although when we’re kids, we talk about “what we’re going to be when we grow up,” those of us who are adults know that identity issues go on as long as we’re alive and growing, and indeed, often gain new importance in retirement.
And it all begins long before the cusp of adulthood – children can begin very early to make decisions about what traits they want to nurture in themselves: do they want to be kind to others? Do they want to overcome shyness? Should they build on a natural sense of humor? I remember being punished for lying when I was in about first grade, and realized that I cared a great deal about people being able to trust me, so I decided to be truthful. I remember a time a couple of years later when I realized that my little brother would eventually get bigger than me, and so I should stop pushing him around before he figured that out – we’ve gotten along well ever since, and avoided a lot of the bickering that many siblings experience, partly because one of us made a decision that getting along with each other made a lot of sense.
Certainly some of our identity is derived from who we were born to be, but an awful lot of our identity is born from our family’s values, and our own decisions along the way about who we want to become. And those decisions can begin early. So it was not out of order for Jesus to be thinking about who he might be becoming, because Jesus did become who he was. He wasn’t just hatched at birth, ready to take the world by storm. Like any other human child – Jesus had to grow into his identity, and so he made decisions along the way.
Let’s take a closer look at the story now: this is the only story in the Bible that tells about the growing up of Jesus. Although it’s a small story, we can learn about the life of Jesus from it:
This is a story that I have always loved – it sounds so real to me, although I always suspect that there has been some editorial liberties taken with what Mary said. Her words are so mild with Jesus – and some of that comes with the translation. The word that our version translates as ‘anxious’ really means ‘worried half-to-death, and grieving with fear’ – in other words, Mary had been afraid she’d never see her son again – and this dread had probably be constantly increasing in the three days that she and Joseph had been combing the streets of Jerusalem looking for Jesus. And I’ve always thought that the real sainthood of Mary and Joseph was shown in their restraint after Jesus responds to their words of anxiety and relief by saying, "Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?" Certainly not the words of a contrite son, although the conversation must have continued during the two or three day walk home, because Luke then tells us that on their return to Nazareth, “Jesus was obedient to them.”
And then come my two favorite lines in the story: His mother treasured all these things in her heart. And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor.
Of course she dwelled on these things – don’t we all dwell on moments in relationships where truth has (perhaps inadvertently) been told? While this is certainly a moment that is particularly characteristic of the parenting process – when we gaze at our children and remember that they are not our own, but God’s, and that we do not control who and how they are becoming – there are moments of truth in all substantive relationships, when we realize that we do not fully know one another, that we never control others, and that there will always be surprises ahead.
And the wonderful surprise in this story: And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor. Jesus grew in wisdom – he grew intellectually; Jesus grew in years – he grew physically; Jesus grew in divine favor – he grew spiritually; Jesus grew in human favor – he grew socially. Jesus grew in all the ways we grow. He didn’t only grow up, he grew better. He needed to become who he was – just as all of us do. He really was fully human: a human who needed to grow up, grow wiser, and grow in his relationships including his spirituality. And I supposed there are two ways to interpret this – one is that Jesus wasn’t perfect, but had imperfections just as other humans do. And that is certainly a reasonable conclusion. And the other interpretation, the one I think I favor, is that Jesus was perfect, but that being in process of becoming was part of his perfection. What if we are, too? What if all the things we know could be different in ourselves, all the things we would describe as flaws, what if all of that is just part of our process? What if we are just as we’re supposed to be? What if growing wiser, older, socially and spiritually is part of our own perfection? And that being aware of our own incompleteness is part of our own perfection. What if we’re only imperfect if we’re NOT growing?
Something to keep in our hearts and ponder…as we grow. Amen.
Rev. Susan E. Gilbert Zencka
Frame Memorial Presbyterian Church
Texts: Colossians 3:12-17, Luke 2:41-52
I’ve recently started painting – and have painted a few little pictures now. No one is going to be fooled into thinking I have much artistic ability, but I am really enjoying the time I’m spending at painting; I love mixing colors; and I’ve even signed up for a short class. I was telling Susan Barrett that I was thinking about putting together a couple of pieces of fruit, with perhaps a bud vase and a single blossom and painting them as they sit on the kitchen table, surrounded by three days worth of mail, the morning paper, and the clutter that seems to collect so easily. And Susan had the best idea. She said, “Yeah, you could call it Real Life.” Too funny…and too true. The way we really live isn’t always the way we’d like to picture our lives.
And that seems to be the case with this morning’s readings, too. The first one, from Paul’s letter to the Colossians, paints a lovely picture of the Christian community: “”Clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other…sing songs, hymns, and spiritual songs.” It’s a lovely picture – sounds a little like we’re all gathering for a hymn sing after some large shared task, kind of like a musical where folks worked together in perfect choreography, and then sang about it. Everyone is smiling, everyone is loving , everyone full of joy, and the songs are a cappella in 4-part harmony….ahhhhh.
But I think real life looks more like the second story, traditions celebrated amidst comings and goings, togetherness interwoven with misunderstanding, frustration, and everyone having a little something to think about. Of course family life brings a little frustration from time to time – after all, nobody’s perfect, right?
Oh, but wait – Jesus is supposed to be perfect. But as the saying goes: It’s complicated. And where Jesus is concerned, it really IS complicated: orthodox theology tells us that Jesus is fully divine, fully human, two natures in union, neither commingled nor confused. But I’m kind of betting that Jesus was sometimes confused – who isn’t, as we work out our identity? Am I athletic like my mother’s family, or musical like my father’s family? I look like my Aunt Josie, but everyone says I’m just like Gram when she was my age. And beyond our relatives, just our own sense of self can be confusing: I’m good at math and science, but I don’t find them interesting; I want to be a dancer, but can you make a living that way? And although when we’re kids, we talk about “what we’re going to be when we grow up,” those of us who are adults know that identity issues go on as long as we’re alive and growing, and indeed, often gain new importance in retirement.
And it all begins long before the cusp of adulthood – children can begin very early to make decisions about what traits they want to nurture in themselves: do they want to be kind to others? Do they want to overcome shyness? Should they build on a natural sense of humor? I remember being punished for lying when I was in about first grade, and realized that I cared a great deal about people being able to trust me, so I decided to be truthful. I remember a time a couple of years later when I realized that my little brother would eventually get bigger than me, and so I should stop pushing him around before he figured that out – we’ve gotten along well ever since, and avoided a lot of the bickering that many siblings experience, partly because one of us made a decision that getting along with each other made a lot of sense.
Certainly some of our identity is derived from who we were born to be, but an awful lot of our identity is born from our family’s values, and our own decisions along the way about who we want to become. And those decisions can begin early. So it was not out of order for Jesus to be thinking about who he might be becoming, because Jesus did become who he was. He wasn’t just hatched at birth, ready to take the world by storm. Like any other human child – Jesus had to grow into his identity, and so he made decisions along the way.
Let’s take a closer look at the story now: this is the only story in the Bible that tells about the growing up of Jesus. Although it’s a small story, we can learn about the life of Jesus from it:
- First of all, we can assume that most of his growing up was pretty ordinary – it didn’t seem to arouse a lot of interest. IF there had been a number of significant events, we can be fairly confident that they would have been commented on by the Gospel writers.
• Second, we know that his family observed the religious traditions of the time – every year, during Passover, they travelled from Nazareth to Jerusalem, a journey of about 65 miles, more than a trip to the local synagogue and while many Jews habitually made that trek for the holy days, it was not universal – so the family of Jesus is more active in its religious practices.
• We know that Jesus felt comfortable in a theological conversation – and in that, I don’t think he is an unusual twelve-year-old. That spark of divinity that lies within each of us (that we call the Holy Spirit and Quakers call the inner light) doesn’t switch on at adulthood – God is present to each of us, and some children have very powerful spiritual experiences. The 10-12 year olds whom I visited a couple of weeks ago all are thinking about God, and have good questions. In one family when I asked what the boys are wondering about God, they asked about end-of-life issues as well as about the origin of the earth – and both are questions that some in the Men’s Group also wonder about. Children experience God, and have thoughtful questions about God – they are not in a pre-spiritual phase of life.
• We also know that his family life included extended family – aunts, uncles cousins, which was pretty usual for the time – and they travelled together to Jerusalem for the festival. So let’s think about the story directly now.
This is a story that I have always loved – it sounds so real to me, although I always suspect that there has been some editorial liberties taken with what Mary said. Her words are so mild with Jesus – and some of that comes with the translation. The word that our version translates as ‘anxious’ really means ‘worried half-to-death, and grieving with fear’ – in other words, Mary had been afraid she’d never see her son again – and this dread had probably be constantly increasing in the three days that she and Joseph had been combing the streets of Jerusalem looking for Jesus. And I’ve always thought that the real sainthood of Mary and Joseph was shown in their restraint after Jesus responds to their words of anxiety and relief by saying, "Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?" Certainly not the words of a contrite son, although the conversation must have continued during the two or three day walk home, because Luke then tells us that on their return to Nazareth, “Jesus was obedient to them.”
And then come my two favorite lines in the story: His mother treasured all these things in her heart. And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor.
Of course she dwelled on these things – don’t we all dwell on moments in relationships where truth has (perhaps inadvertently) been told? While this is certainly a moment that is particularly characteristic of the parenting process – when we gaze at our children and remember that they are not our own, but God’s, and that we do not control who and how they are becoming – there are moments of truth in all substantive relationships, when we realize that we do not fully know one another, that we never control others, and that there will always be surprises ahead.
And the wonderful surprise in this story: And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor. Jesus grew in wisdom – he grew intellectually; Jesus grew in years – he grew physically; Jesus grew in divine favor – he grew spiritually; Jesus grew in human favor – he grew socially. Jesus grew in all the ways we grow. He didn’t only grow up, he grew better. He needed to become who he was – just as all of us do. He really was fully human: a human who needed to grow up, grow wiser, and grow in his relationships including his spirituality. And I supposed there are two ways to interpret this – one is that Jesus wasn’t perfect, but had imperfections just as other humans do. And that is certainly a reasonable conclusion. And the other interpretation, the one I think I favor, is that Jesus was perfect, but that being in process of becoming was part of his perfection. What if we are, too? What if all the things we know could be different in ourselves, all the things we would describe as flaws, what if all of that is just part of our process? What if we are just as we’re supposed to be? What if growing wiser, older, socially and spiritually is part of our own perfection? And that being aware of our own incompleteness is part of our own perfection. What if we’re only imperfect if we’re NOT growing?
Something to keep in our hearts and ponder…as we grow. Amen.