1 Samuel 1:20-22; Colossians 3:12-17; Luke 2:41-52
On this Sunday after Christmas, we celebrate the Solemnity of the Holy Family: Jesus, Mary and Joseph. We often have a tranquil picture of the Holy Family: Silent Night, Holy Night. All is Calm, All is Bright. Thus, it must have been most of the time. Still, the gospels describe events that shattered their tranquility: The Flight into Egypt when they became refugees fleeing a murderous despot, and today, the anguish of searching for a missing child.
Historically, the Church has given us the Holy Family as a model for Christian living. Yet, this model doesn’t work for some of us because we reason, “Jesus was God, Mary was born without original sin, and Joseph had to be a saint to be able to deal with everything thrown at him. How can we possibility be like them?” We forget that the three of them, including Jesus, were just as human as we are. Theirs was a real family that experienced many of the same challenges each of us experience.
But, to tell you the truth, I’ve always found this reading a strange choice for the Church’s celebration of the Holy Family. I mean, what kind of parents were Mary and Joseph that they could have left Jerusalem and traveled a whole day without realizing that Jesus wasn’t with them? It sounds like the plot of one of the “Home Alone” movies! But to understand the story, you have to understand the culture of the time.
Devout Jewish families like Joseph's made at least one pilgrimage to Jerusalem each year. In Luke 2 it is the Feast of the Passover that brings them to the Holy City and in this case it is the year when Jesus will receive his bar mitzvah, formally coming of age and so being regarded as an adult. So although we regard this as a child's story about someone who today would be a middle school student, we need to remember that in that time, this would have been viewed as a story about a young man on the brink of becoming a grown-up.
People traveled in large groups, caravans, for security. Women and children formed one group, men another. There was a certain amount of to-ing and fro-ing between the two groups, but people like Joseph and Mary could go a whole travelling day without seeing each other. Previously Jesus had traveled with the women; now he was supposed to travel with the men. So, each parent might have concluded that Jesus was "over there" with the others. But as it happens, he was with neither. His absence probably wasn’t noted until the end of the day, when family groups of men and women assembled for the evening meal. Frantic with worry when they found Jesus was missing, Mary and Joseph return to the city, to search for their son. This would have taken a day's travel, especially as they were moving against the flow of other pilgrims leaving the city. And after two days frantically searching throughout the city of Jerusalem, they find Jesus in among the elders in the Temple. “Why were you searching for me?” Jesus asks. “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house” And we hear that Mary "kept all these things in her heart." She didn't brood, but she wondered and prayed.
And Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart . . .
It's something we will hear again in a few days, on New Year's Day, when our gospel will recall the adoration of the shepherds after Jesus' birth.
And Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart . . .
And not just Mary, but all mothers do this - they store up memories of their children: to keep them, to hold on to them, to treasure them lest they ever be lost. And not just mothers, but fathers too. And, in fact, all of us do. We all keep memories in our hearts, continuing to reflect on them as the months and years pass by.
I’m wondering this weekend, this weekend before New Year’s, what memories of 2012 are you and I keeping, storing, holding in our hearts? Was 2012 a good year or a hard year? A happy year or a sad year? A healthy year or a year of sickness? Was it a year of gain or a year of loss? A year of pain or a year of peace? Did the year just past seem to fly by or did it creep at a snail’s pace?
My physical heart has only four chambers but my soul’s heart has many more than four. With what memories has this past year filled the chambers of my heart?
Am I keeping some hurtful memories alongside some happier ones? Am I holding on to some resentments and grudges or have I filled some chambers with forgiveness, with peace-finally-made? Is there a chamber in my heart now empty because I’ve lost someone or a relationship? Have I locked up that empty place -- or left it open, waiting for it to be filled with consolation and healing, with fresh affection?
In the past year did my heart expand to accommodate everything that came my way? Peace and pain alike? Did my heart enlarge to welcome God’s grace in my joys and his gentle touch upon my grief?
In 2012 did I turn to Christ living in my heart: to lean on his strength in my weakness, to depend on his counsel in my doubt, to seek his wisdom in my confusion, to reach for his companionship in my loneliness?
Mary would come, eventually, to keep in her heart not only joyful recollections of Jesus’ birth but also the painful memories of his suffering and death. And so it is with us, too. Our hearts are the storehouses of all that has shaped us to be the persons we have become and our hearts are the Lord’s dwelling place where he wants to forgive our sins, heal our wounds, calm our fears and give us the peace that comes only from his heart, from his hand.
This New Year’s weekend might be a good time for us to walk through the chambers of our hearts and, with our Lord’s help, empty out what might be better left behind as a new year begins. If we’ve been living in the chambers of sadness it might be time, again, to enter the chambers of gladness -- and ask God to make his presence known and felt again in the good memories we’ve held and kept in our hearts. For sure, the year ahead will find its own share of blessings and sorrows filling our hearts but with the God’s help we can come to accept and even treasure it all and find peace in good times and hard times alike.
Every week when we come to the Lord’s table we keep the memories of Christ’s birth and of his suffering, death and resurrection. And every week the Lord who gave his life for us on the Cross fills our hearts with his living presence in the bread and cup of the Eucharist. Let’s pray that in the New Year we, like Mary, will keep in our hearts the memories of our blessing and treasure them in peace.
But, to tell you the truth, I’ve always found this reading a strange choice for the Church’s celebration of the Holy Family. I mean, what kind of parents were Mary and Joseph that they could have left Jerusalem and traveled a whole day without realizing that Jesus wasn’t with them? It sounds like the plot of one of the “Home Alone” movies! But to understand the story, you have to understand the culture of the time.
Devout Jewish families like Joseph's made at least one pilgrimage to Jerusalem each year. In Luke 2 it is the Feast of the Passover that brings them to the Holy City and in this case it is the year when Jesus will receive his bar mitzvah, formally coming of age and so being regarded as an adult. So although we regard this as a child's story about someone who today would be a middle school student, we need to remember that in that time, this would have been viewed as a story about a young man on the brink of becoming a grown-up.
People traveled in large groups, caravans, for security. Women and children formed one group, men another. There was a certain amount of to-ing and fro-ing between the two groups, but people like Joseph and Mary could go a whole travelling day without seeing each other. Previously Jesus had traveled with the women; now he was supposed to travel with the men. So, each parent might have concluded that Jesus was "over there" with the others. But as it happens, he was with neither. His absence probably wasn’t noted until the end of the day, when family groups of men and women assembled for the evening meal. Frantic with worry when they found Jesus was missing, Mary and Joseph return to the city, to search for their son. This would have taken a day's travel, especially as they were moving against the flow of other pilgrims leaving the city. And after two days frantically searching throughout the city of Jerusalem, they find Jesus in among the elders in the Temple. “Why were you searching for me?” Jesus asks. “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house” And we hear that Mary "kept all these things in her heart." She didn't brood, but she wondered and prayed.
And Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart . . .
It's something we will hear again in a few days, on New Year's Day, when our gospel will recall the adoration of the shepherds after Jesus' birth.
And Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart . . .
And not just Mary, but all mothers do this - they store up memories of their children: to keep them, to hold on to them, to treasure them lest they ever be lost. And not just mothers, but fathers too. And, in fact, all of us do. We all keep memories in our hearts, continuing to reflect on them as the months and years pass by.
I’m wondering this weekend, this weekend before New Year’s, what memories of 2012 are you and I keeping, storing, holding in our hearts? Was 2012 a good year or a hard year? A happy year or a sad year? A healthy year or a year of sickness? Was it a year of gain or a year of loss? A year of pain or a year of peace? Did the year just past seem to fly by or did it creep at a snail’s pace?
My physical heart has only four chambers but my soul’s heart has many more than four. With what memories has this past year filled the chambers of my heart?
Am I keeping some hurtful memories alongside some happier ones? Am I holding on to some resentments and grudges or have I filled some chambers with forgiveness, with peace-finally-made? Is there a chamber in my heart now empty because I’ve lost someone or a relationship? Have I locked up that empty place -- or left it open, waiting for it to be filled with consolation and healing, with fresh affection?
In the past year did my heart expand to accommodate everything that came my way? Peace and pain alike? Did my heart enlarge to welcome God’s grace in my joys and his gentle touch upon my grief?
In 2012 did I turn to Christ living in my heart: to lean on his strength in my weakness, to depend on his counsel in my doubt, to seek his wisdom in my confusion, to reach for his companionship in my loneliness?
Mary would come, eventually, to keep in her heart not only joyful recollections of Jesus’ birth but also the painful memories of his suffering and death. And so it is with us, too. Our hearts are the storehouses of all that has shaped us to be the persons we have become and our hearts are the Lord’s dwelling place where he wants to forgive our sins, heal our wounds, calm our fears and give us the peace that comes only from his heart, from his hand.
This New Year’s weekend might be a good time for us to walk through the chambers of our hearts and, with our Lord’s help, empty out what might be better left behind as a new year begins. If we’ve been living in the chambers of sadness it might be time, again, to enter the chambers of gladness -- and ask God to make his presence known and felt again in the good memories we’ve held and kept in our hearts. For sure, the year ahead will find its own share of blessings and sorrows filling our hearts but with the God’s help we can come to accept and even treasure it all and find peace in good times and hard times alike.
Every week when we come to the Lord’s table we keep the memories of Christ’s birth and of his suffering, death and resurrection. And every week the Lord who gave his life for us on the Cross fills our hearts with his living presence in the bread and cup of the Eucharist. Let’s pray that in the New Year we, like Mary, will keep in our hearts the memories of our blessing and treasure them in peace.
