Connected Christianity

The story in Luke 2:41-52 is an odd one. First of all, it is incredibly unique because it’s the only New Testament story about Jesus after his birth and before his adult baptism. More remarkable than its uniqueness, in my opinion, is how unexplainable it is. The story starts out normal enough: a child and his parents go to Jerusalem for the Passover Feast like they do every year. But when the feast was over, that’s when things get weird.

The main question everyone asks when they read this passage is “How could Mary and Joseph leave their son behind?!” Good question. Most answers you find say things about how people traveled in large groups back then for safety, and the males were separate from the females, so both Mary and Joseph could have assumed he was elsewhere yet still with them. I suppose that’s reasonable enough, but still, to just leave town without at least making sure your kid was somewhere in the group? That’s just weird.

And what about Jesus? He was 12 years old and definitely should have been responsible enough to know that he should be in his parents’ caravan when they left town. It’s not like he wouldn’t have known when the feast was over or when they’d be leaving. But on the day everyone’s supposed to leave, he doesn’t go with them, he stays behind. Granted, he’s the Son of God so things are a little different for him than other kids. I can understand the need to parley with the teachers of Scripture. But to not let your parents know where you were when you knew they expected you to leave town with them? That’s just plain irresponsible. Although, despite his divinity, Jesus was still 12 years old, an age notorious for its irresponsibility and being oblivious to what else is going on.

When Mary and Joseph finally find him after three days of anxious searching, his justification is, “Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?” (Lk 2:49). I can see Joseph saying, “No, son, we didn’t know. We crazily assumed you’d know to come home with us when the feast was over like we do every single year!” I think Luke’s remark, “They did not understand what he was saying to them” (2:50) is an understatement.

Reading this passage makes me ask a lot of questions. While we can come up with answers that address the issues, the questions are never fully satisfied, so I keep asking them. Although, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, that’s what Jesus was doing with the teachers in the temple when his parents found him–he was “listening to them and asking them questions” (2:46). I find that encouraging. What would Jesus do? Ask questions. That seems to bless the act of asking questioning–to sanctify it almost, like a holy rite. The next time you find yourself asking questions about God and life, be encouraged by the fact that Jesus did the same thing.