EVERY YEAR HIS parents went to Jerusalem for the Feast of the Passover. 42When he was twelve years old, they went up to the Feast, according to the custom. 43After the Feast was over, while his parents were returning home, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but they were unaware of it. 44Thinking he was in their company, they traveled on for a day. Then they began looking for him among their relatives and friends. 45When they did not find him, they went back to Jerusalem to look for him. 46After three days they found him in the temple courts, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. 47Everyone who heard him was amazed at his understanding and his answers. 48When his parents saw him, they were astonished. His mother said to him, “Son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you.”
49“Why were you searching for me?” he asked. “Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?” 50But they did not understand what he was saying to them.
51Then he went down to Nazareth with them and was obedient to them. But his mother treasured all these things in her heart. 52And Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men.
Original Meaning
TECHNICALLY THIS EVENT is not an infancy story, since Jesus is twelve years old, one year away from accountability as a Jewish boy.1 But in literary terms, since the close of the passage in verse 52 parallels that in verse 40, this unit is a part of the introduction to Jesus. This account is his initial testimony to himself, a fitting close to a section where various people have been speaking about him.
The annual trip for the Passover was one of the highlights of the Jewish year, one of three annual festivals that were celebrated in the capital (Ex. 23:14–17; 34:22–23; Deut. 16:16; Tabernacles and Pentecost were the other two). Most families that lived some distance from Jerusalem, such as Jesus’ parents, went to only one feast a year. Passover fell in the Jewish month of Nisan (late March and early April). The feast celebrated the birth of Israel’s freedom at the Exodus (Ex. 12). Men were required to attend, but women were not (m. Hagigah 1.1), so Mary’s going shows the depth of the family’s piety. The trip from Nazareth normally took three days. People traveled in caravans for protection. We do not know if men and women and children were separated during the journey.
On this particular occasion, Jesus remains behind in Jerusalem. Only after a day’s travel do his parents discover he is not with the group, for they do not find him with relatives. They undoubtedly assumed Jesus was somewhere in the throng, though the text itself does not explain how he could go unmissed for a day. By the time they find their son, he has been missing for three days—one day out with the caravan, another day back, and one day looking for him. They discover Jesus among the teachers in the temple, listening to them, asking questions, and giving reply. In that day, it was not unusual for students to gather at the feet of the rabbis to discuss theology, often in a question-and-answer discussion format.2 Even at this young age Jesus has amazing knowledge of the things of God. In fact, those listening to him are astonished at his understanding, a reaction that will occur later to Jesus’ miraculous work (8:56). Already early in life Jesus values the pursuit of comprehending God, as he increases “in wisdom and stature” (2:52). His approach to knowing God and seeking understanding pictures how we should pursue the same, even at a young age.
Any parent reading this account understands what happens next. Jesus’ parents are overwhelmed by what has taken place and move to recover their son. A frustrated mother asks her budding adolescent how he could have behaved this way, leaving his parents with a major anxiety attack (odynomenoi, v. 48). This term refers to deep mental anguish and pain (16:24–25; Acts 20:38).
Jesus’ reply is just as direct: “I must be about the … of my Father” (lit. trans.). This elliptical saying has been variously understood. The NIV’s rendering about being “in my Father’s house,” is the preferred way to render this idiom.3 Jesus’ point is that his career must be about instruction on the way of God, for the temple was not only a place of worship, but was also a place of teaching. Jesus has a call to instruct the nation. Though he is twelve now, a day is coming when this will be his priority.
The reference to his Father is also crucial, since it infers an intimate personal relationship to God that drives him (cf. 10:21–22). Early on Jesus understands that he is called to do his Father’s work. By saying “I had to be,” Jesus begins to undertake such a path, a route that one day will mean he will go his own way. Luke loves to mark key sayings with dei (“it is necessary”) to show the presence of the fulfillment of God’s plan (4:4; 9:22; 13:33; 17:25; 19:5; 22:37; 24:7, 26, 44). Here is the high point of the infancy narrative, as Jesus explains his call in his own words. In the meantime, he is obedient to his parents.
All Mary can do is ponder such events in her heart, something Luke’s reader is to do also. We should recall that Jesus makes it clear that those who know God have, in a sense, two families—the biological one in which God has placed them and the spiritual one they have because they know him.
Bridging Contexts
THIS PORTRAIT OF Jesus reflects his own self-understanding. Here is a case where dialogue reveals the main point of a passage. Like many texts in the Gospels, this is called a pronouncement account, where the key to the passage is found in a decisive pronouncement near the end of the story.
What was true of Jesus during his New Testament ministry in terms of pursuing God’s call is true of him today. He is still about the things of his Father, seated at God’s right hand in heaven, interceding for us, and watching over us. His unique call and relationship to God reveal why his ministry was so special. His special access to God means that Jesus is not merely a prophet or great teacher, but the one who proclaims and brings the way of God. As the Son, he is more than an ethicist or a venerated religious figure. He is unique. At times his ways are unusual, but that is but a sign of his authority.
But Jesus’ ministry also has its proper timing, so Jesus will wait to launch what he is destined to do. He is not impatient about starting his ministry and will wait until the time is right. He must, of course, wait for the forerunner before beginning his own task. Thus, the next chapter in Luke records the ministry of John the Baptist some seventeen years later. Jesus does not seek to run ahead of God or drag his feet behind his timing; rather, he seeks only to do what God calls him to do, when God calls him to do it. The best timing is God’s timing. We too must be about God’s will, seeking his timing.
Jesus’ attitudes about his walk with God, his call to serve him, and his pursuit of intimacy with him are not a product of his unique sonship with God. They picture how all of us should prioritize our lives before God. Sometimes we have to make choices that others do not understand, for God has called us to set priorities that differ from people who go through life without any reference to him. Granted that Jesus was a unique person with unique gifts, yet the way he lived his life and pursued God faithfully reflects how we should seek God’s face. Time spent before him “in the temple” or at his feet “in the Word” or using our hands “in ministry” may not be understood by people with a different set of priorities. Sometimes our choices will be difficult, as we are perhaps not where others would like us be. Tensions between secular commitments to our job and making time available for ministry may lead some to misunderstand why we do what we do. This comes with the territory of a walk with God. God calls us, like Jesus, to be active and prepare ourselves for service with others.
Contemporary Significance
IN A REAL sense the reader is in a similar dilemma as the one Jesus’ parents faced. Who is Jesus, and is his authority such that even the most basic human relationships, like the parent-child relationship, are transcended? We can identify with Joseph and Mary’s response to Jesus in this incident. Yet the issue he raises in his reply is that the unique call he possesses and the unique relationship to God he has makes his parents’ indirect rebuke of him irrelevant. Jesus transcends normal categories of evaluation. At least that is the realization Luke sets before the reader. As with many texts in this Gospel, the basic question is: What do you think of Jesus’ authority? Will you respond or reject his claims? Our relationship to God is determined by this response, since this unique One is so closely related to him.
There is another key implication here. The world tells us to treat Jesus as one great religious figure among many in history. Luke does not give us that option. Rather, as the unique Son, Jesus has exclusive rights to reveal the way of God, and one either accepts or rejects that revelation. If Jesus says he is the way (John 14:6), then either he is or he is not; there are no other options. C. S. Lewis is known for allowing only three options about Jesus: Liar, Lunatic, or Lord. In fact, the discussion really boils down to two: Either he is the Son or he is not. Jesus does not leave the world the option of merely ranking him among the religious greats of history. He is either much more or much less. Luke’s Gospel is committed to showing he is much more.
Many contemporary portraits of Jesus view him too much as a modern man, concerned about individual freedom or self-fulfillment. I am reminded of the film The Last Temptation of Jesus, which caused such a furor a few years ago because it tried to portray Jesus in strictly human terms. The problem, however, was not the attempt to wrestle with Jesus’ humanity, but the assumption that he shared struggles of personal actualization like those many talk shows discuss today. This cheapened the depth of the human dimension to Jesus. Jesus displayed a humanity that resisted the temptation to selfishness that often plagues humanity, an approach to life that takes far more discipline than simply giving in to self. Jesus was unique not only in his divinity but also in his humanity, namely, in his ability to focus on and carry out God’s will in his life.
Sometimes Jesus did things that were surprising, which did not fit the custom of the time. Yet in his authority he had the right to do things differently. Jesus’ departure as a twelve-year-old to discuss divine things in the temple was a problem for his parents and for the culture of that day. But sometimes Jesus leads us into seeing God do surprising things in the context of the culture—not by rewriting moral values, but by calling us to creativity in issues of style and approach to God’s Word.
Sometimes God has us consider initially surprising things as we pursue service to him. For this reason, efforts to create times of worship in church that are seeker-friendly need not be rejected, if the church decides as a community that she is going to use her time together for evangelism as well as nurture. The thing to watch in such a move is that the church ministry does not become so seeker-friendly that nurture of believers is ignored. There may also be times when legitimate discussion may center on the style and tone of worship, the music in the service, or what kinds of ministries we might engage in. Sometimes a fresh way of doing ministry is not a matter of right and wrong but of determining clearly what kind of ministry we will have. On other occasions, other probing questions may need our attention. Are perhaps some ministries better supported through offering aid to existing parachurch ministries, rather than reduplicating an existing ministry?
Sometimes the church needs to be “unleashed” to see its ministry extending not to what takes place within its walls, but through what its members do outside its walls.4 Luke 2:42–52 is the first of several units where Jesus “stretches the envelope” of common practice to reveal that God is at work in a fresh way. Jesus must teach the things of God, and so must the church. Such teaching should be creative in whom it approaches and how it is given. Jesus is in the temple here, but later he will be among those who need to hear the Word and will share it with them. His call to be in the temple is a recognition that he will be in the public square, sharing the Word with all people, since the temple was one of the most public locales of ancient Judaism. One of the dangers for the church is that in her commitment to being God’s people, she isolates her teaching to inside the walls of the church.
The church must be “envelope stretching” in its efforts to preach the Word. In our church community, for example, one men’s fellowship group, seeking to minister to others in the body, held a “maintenance ministry” for widows and single mothers in the church. They changed the oil in their cars, looked them over, and offered to do any heavy moving work that needed to be done. Needless to say, this unusual ministry of help was well received. Other fellowship groups in our community have undertaken to minister in some of the food shelters in the city. Our church does not try to tell small groups how they should operate by giving them only one program to follow. One must be in the house of God to get the strength and resources for mission, but one need not stay there to perform it.
In moving from Jesus to us, the text also suggests another common tension: the choice between community and family tensions. Prioritizing God, family, and ministry is not always easy. I remember a discussion with a great Latin American saint who shared that when he was in seminary years ago, he lived in one country while his wife was at home in another country. As they were expecting a child, this student faced a dilemma. The seminary had an attendance requirement, but the student wanted to go home to be with his wife and celebrate the arrival of the new child and rejoice at what God was doing in his family. He asked a professor if he could cut class to do this. The professor felt that he owed God the time of his class first and family second; thus, the professor refused the cut. In response, the student said that he would go to be with his wife and accept any consequences, for he felt God wanted him to honor his wife and family; preparation for ministry could face this short hiccup. Though I never found out if the school penalized him (he later became president of that school!), he did say that our institutions are more sensitive to helping students balance ministry and family now.
On the other hand, sometimes we feel guilty if we sense a closeness with believers that does not match what we have with our families, but we need not feel this way. It is only natural in relationships where we share the deepest level of commonality by sharing the same God that we feel a kinship of the soul that we might not have with biological kin. Luke 12:51–53 suggests that a sense of estrangement from family who do not share our faith commitments may result from coming to Jesus. The pangs of of Jesus’ priorities are what Mary and Joseph felt here. It is not unlike the pain some parents feel when children choose to serve God on the mission field or opt to go into ministry instead of into a “real profession.” Sometimes the pain is a helpful reminder that our top priority is to serve God. Sometimes parents may need to let go of their children, because the children are faithfully serving God.
One final application emerges from Jesus’ stop at the temple. Sometimes we think adolescents are beyond useful spiritual reflection, having entered a twilight zone from which they hopefully will emerge in their twenties. I once heard this definition of a teenager: “At fourteen years old, one minute they think you are the greatest father on earth, and the next minute they seriously wonder why God created you! At sixteen, they make a decision, and the choice is not encouraging.” We sometimes treat Jesus as an exception, because he was the Son of God. But Jesus took on humanity to show us how to live and walk with God. Here is a twelve-year-old seeking to know God better. We sometimes underestimate what our children are capable of reflecting on, if encouraged.
When we went to Germany for the first time, my seven-and eight-year-old absorbed German far faster than either my wife or I did. Sometimes it was embarrassing but necessary to hand them the phone so they could translate for us. Teenage years are not necessarily lost years decreed to be spent in exile on Gilligan’s Island. Our children should be encouraged to develop spiritually, whether through their involvement in church or in discussion of topics that matter with their parents and others. Jesus could sit with the rabbis; maybe our children can as well, if we will be sensitive to the potential they have and relate to them at a level to which they can respond.