We don’t like not knowing what’s coming, do we? It makes us feel like we’re not in control, like we can’t adequately prepare, and it’s scary. Even if things wind up turning out just fine, it doesn’t change the uncertainty that we’re facing right now, and the fear and anxiety that comes with it. But don’t worry; this isn’t some sort of personal flaw. As it turns out, it’s a very human experience, and no one is immune to it – not even the Holy Family. Today’s Scripture reading does have a happy ending, but Mary and Joseph have to go through a whole lot of uncertainty and anxiety to get there.
In order to understand the true depth of their apprehension, consider the context surrounding these events. Given that this is the first and only account we have of a young Jesus, I expect that his childhood was otherwise unremarkable in every way. Surely, toddler Jesus and kid Jesus got up to some hijinks (he WAS fully human, after all) but nothing particularly unusual or especially concerning. I’m sure he learned and grew under the watchful eyes of his parents, just like every other child in all of human history. Mary and Joseph would have known irritation, amusement, exhaustion, and joy in raising their son, but probably nothing especially traumatic when it came to Jesus’ childhood.
Scripture tells us that “each year,” the Holy Family went to Jerusalem for the Passover Festival, “according to their custom”. It makes a point to mention this pattern of attendance twice, emphasizing the routine nature of the trip. The family had made the same journey eleven times previously without incident, always among family and friends, so Mary and Joseph had absolutely no reason to expect that anything would go wrong this time. All this, combined with their experience of Jesus as a typical child, meant that they were completely unprepared for what happened next.
All of a sudden, with their realization that Jesus was no longer with them, Mary and Joseph were thrust into the unknown with no way to prepare for it. Where was their son? How could they have lost track of him? How long had he been missing? How had nobody noticed? Was he okay? Why was this happening? Yet as they searched frantically for their son over the course of three full days, they found no answers, only a new, unfamiliar anxiety that grew exponentially with each passing moment.
We, too, find ourselves with a flood of unanswerable questions as we face down the barrel of this new year. How will we be able to afford housing and health care as costs continue to rise? Where will the next act of mass violence happen, and when will it be? Are we facing another potential pandemic with the H5N1 virus? Will our nation’s fractured leadership actually be able to accomplish anything to help us? Why is it so hard for so many people to have compassion for others? What can we do to prepare ourselves for any of this?
Now, I’m not trying to suggest that everything has been hunky-dory for us up until this very moment – God knows that life in the U.S. has been chaotic and unpredictable for the better part of at least ten years, maybe even going all the way back to 9/11 or possibly even further. But in so many ways, it feels like everything is coming to a head right now. Like there are more unknowns than there normally are. Like our ability to carry on as usual is being pushed beyond capacity. Like everything could be falling apart around us.
Our feelings at the cusp of this new year probably parallel some of the ones that Mary and Joseph would have been experiencing during their three days of searching for Jesus. Panic… anger… alarm… dread… helplessness… maybe even some guilt and self-doubt. We might feel like shouting at our friends, family, fellow citizens, representatives, even Godself, using the same anguished words that Mary cried out upon finally finding her adolescent son: “Why have you treated us like this?” What did we do to deserve this? Why have you subjected us to all this worry, all this fear, all this uncertainty and pain? Why couldn’t you have told us what was going on?
Yet notice that Jesus doesn’t respond to Mary’s accusatory question with justifications or apologies, although that’s probably what his parents expected. Instead, he responds with questions of his own – questions that somehow convey a certainty that eludes the average 12-year-old: “Why were you looking for me? Didn’t you know that it was necessary for me to be in my Father’s house?” In other words, this is where I belong. I knew where I needed to be, even if you didn’t. I know you wish you understood, but you don’t have to worry – I’m doing what I’m meant to do, even when you’re not right there with me.
Our fear of the unknown is ALWAYS met with Jesus’ certainty. Not certainty of a secret knowledge that we lack and desperately crave, but certainty that God’s plan, whatever it may turn out to be, cannot be deterred. He may not offer us answers to the specific questions that keep us up at night, but despite our uncertainty, Jesus knows where HE needs to be – and nothing, not our need for control or our lack of trust or our fear, will stop him from being there. We may not like it, but that’s good news.
Now, this doesn’t necessarily mean that Jesus is working to fix everything for us deus ex machina – almost certainly not. Finding their son didn’t undo all the worry that Mary and Joseph experienced. And it absolutely didn’t shield them from the grief that was to come. Odds are that the things we’re worried about at the beginning of this year won’t simply evaporate by its end – in fact, we may find ourselves facing even more troubles next January. But Jesus assures us that even when we feel mentally, emotionally, and spiritually lost, GOD will always be exactly where God needs to be, without fail, doing what God needs to do. Which means that no matter how bad things may get for us, the kindom of heaven is still coming – thanks be to God.
We may not understand in the moment – we may never understand – but we don’t have to. We just have to trust God and do the next right thing. Mary and Joseph didn't know exactly what lay ahead of them as the earthly parents of a divine child, but they carried on in faith anyway. They didn’t hide their son away to protect themselves from the same kind of anxiety and pain they experienced that day in Jerusalem. They didn’t stop parenting out of fear that they’d do something wrong. They continued to raise Jesus the best they knew how, teaching him to love God and allowing his relationship with other people to blossom for the sake of God’s plan. Even though Mary didn’t fully understand all that had happened and all that was to come, she took all of her experiences raising Jesus to heart, and she trusted.
Tomorrow is Epiphany, when we celebrate another group of people who carried on in faith despite not knowing or understanding what lay ahead of them: the Magi. They traveled from far-off realms in the east (WITHOUT the benefit of Uber!) to honor the infant king of a people that wasn’t theirs. They didn’t know where they were headed (they had to stop and ask for directions from King Herod!) and the trip across unpopulated desert lands was long and treacherous – it could have taken them up to two years to make the trek. Still, they carried on in faith, trusting the star to guide them to where they needed to be.
We, too, have to carry on as we face the unknown. We know that God is where God needs to be, so we have to figure out where WE need to be, what WE need to do. One of the ways that this community does that is by choosing a Star Word. The word you select isn’t meant to give you answers; it’s a way to help you focus your listening to the Holy Spirit. How might God be trying to speak to you through your word? Where might God be calling you to in the coming year? Follow your star in faith, like the Magi, to find out where it takes you – even into the unknown. It may be scary, but you are not alone. Jesus is always where he needs to be – and if you need him with you, then he’ll be there.
With their experience in Jerusalem, Mary and Joseph entered a new stage of parenthood, one that they probably didn’t feel ready to face – the stage where their son began to live into his divinity. Of all the possible unknowns, this is probably the greatest: no other parent in all of human history has had to navigate this same path. As for us, our society is facing the next stage of our common life; who knows what it will bring? Only God. Isn’t it fortunate, then, that God has plans in mind for us, plans for peace, not disaster, to give us a future filled with hope.* Jesus is always exactly where he needs to be for these plans to come to fruition. As we enter 2025, we have to ask ourselves: will we be? Amen.
---------------------------------------------
* Jeremiah 29:11, CEB. A prophesy to the troubled exiles in Babylon.
No comments:
Post a Comment