Feast of the Holy Family, December 26, 2021 – 1 Samuel 1:20-22, 24-28; Colossians 3:12-17; Luke 2:41-52

The very first time that I preached on this gospel, I got myself into really big trouble. I was a deacon, working in Sacred Heart Church in Suffern, New York. We were the very first class of seminarians sent out to work in parishes. We were ordained deacons, and that meant we had the right to preach the gospel, to baptize at solemn ceremonies, and to witness weddings. And, on that particular Sunday, because I was involved with the teen group in the parish, wanting the young people in the church to understand something about the boy, Jesus, I referred to Him in my homily as the rebellious teenage Jesus. And, as soon as I got off the altar, the priest who was celebrating Mass let me have it both barrels. His problem was that, according to all of our scriptures, Jesus was a human being like us, in every way except that He could not sin. And I had just said, from the altar, that Jesus committed a sin because he was a rebellious teenager.

Now, the priest was wrong. He was wrong on two counts. He did not understand adolescent psychology, and he didn’t understand the real meaning of the fourth commandment, “Honor thy father and thy mother.” He simply assumed that any kind of backtalk from a teenager to his parents must be at least a venial sin, and perhaps a mortal sin against the fourth commandment. And, therefore, I had just said from the pulpit that Jesus was a sinner. But it’s really not true. Adolescent psychology tells us that it’s essential for each child to begin to separate from his or her parents as they enter into adolescence. And the mechanics of that separation sometimes result in awkward confrontations between a child and his or her parents. As a matter of fact, that is what we see in the gospel story – that, having said His peace, then Jesus sort of knuckles under. He goes down to Nazareth and is subject to them.

And he didn’t understand the real meaning of the fourth commandment which, when it was created, really had nothing to do with sass and backtalk. It had to do with the terrible, terrible custom among the people of that time of abandoning aged parents, leaving them to the elements to die. A grave, huge sin against humanity.

But I was also wrong, because I did not understand the scripture. And there are two keys to the scripture. The first one is that that church connects it to the story of Hannah and Elkanah, and their little boy, Samuel. And there is a little phrase in the gospel, which I’ll get to in a second, that’s very difficult to translate, but translating it gets us to the heart of the matter.

The story of Hannah and her little boy is a very sad story. I mean, imagine. She and her husband yearned to have a child. She begged God for that child. When God answered her prayers she promised to dedicate the child, if it were a boy child, to the service of the Lord. And here’s this couple that’s wanted a child their whole lives and, after the child is weaned – so, about three years old – his mother takes him and leaves him with a bunch of old men in the temple in Shiloh, to be raised in the house of the Lord. They have no joy from the child they wanted for so long. Neither does the little boy have the joy of playing with other little children. All for the service of the Lord. How very harsh. How very difficult. And the church puts this story as a reflection of the story of Mary and Joseph and Jesus in the temple in Jerusalem when Jesus is twelve years old.

But I said, before I proclaimed the gospel, “Pay close attention to what Jesus says to his mother.” He says, in our translation, “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” Now, those of you who are at least as old as I am remember when that was not the translation. The English translation used to be, “Did you not know that I had to be about my Father’s business.” That sounds sort of strange. The reason why is because, both in Greek and Latin, there is no word in the text for either house or business. It reads like this – you would translate it in literal English – “Did you not know that I had to be about the of my Father.” No noun. “Did you not know that I had to be about the of my Father.”

You know, the mafia used an expression like that. They call what they do for a living “our thing,” without being specific about it. And that’s kind of the Mediterranean phrase that, in Latin and Greek, is found in the book of Luke for what Jesus says. “Did you not know that I had to be about the thing of my Father.” What does that mean? It means that Mary and Joseph do not quite understand what it is their son is called to do.

The reason why Luke tells the story this way is because he intends for it to be like telegraphing what’s going to happen to Jesus in His lifetime. Look at the cast of characters. Who does He spend the time with?  With the leaders in the temple, the scribes and the Pharisees. Listening to them. Answering their questions – how very friendly. Thirty years from now he’s going to wind up in exactly the same position, being accused by the scribes and Pharisees, who will not listen to the answers He has to give them. And how long do Mary and Joseph search for their little boy? Three days. When does three days come up again in the gospel of Luke? When Jesus is buried for three days. And who comes searching for Him after the third day? The faithful women come searching for Him. It’s a telescoping of the death and resurrection of Jesus.

And what’s the last part all about - going down to Nazareth and being subject to Mary and Joseph? It’s about the fact that the risen Lord, against whom so many people have conspired and who allows Himself to be executed for our sake, finally becomes subject to you and me for all eternity. He has made Himself into what? He has made Himself into our Savior, who comes to us in the form of bread and wine, is, therefore, always subject to us, at our disposal, at our beck and call. And He places Himself in danger from us in so many different ways.

This is placed as the next celebration after Christmas to remind us that we’re always in danger of making over the Baby Jesus into what we want Him to be, rather than allowing Jesus, beginning at each Christmas and moving through each year, instead of allowing Jesus to make us into what He wants us to be. That’s the real challenge of Christmas – to let go of our preconceived notions of relationship with God, and let God create and craft relationship with us. That is God’s thing.