Matthew 2
Walking into the crowded, chaotic temple grounds felt like going home, a weird sensation for a twelve-year-old who had never been far from his own house. As the young Jesus wandered around that consecrated area, he experienced the presence of God the Father in a new and refreshing way. It has been said that there exists in this world certain “thin places,” localities where the heavenly realm resides especially discoverable to our senses. Jesus moved across one of the thin places that afternoon.
Naturally, the boy struck up a conversation with one of the many teachers present in the temple area. Judaism was, and remains, a learned religion, with teachers and rabbis and commentators arguing about their sacred texts and how to apply them. Jesus engaged the finest minds, those at the center of Jewish learning, not unlike a symposium one of our top universities today.
Jesus did not just converse, however, he held court. As he dialogued with one teacher, others overheard the conversation and drew near. Soon, a small crowd gathered, alternately asking Jesus questions and listening to his answers. Then Jesus reversed roles, asking them questions and responding to their opinions. All present enjoyed this give and take among scholars, the exercise of the mind that so enriches intellectuals.
Except the center of this learned party was not an ancient sage, but rather a twelve-year-old boy from the country. Matthew tells us that the teachers were “astonished” at Jesus’ intelligence and responses. Teachers recognize bright students, and good teachers understand genius on the rare occasion it appears. These teachers sitting with Jesus had never interacted with such brilliance. They apparently were so engaged that the conversation went on for three days, until Mary and Joseph returned for their errant child.
Those teachers. They loved the boy Jesus; quick-witted, intelligent, soon to join their ranks, destined to become a great rabbi himself. Sadly, they hated the adult Jesus, the man who drew crowds and contradicted their teachings and overturned their tables. The boy Jesus represented a mascot, evidence of the wonderful culture of learning they represented. The grownup Jesus proved a menace, threatening to tear down their masterpiece of laws and rules and pride and power.
The boy, tussled on the head with smiles and blessings, was sent home with his mother and father. The man, a crown of thorns forced over his brow, was sent to the execution grounds. How many teachers were present for both send-offs? How many remembered the boy Jesus as they jeered him to the cross? Twenty-one years is not that long, not in the life of a teacher, and at least a few remained. I wonder what they were thinking? Did they remember the bright days in the temple courts, or were they only focused on the darkness before them?
Three days later, on a bright new morning of hope, these teachers heard remarkable news about Jesus. I wonder if it all clicked in their minds; the questions of the boy Jesus, the teachings of the adult Jesus, and now the resurrection of the Savior Jesus? Did they finally realize that all those years ago they were sitting with the Way, the Truth and the Life? They were teachers, after all, but were they also learners? History tells us some did learn, and finally embraced the Risen Jesus.
How about you? Are you in love with the boy Jesus, safe and loving and non-threatening? Or have you leaned into the teachings of the grown-man Jesus, passages that challenge and prod and tear away at your facades and pretenses? Is Jesus merely a mascot in your life, a good-luck charm, or is Jesus a teacher yielding ultimate authority? Is he the Way, the Truth, and the Life for you? We all get to choose. As one of my old teachers used to say, “be sure to choose wisely.”
