I think most parents know what it feels like to lose a child. Or, if you have been careful enough to never lose track of one of your children, then maybe you are familiar with the fear of losing a child. I am one of the many mothers of the world who has lost a child in a public place. I have had the mall on lock-down more than once. I know that feeling of panic that comes the moment you realize your child is not with you. But I cannot imagine what it would be like to feel this way for three days.
Three days they searched in Jerusalem, a city packed with Jews from all over the diaspora, on pilgrimage for the festival of the Passover. Three days he was on his own in a city that was not his home, an unfamiliar place. Three days Mary and Joseph did not know if their son was alive, didn’t know if he was safe.
And then, that moment when you find your child, you breathe a sigh of relief, and say, “Thank God you’re alive, you’re safe. I’m going to kill you.”
For Mary, this would be one of those moments she would simply hold, treasure, ponder in her heart. Mary would have many moments and days when she would need to withhold judgment and sit with the wonder and mystery of it all. It had been that way for Mary from the very beginning.
When the Angel Gabriel first came to her; when the shepherds came at his birth and told her everything the angels had said to them – that the child in the manger was a Savior, the Messiah, the Lord. And Mary treasured these words in her heart.
When Mary and Joseph carried Jesus to the temple on the eighth day for the rite of circumcision, and they were approached by Simeon and Anna – two individuals who were near the end of their lives, greeting the newborn Messiah with words of prophecy and worship. A recognition that one age was ending and a new age was beginning. And Mary treasured these things in her heart.
And now, 12 years later, her son is on the threshold of becoming a man. He is figuring out who he is, who he will be, as all children do. He is discovering that his identity is tied in with the temple, perhaps more than for other Jewish boys.
He is drawn to the temple, and while his family and their neighbors who have traveled up to Jerusalem together, are doing other things, he wanders into a quiet area of the temple to converse with the rabbis, ask them his questions. And, as they soon discover, he is not so much a student as he is a teacher to the teachers. They are amazed by his understanding. I wonder: do they, in their amazement, know that he is the one they have been waiting for, searching for?
In the meantime, the caravan from Nazareth are gathering up their belongings and getting ready for their journey back home. Men pack up the donkeys, women pack food for the trip, older girls corral the younger children, and they begin the long walk home.
A day later, Mary and Joseph notice that their son is missing.
I don’t want to fault them for not noticing sooner. I have seen the film Home Alone. You are bound to overlook something when things get chaotic. Besides, I am sure all the children were playing together as they traveled. Mary and Joseph just assumed that Jesus was among them.
But when they did notice, they became frantic and headed back toward Jerusalem. Evidently, they looked in a lot of places before the temple. Where would you look for your lost child? Maybe Jesus made some Jerusalem buddies while they were there, so they checked with those families first. Maybe there were some vendors that were particularly attractive to a boy, and they would have looked there.
When they finally went to the temple, maybe they weren’t even expecting to find him. But there he was, sitting among the teachers like this was the most typical thing in the world for a 12-year-old boy to do.
My sister Katie was prone to wandering away and managed to get lost many times before she turned ten. Once in a department store, my mother arrived in the security office, harried, tired and frantic, to find her child sitting in a chair eating candy, happy as can be. And Katie said, “Mama, why did you lose me?”
Jesus looked at Mary and Joseph, harried, tired and frantic after a three-day search, and said to them, “Abba! Eema! Why didn’t you know where I was?”
Why didn’t you know where to find me? Did you not know I would be in my father’s house?
And they did not understand this. And Mary added these things to all that she held and pondered and treasured in her heart.
That treasure in Mary’s heart would continue to grow over the years to come. It would grow to seem more like a burden, an anguish, than a treasure for Mary. But she was always there, nearby, watching and listening and taking it in. I don’t think Mary ever stopped watching and searching for him – this child she had birthed; this Savior, Messiah, Lord.
In this way, perhaps we have something in common with Mary.
We have heard the prophecies, like Mary did, Anna, Simeon, and all the others. We have heard the angels sing, like Mary did. We have heard the crowds calling to him, crying out, “Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me!” just as Mary would in years to come. So we, like Mary, keep on searching for him.
Like Mary, we are also on a journey, searching for Jesus. Because he has promised to be with us always, giving us that peace he promised, guiding us and giving us hope. Yet much of the time we are not sure where to find him.
Are you searching for Jesus? Longing to be near to him, see him, know him? And do you too often feel that he is just beyond your sight, your grasp? I think of the song from the old musical Godspell, Day by Day.
O, dear Lord, three things I pray: to see thee more clearly, love thee more dearly, follow thee more nearly, day by day.
And yet that nearness is elusive.
I turn to the Gospel of Matthew for guidance here, because Matthew’s gospel was written for just this. Matthew wrote for a first-century group of Jesus following Jews who were trying to figure out how to be a community of faith. They had recently been cut off from the Jewish synagogues, which was like being kicked out of the house, disowned by their family. They were like religious orphans, and Matthew shared some words and episodes from Jesus’ life with a particular intent of guiding them in forming the church.
Jesus says many things in this gospel that helped to shape the church as they established their new identity; in many ways it is like an operational manual. But one thing he said might be particularly incisive today: that where two or three are gathered together in his name, he will be there among them. We may find him most completely among a community of believers.
And this is no insignificant thing today. As quite a few people are wondering: why bother to go to church? What can I get there that I can’t find somewhere else? What is the point?
These are fair questions. We live in a very busy world, where there are a great many opportunities competing for our time. There are a whole host of reasons why I might skip church. Can you give me one good reason why I should go?
And the reason Jesus gives us is this: I will be there with you.
In a community of the faithful, we will find Jesus. He will be here consoling us, enlightening us, strengthening us. He will be here on the good days, but even more he will be here in the most difficult of days. He will guide us through the sometimes choppy seas of being in community together, helping us find the right things to say and do. He will be here to surprise us and challenge us and give us peace. All of this.
And there will be moments that you will find yourself just holding it, pondering it, in your heart. Because it is a great mystery how love can be so profound even in the midst of pain. It is a great mystery how we can draw on the communal strength and persevere through difficulties, how we can find joy in it.
May you find Jesus in our midst – as we serve our neighbors together, as we welcome strangers together, as we learn together, as we eat and play and laugh together, and as we worship together.
