NOTES for Luk 2:41-52

The life of Jesus between the Nativity and His going out to preach is closed to us, but the story of the journey to Jerusalem gives us the only glimmer in the fog. Why, then, did the evangelist include only this episode from the Savior's childhood in his narrative? Hardly only because no other information had survived by the time the text was composed; rather, it was because this particular episode is important for understanding later events. For before us is a testimony that already in childhood Jesus was conscious of His mission.

Jesus must have been sociable as a child; otherwise it is hard to explain why Mary and Joseph, at first thinking that He was traveling with relatives and neighbors, showed no concern about His absence. We, for our part, may conclude that already in childhood He knew how to communicate with very different people, and that His conversation in the temple anticipated His coming work as Teacher. And that the temple is His Father's house is witnessed not only by His words, but also by how naturally He behaved in the temple. As for His three-day absence from those close to Him, many interpreters advise seeing it as a foreshadowing of His absence from the earth after Golgotha...

The glorification of the Lord in Hannah’s hymn and in Isaiah’s prophecy rings out solemnly. God accomplishes something immense, changing the destinies of nations and of the entire universe—such is the power of God. Yet the Gospel of Luke tells us how this power, for the first time and still not very clearly, reveals its presence in the young Jesus. This power contains no violence or cruelty, because it is the power of God’s love. This power does not crush; it saves. And the very name Jesus means “God saves.”

The appearance of the adolescent Jesus among the teachers of the Torah and learned rabbis caused a sensation. He was very young and had clearly had no chance yet to receive any education anywhere, yet He reasoned with the well-known Jerusalem experts of the Torah as their equal. Meanwhile Jesus' relatives, with whom He had come to the city for the feast, were very troubled and anxious over His disappearance.

There was nothing strange about this: Jerusalem, unlike quiet provincial Nazareth, was the capital of Judea, a large city where a provincial teenager could easily get lost. Besides, the Temple in Jerusalem was a special place with special rules of conduct, which Jesus' relatives thought the boy might not know. Moreover, He had gone where, by traditional standards, someone His age should not have gone at all.

Of course, religious education among the Jews in every age was quite open and did not imply any class exclusiveness; even among the disciples of the most famous rabbis there were sometimes poor people of no aristocratic origin at all. But a certain hierarchy existed here too: one could become a disciple of some famous Jerusalem teacher of the Torah only after receiving the appropriate elementary and secondary education in a local Jewish religious school, a yeshiva.

There were likely such yeshivas in Nazareth as well, as there were wherever Jewish communities and, accordingly, synagogues existed. It is hard to say whether Jesus studied in any yeshiva: none of the Gospels mentions anything of the kind. But during that visit to Jerusalem He was in any case still too young to count on becoming a disciple of any of the famous Jerusalem teachers of the Torah. Yet He was not simply listening to them; He was asking them questions, and questions of such a kind that they made the experts of the Torah marvel and ask one another which of them, or which other teachers, this teenager who asked such questions had studied under.

All this could not help but alarm Jesus' relatives. Of course, taking part in the conversations of venerable teachers was not in itself a violation of the law and was not punishable in any way, but such behavior could well be taken as the unacceptable arrogance of an upstart claiming what he plainly had no right to claim. It goes without saying that Jesus' relatives did not want such a reputation for Him. All this together made them live through several anxious hours, which nevertheless ended quite well for everyone.

The twelve-year-old Lord Jesus, who remained in the Jerusalem Temple, answers the sorrowful question of His Most Pure Mother by speaking of His Father's House. This is the House in which He must be. Perhaps the thought of this served as the basis for the revelation of the Book of Proverbs: "Wisdom has built her house..." The evangelist paints two pictures at once: the teachers and scribes are amazed at Jesus' wisdom, and His parents are searching the city for Him in distress. His answer to His Mother sounds like a riddle: where else should a boy be, if not in his father's house? A person should live at home. Already then the Lord begins to reveal to people His origin and calling: He is God's Wisdom and God's Son.

But there is one more important aspect of this event. The Lord speaks of the House that belongs to His Heavenly Father; in our language, this is precisely what the word "homeland" means in its deeper sense. And when we read that His homeland is heaven, should we not ask where our homeland is? Not the territory where the people who gave birth to us live, but the homeland in the deeper sense: where we are from, and where the home is that we could call our eternal dwelling. As we try to find the answer to this question, we understand that thanks to the Incarnation of the Son of God, His homeland becomes ours as well, and through Him we receive the eternal Home.

Twelve years old Jesus who remained behind in the temple of Jerusalem speaks about the House of His Father in answer to the lugubrious question of His holy Mother. It is in this House that He is going to live. This thought has may be served as base for the revelation of the book of proverbs: "Wisdom built His house ". The evangelist highlights two scenes: teachers and scribes are surprised by Jesus’ wisdom on one hand, and on the other hand His parents in disarray look for Him in the entire city. His answer to His mother look like an enigma: where can a little boy be again, if it is not in the house of His father? A Person should live in his own house. Jesus already begins here to open to people His origin and His vocation: He is the God of Wisdom and the Son of God.

There is another important aspect of this event. The Lord speaks about the House, belonging to His Celestial Father - it is indeed what is called in our language "homeland". Don't we have to ask the question: where is our homeland, by reading that the Homeland of Jesus is in the sky? We don't speak about the territory where our ancestors lived and where we live today; we talk about the homeland in a wider sense. Where are we from and where is the house which we could call our eternal house? When we try to find the answer to this question, we understand that the homeland of the Son of God becomes ours and through Him we find the eternal house thanks to His Incarnation.

Sometimes one wants to declare with complete certainty that no one likes to obey. The reasons for this are described in the book of Genesis: God created the human person free, and the human person used this freedom by carrying out his desire to be in charge, to determine good and evil independently, to be "like gods" (Gen. 3:5), and therefore to obey no one.

How often everything boils inside us when we understand that we need to submit, even though there is sense in it and we must do it because of our position. And what happens inside when we disagree, and we are not even very obligated to submit? How we want to do everything the other way around, and if that does not work, to give ourselves over to irritation and indignation!

But our Teacher gives us an entirely different example. By the way, it is worth paying attention to His age: despite the fact that in Israel a child of twelve ceased to be considered such, before us is still a twelve-year-old boy... And in a situation where He is undoubtedly right, for the Savior simply could not act wrongly, Jesus submits to His parents, and not only on the day when they found Him in the Temple, but also afterward. And He does this because the Lord commanded us to honor father and mother (Deut. 5:16), and the word of God, the will of God, is most important for Him.

We know almost nothing about Jesus' childhood and youth. That is not surprising: the evangelists focused their attention on Jesus' messianic ministry, on the reason for which He came into the world. But He came here like every human being. The difference was only one thing: His nature was not touched by original sin. It had no share in it to any degree. From the very beginning it was completely free from it. But the process by which this human nature of Jesus came to maturity was the same as it should have been according to God's design for human nature. And according to this design, the physical and psychological formation of a person should be accompanied by his spiritual formation.

When the matter concerns nature, whether physical nature or psychological nature, we easily understand that a person's formation and development is nothing other than the unfolding of the possibilities placed in his nature by God, which, once unfolded, make a person what he is. But the person must unfold his possibilities himself, although without God's help this is impossible. Spiritual formation is somewhat different. Spirit is not nature; it does not develop, become more complex, or grow as natural structures do. Spirit has no structure; it manifests itself as will, and its growth is the strengthening of its will. And correspondingly, it is the widening of the circle of influence available to the will, the inclusion of ever new objects in this circle of influence, and, of course, the widening and deepening of interaction with other spirits. With other wills. With other persons, because a person is self-aware will. The spiritual formation of a human being therefore presupposes the widening and deepening of his awareness of himself. Of his will. Of his personhood. And of that on which it rests: the breath of life that is in a person from God.

Thus self-awareness leads a person, if of course he remains consistent and faithful to his true self, to communion with God. To a meeting with God, who dwells in that depth of the human person which in the language of the Bible is called the heart. All this applies fully to Jesus as well. After all, He too is human. More than that: He is Man with a capital letter. To each person God's presence in the heart is given in its own measure, and to Him alone it is given fully and absolutely. As the Messiah and the God-man. It is no wonder that He too grew as every human being grows. In order to grow into His own measure, the measure of the Messiah and the God-man.

Why did Christ accept circumcision, and what is the spiritual meaning of this event? Of course, one can say that He was little then. But He allowed this to happen, and therefore, despite the fact that He was little, this event has spiritual content. So what is it? To confirm that "salvation is from the Jews" (John 4:22)? Or to pass through the whole path of His humility, limiting Himself not only by human appearance but also by all the limitation of human culture?

It is also certain that He knew that after Him the apostle Paul would come, sternly rebuking all who do not understand the full limitation of this rite, as of every rite in general. In the Epistle to the Romans alone he speaks of this more than once; see chapters 2, 3, and 4. For example: "For he is not a Jew who is one outwardly, nor is circumcision that which is outward in the flesh" (Rom. 2:28), or "Circumcision is nothing and uncircumcision is nothing, but keeping the commandments of God" (1 Cor. 7:19).

The Lord knew this and still allowed His circumcision to take place. In this is His humility before the Law, which He came to fulfill (Matt. 5:17), and this is precisely what allows the apostle Paul to say: "In Him you were also circumcised with a circumcision made without hands, in the putting off of the body of the flesh, by the circumcision of Christ" (Col. 2:11).

Today's account of Jesus remaining in the Temple in Jerusalem recalls the words from the Book of Proverbs (9:1): “Wisdom has built her house...” Having come to Jerusalem for the Passover feast, He remained in His Father's house. The Evangelist paints two pictures at once: the teachers of the people, the scribes, marvel at Jesus' wisdom, while His parents search the city for Him in distress. His answer to His Mother sounds like a riddle: where else should a boy be but in his father's house? A person should live at home. Even then the Lord begins to reveal His origin and calling to people: He is God's Wisdom and God's Son, for those who can understand this. And if someone does not want to understand it? Well then, if he still wants to listen to Jesus, he will have to spend his whole life solving His riddles...

Today's reading continues the account of the witnesses connected with the Nativity. And if the first witnesses were shepherds, now righteous people and prophets come to take their place. It would seem that these people are not at all like simple shepherds. But there is something common that unites them: all of them are waiting for the Messiah and are ready to receive him as he is. For a prophet, the revelation received from God is most important; he hears God directly, and for him there is no question about whether he can trust what he has heard.

The prophetic experience of direct communion with God is, of course, unique every time, but with all its uniqueness, none of those who had occasion to hear the voice of God raised questions of what modern theologians call theological verification: any prophet receives the revelation given to him as a direct instruction to act. And if God points to the infant brought into the Temple as the Messiah, then that infant truly is the Messiah, whoever may say otherwise and whatever doubts learned rabbis and teachers of the Torah may express on this matter.

Righteousness is a phenomenon of another kind, but a righteous person too is often given the ability to hear God. And if at times his mystical hearing is not as sharpened as a prophet's hearing, the habit of trusting God unconditionally helps the righteous person become certain of the authenticity of the revelation received. What unites these people with simple shepherds is not only the expectation of the Messiah, but also their attitude toward God and toward the will of God. One could say that, unlike the same Pharisees, for example, they are not very religious. Of course, all of them are members of the Synagogue, but there they are apparently not in the front rows: there are people there whose activity makes them barely noticeable, and sometimes completely unnoticeable.

In theological and religious-political disputes, so frequent in the synagogues of the Gospel period, they apparently either take part rarely and unwillingly, or do not take part at all. They do not belong to any religious school and perhaps do not even have what is usually called a religious worldview. They simply trust God, who long ago became the center and meaning of their life, and they live while listening attentively for what he will say to them. Or they pasture their flocks, like the Bethlehem shepherds. Of course, compared with learned theologians they may appear simple people, even, like the shepherds, ignorant. But they will certainly have no problems with the theological interpretation of what they have heard from God. Nor will they have needless doubts about the reliability of what they heard. That is why they are granted to see the Messiah before others. Including those who were sure they would see him first.

Every person knows that someday he will die. Death is a unique phenomenon: it is completely obvious and completely closed to those who have not yet experienced it. God speaks with a person, and that person remains alive. On the basis of this Gospel passage, one can say that a person who speaks with God, not somehow but face to face, receives both life and death: life full of His presence, the light of revelation for all, and death as the fulfillment of the promise, as the possibility of a full and final encounter.