Like Us He Grew

Good morning and a happy first Sunday of Christmas to you!

If that greeting sounds odd, you may not realize that in the liturgical church calendar, Christmas, or Christmastide, is a season that lasts for almost two weeks.

It’s a tradition that dates back to the sixth century, when a church council proclaimed the twelve days from Christmas to Epiphany as a “sacred and festive season,”

Epiphany being the date in January where many churches mark the visit of the Magi, or in other churches the baptism of Jesus.

Twelve days…Christmas until January 6th.

It’s where we get the song “The Twelve Days of Christmas,” and it’s just a good reminder to let the joy of Christmas linger a bit.

The stores may be getting all set up for Valentine’s Day already, but that doesn’t mean we have to.

It’s good to take extended time to sit with the meaning of Christmas, to marvel at the wonder of the incarnation.

God with us. God among us. God one of us.

That’s the heart of Christmas, isn’t it?

That the God of the universe became one of us.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.

We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

I love how Eugene Peterson renders those familiar words from John chapter 1:

The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood.

I wonder how often we take time to really consider the full implications of this truth, that Jesus was fully God and yet fully human.

One thing I’ve noticed is that we tend to focus on one part of this truth depending on the church season.

At Christmastime, we spend a lot of time focusing on the divinity of Christ, the miracle of the incarnation, that the child lying in the manger is the very Son of God.

During Lent and Easter, though, there’s a strong emphasis on the humanity of Christ, as we consider his suffering and the way he identifies with us in it.

Both are needed.

But the truth is, we can’t really separate them.

Jesus is both. Fully human…and fully divine.

It’s a mystery.

One that theologians have tried to understand for centuries, but the reality is that in this life we can never fully grasp what it means.

The only one who ever truly did…was Jesus himself.

And in our gospel reading for today, we see that he understood it even when he was just a boy.

Think about this for a moment: the story we heard from Luke’s gospel a short while ago contains the very first recorded words of Jesus of Nazareth.

Have you ever considered that?

Picture the scene: a huge throng of people in Jerusalem for the Passover.

Including a large group from Nazareth, Jesus’ hometown.

Now I grew up thinking of family trips as being insular events.

Mom and Dad in the front of the car, kids in the back. Stuff like that.

A little nuclear family headed off on an adventure.

But in Jesus’ day, whole groups of family and friends traveled together, especially when heading to Jerusalem for one of the feasts.

So it’s understandable that Mary and Joseph didn’t realize Jesus wasn’t with them until a day into the journey home.

They just assumed he was off with someone else in the crowd.

But when they do realize it, and make their way back to Jerusalem, where do they find twelve-year-old Jesus?

Sitting in the temple, hanging out with the wise teachers of Judaism, listening and asking questions.

And Luke tells us that “all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers.”

Already it’s clear there’s something special about Jesus.

But none of the teachers there would have ever guessed just what that something special was.

They couldn’t have known.

But Jesus knows.

Because when Mary chastises him for making them worry, Jesus answers with a startling statement of self-understanding.

“Why were you searching for me? Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?”

Now there’s a little confusion in translation whether Jesus really said “in my Father’s house” or “about my Father’s business.”

Hit pause on that and we’ll get back to it in a moment.

But for now…let’s sit with the realization that Jesus’ first recorded words…are a claim to relationship.

With Almighty God.

And not just a friendship with God, like Moses or Abraham.

He is claiming…sonship.

There is no parallel for this anywhere in the Jewish scriptures, no place where an individual speaks this personally to God and calls him “Father.”

Jesus knows who he is.

And he knows where his life is meant to be centered.

This is where we get to the translation question.

It’s a little thing called “not having a noun in your sentence,” which sometimes happens in Greek.

Thanks, Luke. One more thing to add to my list of questions I can’t wait to ask.

The Greek here literally reads “in the of my father it is necessary for me to be.”

No noun. Just “the.”

So the question for translators is, “what is the ‘the’?”

Is Jesus saying “the house of my Father,” or “the things of my Father?”

I would argue that it doesn’t really matter, because they both ultimately point to the same thing.

In fact, I kind of like the ambiguity.

It’s like Jesus is saying, “You know what? If it’s of my Father, that’s where I’m meant to be.”

He sees himself as rooted in his Father’s will, and centered in his Father’s presence.

That’s what the temple represents, after all.

It represents the presence of God, the place where God dwells.

…and the work of God, the things that God is doing.

Jesus is saying, “That’s where you’re going to find me.”

In the presence of my Father, and in the work of my Father.

Twelve years old, and he understands this already.

And yet…

And yet, there is something interesting as this story draws to a close that I think is worth nothing.

After letting us know that Joseph and Mary didn’t really understand what Jesus meant…and again, we can’t blame them for not fully grasping the nuances of the incarnation, can we?

After that, Luke writes this:

Then he went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them. His mother treasured all these things in her heart.

Then these fascinating words:

And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor.

Hear that again:

And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor.

Peterson puts it this way:

And Jesus matured, growing up in both body and spirit, blessed by both God and people.

Here’s why I find this remarkable:

Luke has just shared with us this story about young Jesus demonstrating self-awareness and wisdom far beyond his years, really…far beyond human understanding.

But then he goes on to tell us that this same incredibly wise and knowledgeable Jesus…

…grew.

Not just in body, but in wisdom and spirit.

I’m kind of flabbergasted by that, to be honest.

I think there’s a part of me that always assumed that from this point on, Jesus was pretty much good to go.

He was the Son of God, after all.

The complete power and knowledge of the universe at his disposal, right?

He was just biding his time, waiting for the cue to start his ministry.

Which, let’s remember, is still 18 years down the road.

But Luke tells us that Jesus didn’t just “bide his time.”

He lets us know that Jesus uses that time to become more and more the person…the Messiah…that he was sent to Earth to be.

He grew…in wisdom and stature.

“Once in Royal David’s City” echoes this truth, doesn’t it?

For he is our childhood's pattern

Day by day…like us He grew

I don’t think that verse is just referring to losing baby teeth and getting taller.

And recently, as I pondered this verse in Luke chapter 2, a question popped into my head.

I can only assume it was the Holy Spirit elbowing me a little bit as he pointed something out.

“Hey Jack…if Jesus, the Son of God himself, needed to grow in wisdom, how much more do you need to do the same?”

Because, truth be told, I sometimes am tempted to think, especially as I’ve entered fully-formed adulthood…supposedly…

…I’m tempted to think I’ve pretty much learned everything I’m going to learn.

(wave off) Everything else is just…nuance.

But that’s not true, is it?

There’s a great story about a famous composing and cellist back in the early 20th century named Pablo Casals.

When he was 95 years old, and he was still composing and playing, someone asked him why he continued to practice the cello 6 hours a day.

His reply?

“Because I think I’m making progress.”

(PAUSE)

There’s great danger in feeling like we’ve “arrived” isn’t there?

Especially in our faith.

Think of all the times in the New Testament that believers in Jesus are encouraged to keep growing.

And notice the kinds of things that are often linked to spiritual growth in those Scriptures.

Like when Paul commends the Thessalonians for their spiritual growth, he says:

Your faith is growing more and more, and the love all of you have for one another is increasing.

Their faith is growing…and as a result, their love is growing.

Or in the book of Hebrews, when the author encourages those reading to crave the solid food of spiritual maturity, which will enable followers of Jesus to become teachers, and to discern good from evil.

Or think of Paul’s great passage in Philippians 3, when he lays out his resume as a learned, wise teacher of the Jews, and then he says:

“Throw it all in the trash!”

Why?

Because he realizes that the only thing worth pursuing is greater and greater knowledge of who Jesus is and the righteousness that comes through faith in him.

And then Paul says this:

Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

Paul knew he still had a long way to go.

We all do, no matter where we are in our Christian walk.

Whether we’ve known Jesus a few days or a number of decades, there is always an invitation to grow.

When I was younger, I was blessed to know my Great Uncle Jim from Sullivan, Indiana.

He actually made it possible for me to go to seminary, for which I will always be grateful.

When he passed away, I was thankful to receive one of his Bibles, and when I opened it, I saw the most remarkable thing.

He had marked on every page the dates that he had read each passage of Scripture.

And I’ll tell you…next to each passage there were multiple dates recorded, some well into his later years.

And those who knew Jim Brown from Sullivan, Indiana would tell you, he reflected the love of Christ and the presence of God to everyone he met.

So as we enter a new year, I’d like to put a little challenge out there for you:

In the midst of everything that 2022 might hold, good or bad, how might you pursue growth this year as a follower of Jesus Christ?

How will you respond to God’s invitation to go even deeper in your faith?

Let me offer a suggestion to you, if I may.

And it goes back to our Greek translation question.

Jesus knew his identity as a child of God, and now by faith, we too, are adopted in as his sons and daughters.

And the same truth that Jesus understood about himself applies to us as well:

“In the…of my Father, it is necessary for me to be.”

Here’s what I suggest:

For each of us, in our particular season of faith, the missing noun might be a bit different.

Maybe for you, it’s a commitment to ground yourself more and more in Scripture:

“In the word of my Father…that’s where I need to be.”

Or maybe it is about the house of God, more specifically the presence of God and his people.

“In the presence of my Father…that’s where I need to be.”

Or perhaps for you this year, it’s about embracing more and more the purposes God has for you:

“In the work of my Father…that’s where I need to be.”

There are so many possibilities, and they all work together in this wonderful mosaic of the body of Christ…to ultimately bring him glory and honor as we grow.

So as I wrap up this morning, I’m going to invite you into a time of silent prayer a time to think about…what noun God would have you embrace for 2022.

What area of your Christian walk might he be inviting you to be more intentional about in this new year.

Now a quick word of warning:

This isn’t about making a new years’ resolution, at least not in the common understanding.

It’s not about resolving to read the Bible cover to cover in 2022, although you may end up doing that.

It’s not about embracing a more fervent commitment to daily prayer or service, although those might factor in as well.

If you’re going to think about this as a resolution, I’d encourage you to think about it like this:

“I resolve in 2022 to grow more as a follower of Jesus.”

And as you think about a potential area of growth, don’t get all legalistic about it.

Legalism strangles growth.

Instead…see it all as invitation.

The God of the universe, who loves you and sent his son to earth for you, is asking you…to draw near.

How will you respond?