But if we walk in the light, just as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanses us from all sin. 1 John 1:7

Epiphany 1- 2024

 Luke 2:40-52

In this world, there may not be too many people you can really trust and count on. Usually, however, we do assume that at the very least, we should be able to rely on our closest relatives: parents, children, siblings, and spouses.

They won’t let us down. They won’t turn on us. But you know what? Sometimes they will.

As a twelve-year-old boy in a large, strange city, Jesus was dependent on his parents for care and protection.

According to his divine nature, Jesus was, of course, the almighty and all-knowing God of the universe. But in his state of humiliation, and according to his human nature, he was like any other twelve-year-old child in this respect.

But in their negligence, Mary and Joseph were no longer taking proper care of Jesus or protecting him from danger. They lost track of Jesus and left him behind in Jerusalem when they departed from the city to return home to Nazareth.

They would have been traveling with a large group of pilgrims. According to the custom of the time, Mary and Joseph would not have been walking together on this homeward journey.

Men traveled with other men, and women traveled with other women. Boys and girls under the age of thirteen or so would travel with the women. Boys older than thirteen or so would travel with the men.

This might explain how Mary and Joseph could have been on the road for a whole day without realizing that they had left Jesus behind. He was around that transitional age for a boy.

So, Joseph probably thought Jesus was traveling with Mary, as he would have on previous pilgrimages. Mary, in turn, probably thought that this year, Jesus was walking with the men, and was under Joseph’s care.

But whatever the reason for their negligence was, they had not made sure that Jesus was safe and sound with one of his parents. And he was not safe and sound with one of his parents. He was all by himself, in a strange city.

Clearly this was the fault of the responsible parties here: Mary and Joseph. This was not the fault of a twelve-year-old boy.

But what did Mary say when she and Joseph finally found Jesus? We read, from today’s text in St. Luke:

“Now so it was that after three days they found Him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the teachers, both listening to them and asking them questions. …and His mother said to Him, ‘Son, why have You done this to us? Look, Your father and I have sought You anxiously.’”

Mary is exasperated. But she is also evading responsibility for her own shortcomings as a mother. She is actually blaming Jesus for his own abandonment. “Son, why have you done this to us?”

We certainly would have expected more of her. But what we see here is an example of something that is repeated often in human relationships.

Because of the sin of pride that is embedded in all of us, a subconscious self-defense mechanism is triggered whenever objective circumstances, or our own conscience, expose a failure on our part. There is an instinct – a sinful instinct – to blame others for our sins.

Tragically, this blame – more often than not – gets cast in the direction of the very person who was harmed or endangered by our actions or inactions. This casting of blame onto our victims, instead of taking the blame for our own failures, is insidious.

It adds insult to injury. In the case of Jesus and his parents, it was bad enough that they had left him in Jerusalem to fend for himself. But this injury is now compounded by Mary putting the blame on Jesus.

In our families, when we do this sort of thing, and treat each other in this way, this has a very destructive effect on the trust and affection that is supposed to be there: between spouses, between siblings, or between parents and children.

But in spite of the obvious harm that comes from this behavior, the tendency to do this is well nigh universal. Even Mary was guilty of this. Certainly, you and I are also guilty of this.

This episode shows that Mary, too, was a sinner, in need of a Savior. And when we behave in a similar fashion, it proves that we likewise are sinners, and are in need of a Savior.

In the case of Jesus, as reported in today’s text, when his earthly parents were nowhere to be found, he knew where to turn for the protection and care that he was not getting from them. His instinct was not to get angry with his parents because of their negligence or to surrender to human fear, but it was to rely on his Father in heaven.

Jesus went to the one place in Jerusalem that most vividly represented the presence of God with his people and the protection of God over his people. He went to the temple. And that’s where Mary and Joseph eventually found him.

After three days of searching for the boy, they located him where they should have looked first: “in the temple, sitting in the midst of the teachers, both listening to them and asking them questions.”

And after the unjustified rebuke and accusation that Mary hurled at her innocent son, he calmly and respectfully asked her a couple of pertinent questions, too:

“Why did you seek Me? Did you not know that I must be about My Father’s business?”

Other translations state:

“Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?”

Follow the example of Jesus, dear friends, when people you thought you could count on, let you down and fail you, and when they may make the situation even worse by turning on you and blaming you for their sin.

Do not allow yourself to be overwhelmed either by discouragement or by anger. Instead, go to the temple. Turn to the Lord: your heavenly Father, and your divine protector.

When human beings – even the best of human beings – let you down, God will not let you down. His words are ever true, and he is ever faithful to the pledges that he makes to us in the gospel of His Son Jesus Christ.

In a time of stress and disappointment, therefore, we can pray with confidence the words of Psalm 86:

“You, O Lord, are a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.”

The promise that was made to the children of Israel in the Book of Deuteronomy, is a promise that you, too, can claim for yourself in Christ, as a member of Christ’s holy church:

“It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.”

When human flesh does forsake you, God embraces you as his own child and lifts you up in his love.

And if you have been guilty of a sin like the sin of Mary in today’s text – hurling accusations, and casting the blame for your mistakes onto others – there is hope for you as well.

If you have been negligent in fulfilling your responsibilities toward other people; if you have let people down, when they had the right to think that they could count on you; and especially if you have then blamed these wounded people for your wrongdoing, you do need to try to make that right.

Apologize to the people to whom you owe an apology. Ask for their forgiveness, and with God’s help do the best you can not to repeat those mistakes in the future – so that trust and mutual affection can be restored.

But know as well, that this sin was one of the sins that was imputed to Jesus, that was carried to the cross by Jesus, that was atoned for by the suffering and death of Jesus, and that was then left in the grave of death and divine forgetfulness in Jesus’ resurrection. This sin has been forgiven.

In today’s text, Mary’s sin of maternal negligence was imputed to Jesus, too. He was blamed for it.

But notice that he didn’t push back against this accusation, or deflect it from himself. He let his mother’s imputing of her own sin to him, rest upon him.

Mary’s sin was a sin that Jesus allowed to be credited to him. Jesus allowed himself to become guilty, by imputation, of the sin of negligence and carelessness that Mary had actually committed.

In truth, he allowed all human sins – and all your sins – to be credited to him before God’s tribunal, as if he were guilty of them. He didn’t shake off any of the sins of the human race that were placed upon him, with counter-accusations and defensive self-justifications.

He accepted all of them, he let all of them stick to him, and he carried all of them to the cross. St. Paul explains in his Second Epistle to the Corinthians that

“For our sake [God] made him to be sin who knew no sin so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”

Before God, Mary’s sin is therefore forgiven, because it has now been paid for by fallen humanity’s righteous substitute. Before God, all of her sins are forgiven. Jesus loves her just as much as ever.

Before God, all of your sins are forgiven. They have all been paid for. And therefore you can be certain that Jesus loves you just as much as ever.

And Jesus is still, as it were, in his Father’s house, and about his Father’s business. That is, he is in the living temple of his church, wherever his gospel is preached and his sacraments are administered.

He is there – he is here – to forgive his people, to restore and heal his people, and to restore and heal the relationships among his people that have become strained or broken because of their sins: sins that include the proud and selfish casting of blame onto the innocent.

Through the Lord’s Supper, in particular, Jesus is with us in this temple.

The body that was sacrificed for all sin, and the blood that was shed for the redemption of all of God’s people, is bestowed upon us here, for the restoration of our relationship and standing with God. The forgiveness that was won for us in the sacrificing of this body, and in the shedding of this blood, is received here in repentance and faith.

And this body and blood, and this forgiveness, also draw us close to each other: reuniting us in Christ, and restoring relationships even among those who have disappointed and offended each other; who have let each other down, and perhaps who have accused each other of things they did not really do.

As God has forgiven us, so too will those whom we have hurt and attacked, but with whom we now kneel at the Lord’s altar, forgive us, with the help of their Father in heaven: filled and refreshed as they now are with the body and blood of the Savior and healer of us all.

And in the forgiveness of Christ, the love of Christ returns and flows through us to one another. One of the post-communion prayers that we use in our order of service speaks to this:

“We give thanks to You, almighty God, that You have refreshed us through these salutary gifts; and, we implore You that of your mercy You would strengthen us through them, in faith toward You, and in fervent love toward one another; through Jesus Christ, Your Son, our Lord.”

Sometimes the people we care about and trust, betray that trust. Sometimes the people who care about us, and trust us, are betrayed by us. Such sins push us apart and pull us apart, all at the same time.

In this fallen world, this can and does happen among friends. In this sin-sick world, this can and does happen within families.

But there is hope in Christ. There is always hope, and a way back, in Christ.

There is hope for healing and reconciliation, under his grace, for those who have been divided from each other by sin. And even when such reconciliation remains elusive and unfulfilled, there is hope in the love and faithfulness of Christ toward us.

He remains as our companion. He helps us to bear our pain and burdens in his strength and sets our hearts at peace. Psalm 94 comforts us with these words:

“The Lord will not forsake his people; he will not abandon his heritage.” Amen.