Christmas 1, Year C
Text: Luke 2:41-52
After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. (Luke 2:46-47)
Those of you who are teachers may hear this passage and say, “Ah! A gifted child.” If you’ve known a gifted child—or if you were a gifted child—you know it’s a mixed blessing.
We don’t quite know what to do with a gifted child. Some schools have special programs for them—specially enriched to challenge the brightest children, to stave off the boredom of having to slow down to stay in the crowd with their average peers.
But then what?
If we carry enrichment and separation too far, we risk fostering a pampered intellectual elite. They may be clever, but socially inept. Or odd. And in the long run, turn out to be unsuccessful, or unhappy, or both.
If we minimize enrichment so they can be “normal” kids, then they may fail to achieve their potential. Educators and parents try to find the right balance. School boards and administrators have to make difficult educational and political judgments. In these times of tight budgets, “gifted” programs may feel the pinch, even as art and music programs do.
Let’s take these questions one step further. Suppose that you have a child who is a genius or a prodigy. The two are not exactly the same, but they are close. A prodigy can do amazing things at a very early age—playing and writing music (as with Mozart), or becoming an expert at chess, or mathematics. A genius is a gifted child or adult, but at a higher level of intelligence than the merely gifted.
Over all these questions hangs a thick fog: the hopes and wishes of parents who just know that their children are unusually bright. Such parents wait for teachers and school counsellors to recognize that fact, and if that recognition is not forthcoming, these same parents then call for justice for their child.
In a competitive world, where talent can make all the difference, it is not surprising that parents who want the best for their child would go to such lengths. Alas, children are not made gifted simply by their parents’ opinion.
I’ve put these thoughts before you because our gospel text for today is Luke’s story of Jesus in the temple when he was 12 years old, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking questions. This story makes us wonder:
Was the boy Jesus a gifted child? Precocious?
Was he a spiritual genius, or prodigy?
What is the importance of this story for us?
There’s a particular theological perspective on Jesus which would reject these questions altogether, saying they are denials of Jesus’ divinity.
Such a perspective argues this: If Jesus was truly and fully God, as the tradition of the church has claimed, surely he would already know everything—even at age 12.
If that’s so, the conversation with the child Jesus in the temple was only a startling demonstration of his divinity at an early age. He might seem like a spiritual prodigy, but he was really just God being God, only in the body of a 12-year-old Jewish carpenter’s son.
I say that theological perspective simply will not do. For the church has insisted that not only was Jesus Christ fully divine, but also that he was fully human. Full humanity would mean that he was not only born in a human manner, but that he grew and matured like every other child.
As a bright teenager in a Confirmation class once said to me, “For God to become fully human would mean that the unlimited God somehow had to become limited.”
A brilliant observation! Maybe that teenager was a sort of prodigy herself!
Limitation is, let’s face it, a condition of our humanity. In fact, it’s one of the things that defines our humanity.
So Jesus must have passed through all the normal stages of development as understood by modern disciplines like psychology and education. Bearing that in mind, it is indeed appropriate to ask what kind of 12-year-old he was—and what the story in the temple means to teach us.
The answer to the first question (“What kind of child was he?”) is more difficult than the second. Mostly, all we have is a “we don’t really know” kind of answer. There are many puzzles.
Luke is the only gospel writer to tell this story. Other stories about Jesus’ childhood appeared in later “gospels,” but these books did not make it into the Bible; for all their charm, they were judged to be too fanciful (or too weird) to be regarded as Scripture.
On top of that, stories of precocious children who grew up to be heroic figures were widespread in other religions of that time.
That is why I say, mostly, we don’t really know what kind of religious genius or prodigy Jesus might have been.
We can guess that he was different. Not many 12-year-old boys would have initiated a chat with the learned rabbis. Perhaps he was a mix of the brash and the brilliant.
The answer to the second question (“What does this story mean to us?”) is just a bit easier to make out. I think the story is meant to point out Jesus’ emerging identity—his emerging awareness of his vocation. His vocation as one who must be in God’s house; one who must be undertaking God’s business; one who must do his Father’s will.
Still too fanciful, you may think? Maybe. Maybe not.
All children wonder about what they will become, imagine themselves doing something wonderful, something heroic. And by the age of 12—particularly for the gifted—this wondering may already be taking a definite direction.
Can you remember your 12-year-old wonderings? Mine were focused (believe it or not) around becoming a veterinarian. Unfortunately, I turned out to have no aptitude whatsoever for math or science.
For Jesus, though, his emerging vocational identity at 12—as depicted in this story—is that of becoming a learned rabbi, or teacher, which is indeed what he became.
One becomes a teacher by studying the texts, the ancient traditions; by engaging in discussion with those more learned; by asking questions; by trying out one’s own emerging answers with them. One becomes a teacher by explaining and listening and studying—and going over it all again.
As followers of Jesus in this new millennium, we claim him as our teacher. We want to learn from him. We want to engage him with our questions and answers, as he did the teachers in the temple. We seek his gifts of learning and teaching, that they might be our own.
But there is more to it than that. As followers of Jesus in every age have discovered, we are not merely gifted with teaching, but with a new identity, with a vocation that embraces all of life.
Unlike the giftedness of a select few geniuses or prodigies, all who are in Christ—all of us—are gifted with the identity, with the vocation of Jesus Christ himself. We are called—all of us—to his ministry of preaching and teaching, of healing, of compassionate service, and of prophetic witness (even through suffering and death, if it comes to that). In this way we are called to share in his risen life.
The way each of us learns what that means specifically, for each of us as an individual, is a process of prayerful reflection on our gifts and opportunities.
Not every Christian is called to preach from a pulpit. But every Christian is called to bear witness.
Not everyone is called to become a great teacher or professor or researcher. But everyone is called to teach by example—by the character of one’s life.
Not everyone is called to heal by entering the medical profession. But all of us are called to be a healing presence.
Not everyone is called to be a Mother Teresa—to serve in the slums or barrios of this world. But all of us are called to sacrificial service right where we are.
Not everyone can become a great social prophet, like Martin Luther King Junior. But all of us are called to speak out against injustice and for a better world.
We may not face death on a cross. But all of us will face suffering and death, in which we can witness to the resurrection love of Jesus Christ.
So, were you a gifted child? Are you a gifted adult?
Yes. Yes, of course you are. We all are—not as the world sees it, but from our gifted identity as being among those who are in Christ, and in whom Christ lives.
No mixed blessing here! It’s all blessing.
So as today we remember the story of a precocious child in the temple, let us give thanks to God that as people who follow him, we are all gifted as he was. Amen.