Parenting Jesus

Their eldest son had never given them a bit of trouble. Obedient, loving, respectful, they watched Jesus grow and became strong. His miraculous birth and identity never left Mary and Joseph’s thoughts, even as they raised him like any other Jewish boy. But their boy was different, filled with wisdom and with the grace of God upon him.

This year the family’s annual pilgrimage from Nazareth to Jerusalem for the Feast of the Passover held special significance as Jesus had reached twelve, the age when he could fully participate in the religious life of the synagogue. Up to this time he was under the tutelage of his parents concerning Jewish religious law, but now he was a bar mitzvah, a “son of the commandment,” on the brink of manhood.

After the Feast was over, they made ready, along with their large company, to travel home. Mary’s hands were full with packing and caring for her younger children so she assumed Jesus was among the company. She believed in his good judgement and had no reason to worry. Joseph came to the same conclusion, for he too implicitly trusted Jesus to behave responsibly.

“After the Feast was over, while his parents were returning home, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but they were unaware of it.” (Luke 2:43 NIV) Jesus had stayed behind in the temple, a logical place for his parents to look for him when they were ready to depart. However, they did not come because it appears both thought him to be with the other. Once they realized Jesus was not with their company, they spent another day returning to Jerusalem to find him. Their conversation as they hurried along may have been somewhat accusatory of each other’s negligence or surprised at what appeared to be Jesus’ defiance of their authority. They may have momentarily forgotten that this was the Son of God they were looking for, but they soon were reminded when “they found him in the temple courts, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking questions. Everyone who heard him was amazed at his understanding and his answers.” (vs. 46-47)

Mary’s anxiety came out in her reproving questions of Jesus’ perceived disregard for their concern. But his reply held no insolence, only genuine amazement that they did not know where to look for Him. “Why were you searching for me? Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?” (vs. 49) In other words, ‘you shouldn’t have had to seek at all. For you know, don’t you, that there is within me an inner necessity to be about my Father’s business?’ This should have been an epiphanous moment for Mary and Joseph, when Jesus declares his unique sonship to God, which takes precedence over his closest earthly family ties. Yet the scriptures state they did not understand what he was saying to them.

In spite of who they knew him to be, he was still just their boy whom they had raised as best they could and who brought them much joy. Their lack of understanding might be attributed to their familiarity with this child they lived with daily, and perhaps a reluctance to acknowledge the beginning of his independence away from them toward his divine ministry and his true Father. Gifted with the singular privilege of parenting Jesus, his mother would come to treasure all these things she knew of him in her heart, (vs. 51) just as she did when he was born. She would do so for the rest of her life , until welcomed home to heaven by her son and Savior.

A Mother’s Ponderings

 

Prone on her pallet, Mary listens to the night sounds. A small breeze rustling through the streets of Nazareth, the soft breathing of her slumbering family close by. She gazes up at a cool shaft of moonlight slanting through a window and ponders why the One who made the moon would choose her to be the mother of His Son. Spreading her hands over her stomach, the fear which woke her gradually yields to adoring wonder at this treasure growing deep within.

From before His conception, Jesus’ mother Mary, lived with the knowledge that her child would be the Son of God. She kept this knowledge, revealed to her by an angel, to herself early in her pregnancy, until God made it known to Joseph, her betrothed, and her cousin, Elizabeth. Mary carried the child foretold by Isaiah, the virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son. (Isa. 7:14 NIV) This simple peasant girl, especially chosen by God to be the mother of His incarnate Son, must have spent many a sleepless night pondering the immensity of what was to come.

No doubt Mary was distinguished among all mothers throughout history, yet she exhibited several traits common to those who have borne children. One trait, revealed in portions of Luke 2, was her inner contemplation about her child. After the shepherds came to see the infant Jesus lying in a manger, just as the angels said, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. (Luke 2:17-19)

From the moment a mother knows she will have a child, she begins to think about who her baby will be and what their future holds. Perhaps she dreams about them achieving fame or accomplishing humanitarian deeds. But she really has no idea what they will become. Mary did know, because her child’s identity and deeds were revealed by the Holy Spirit through the prophets and angels. She knew He was the Son of the Most High, a Savior, Christ the Lord. Certainly the meditations of her heart must have been filled with awe and exaltation!

When her adolescent son stayed behind at the temple in Jerusalem after the Passover, Mary heard about His amazing interaction with the teachers there, and again she held these things dearly, deep within herself. (Luke 2:51 Msg.) But did she also think of earlier words spoken in the temple about her son soon after his birth? Moved by the Spirit, a devout man named Simeon said her child was destined to be a sign in Israel so that the thoughts of many hearts would be revealed.  And a sword will pierce your own soul too. (Luke 2:35) She would not know the meaning of those words until decades later when she saw her precious son crucified on a cross. Then came the unspeakable joy of His resurrection, confirming all that had been foretold about Him.

Mary was favored by God to be the mother of His Son. Every mother is given a child chosen for her by God. Not all are dedicated mothers, yet those who are share the heart of Mary in pondering the things they treasure about their child and the desires they have for them. Pondering and prayer go hand in hand, the highest calling of a mother.

Advent Week 3 ~ V for Vessel

Entering week 3 using the word “Advent” as an acrostic for a series of devotionals, my prayer for each reader is for God to fashion you as well, into a willing vessel for His glory.

The seaside park blossoms with booths and tents showcasing the richly diverse talents of artisans and craftspeople. My favourites are the potter’s works; earthenware, stoneware, ceramics and porcelain made for beauty as well as functionality. I like to carefully handle the pieces that interest me, feeling where the potter pressed his thumb into the wet clay on a mug handle, or used her hands to narrow the neck of a vase formed on a potter’s wheel. Simply put, they make vessels, hollow containers for holding something but it is obvious that their creations are so much more.

In the nativity story, Mary, the mother of Jesus, became a human vessel to receive the Spirit of God. In His infinite, mysterious wisdom God chose this poor peasant girl to carry His beloved Son in her womb. She asked the angel, “How will this be, since I am a virgin?” (Luke 1:34 NIV) It is a question pondered by many since. The angel told her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God.” (Luke 1:35)

What qualities did God look for in a human vessel for His Son? Did He lovingly hold His creation, Mary, in His hands, turning her this way and that, looking into her soul for those certain attributes only He knew would suit His purpose? What set her apart from all other young women of her time who could have borne the Son of God? I cannot fathom the answer to these questions but I can rest in the certainty that He chose the perfect vessel.

God chose a vessel, first of all, who was pure. In order for His Son to be born a sinless man, He could not be conceived in sin, but would be born of a virgin. As Isaiah prophesied centuries before, “The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel, God with us.” (Isa. 7:14b)

Mary was highly favored by God, according to the angel, so the purity He required in the mother of His holy Son was not only physical but spiritual. In her simple faith Mary exhibited qualities which pleased God, such as trust, faithfulness, humility and obedience. All these traits are evident in the telling of Mary’s story in the first chapter of Luke. Most noticeable is her unerring faith and willingness to believe that what the Lord had said to her would be accomplished. “ ‘I am the Lord’s servant,’ Mary answered. ‘May it be to me as you have said.’” (Luke 1:38)

Not only was she a willing vessel to carry the Son of God, she also would have realized that judgement and condemnation would come with her role. Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph but they were not yet man and wife, so her pregnancy would bring with it shame and reproach from those who knew her. No one would believe in her purity, except Joseph, who had it revealed to him by an angel of the Lord. She graciously accepted the damage to her reputation for the singular privilege of bearing God’s Son.

A vessel is open at the top to receive the contents intended for it. I picture Mary’s spiritual posture as open, receptive to whatever her Lord would pour into her willing heart. I have much to learn from the mother of my Savior by her servant attitude and humility. The treasure of God’s Spirit is contained in this body of mine, this earthen vessel, so that the transcendent character of this power will be clearly seen as coming from God and not from me. (2 Cor. 4:7) My supreme privilege is to be poured out for Him.

Joseph’s Journey

( I hope you enjoy this devotional posted last Christmas. Its purpose is to evoke the very first Christmas night, when our Savior came to dwell with us.)

After three days of travel, Joseph is weary and footsore. His pains are minor compared to those of his wife, Mary, riding the donkey behind him. She clings to the donkey’s mane with one hand while holding her swollen stomach with the other. She gives a low moan, prompting him to pick up their pace along the rocky road approaching Bethlehem. If it weren’t for the enforced census decreed by the Roman emperor, Mary would be at home with her mother as she prepares to give birth, instead of  in a strange, crowded town. Nothing about this child is normal, he muses, and now it seems it would not even be born at home.

As he plods through the dusty twilight Joseph relives the night of the dream. He had fallen into a troubled sleep, heartsick over having to break his betrothal to the young woman he loved, because she was with child. Only it wasn’t his child. In the dream a clear white light emanated from a heavenly figure, who called him by name and told him not to be afraid to take Mary as his wife, because the child she carried was from the Holy Spirit; a son to be named Jesus, who would save his people from their sins.

In spite of the disapproval of many, Joseph did what the angel of the Lord commanded and took Mary home. She slept in a small alcove in his house, and he did not go to her. Sometimes she would gently take his hand and hold it to where the child moved within her. They knew of each other’s angel visitations, but spoke rarely of the event to come. It was too awesome to fully comprehend.

Now the time has arrived for the baby to be born, and Joseph does what he can to prepare. The innkeeper has no room, but he kindly gives them a small oil lamp and a hastily swept corner of his stable for shelter. Amidst the dust, stench, and noise Joseph helps Mary off the donkey to slump against a grimy wall. By the time he returns with a bucket of water, her pains have increased. He is a most unlikely midwife, but he alone is here to help her. He wipes her face and grips her hand, thoughts flashing through his mind like lightning.

“Almighty Yahweh, if this is how you choose to bring Messiah to us, I do not understand! Shouldn’t there be a golden cradle, a silken blanket, a royal proclamation? Instead, he is brought forth in pain, in a dirty cattle stall, with barely enough thin linen to wrap around him, and no one to hail him.” Mary cries out again. He feels so helpless.   

“Forgive me, Yahweh, for questioning you. Your ways are higher than my ways, and your thoughts higher than mine. Help me bring this blessed child into the world and I will do all in my power to care for him as my own.”

Then he is too busy to hear his own thoughts. From Mary’s body into his waiting hands comes the Messiah, no differently than any other child. His tiny fists flail, his plaintive cries echo in the stable. Joseph wipes the shivering infant, then places him on his mother’s breast to nurse for the first time. Mary smiles weakly, examining each minute limb to see all is perfect. Joseph sits back on his heels, exhaling a weary sigh. A cow lows close by, the oil lamp flickers as a cold draft whispers across the dirt floor. All is as it was before this child entered the world, yet Joseph knows nothing will ever be the same. Unbidden to his mind come the words of ancient scripture, “The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel, God with us.” He is finally here.

Words to an Unborn King

The road is rough and long to Bethlehem, my child, so to distract myself from the discomfort, I will talk to you in my heart. Where do I begin?

My life was no different than any other girl in Nazareth. I came from a poor family, yet we found joy and comfort in our faith in the Lord God. My father had just pledged me to be married to Joseph, the man now leading the donkey we are riding on. He is a good and upright man, a carpenter from the line of David. That is why we are traveling to Bethlehem, to register for the census in his own town. But I am getting ahead of myself.

Do you remember the night the angel came? Of course you do; you sent him after all. I have never felt so afraid, until he spoke to me. How could I, never having been with a man, give birth to the Son of the Most High? For that is what he told me would happen. “The Holy Spirit will come upon you,” he said, “and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God.” (1) You, my child! It is you the angel spoke of!

I remember often hearing the prophetic words of our forefather, Isaiah. “Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: the virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.” (2) That I should be the virgin chosen to give you birth is beyond my comprehension. As the angel told me, nothing is impossible with God. When peace flooded my heart, even in the face of such an extraordinary announcement, all I could say was, “May it be to me as you have said.” (3)

I am so grateful the angel told me about the miracle of Elizabeth’s expected child. The reality of who you are came clear when her child leaped in her womb at the sound of my voice and the Holy Spirit caused her to bless me as the mother of her Lord. Those months I spent with her before her baby’s birth strengthened me for what lay ahead.

As I see Joseph walking steadfastly ahead of us, I am filled with gratitude for this man chosen by God before I knew about you. He had every right to set me aside before our formal marriage, once you were evident, but he chose to believe what the angel of the Lord told him. Even in the face of public condemnation and family scorn he remained obedient. He will be a kind and loving earthly father to you, my son.

All these months you have been growing inside me, child, I have considered your destiny. It is prophesied you will be a king who will save your people from their sins. Only God can save us from our sins, and you are He. It is a mystery to me how you will do this. Because you are Messiah, you will make a way. For now I wait for your coming, longing to hold you in my arms. Through the gathering dusk I see lamps glowing in the windows of Bethlehem. Can you wait until we get there, little one? Already I feel you stretching and pushing to be born, but let the world wait a little longer to see you. I want to keep you close awhile so I may treasure up all these things and ponder them in my heart.

1 – Luke 1:35 NIV     2 – Isaiah 7:14    3 – Luke 1:38

Joseph’s Journey

After three days of travel, Joseph is weary and footsore. His pains are minor compared to those of his wife, Mary, riding the donkey behind him. She clings to the donkey’s mane with one hand while holding her swollen stomach with the other. She gives a low moan, prompting him to pick up their pace along the rocky road approaching Bethlehem. If it weren’t for the enforced census decreed by the Roman emperor, Mary would be at home with her mother as she prepares to give birth, instead of  in a strange, crowded town. Nothing about this child is normal, he muses, and now it seems it would not even be born at home.
As he plods through the dusty twilight Joseph relives the night of the dream. He had fallen into a troubled sleep, heartsick over having to break his betrothal to the young woman he loved, because she was with child. Only it wasn’t his child. In the dream a clear white light emanated from the figure of a man, who called him by name and told him not to be afraid to take Mary as his wife, because the child she carried was from the Holy Spirit; a son to be named Jesus, who would save his people from their sins.
In spite of the disapproval of many, Joseph did what the angel of the Lord commanded and took Mary home. She slept in a small alcove in his house, and he did not go to her. Sometimes she would gently take his hand and hold it to where the child moved within her. They knew of each others angel visitations, but spoke rarely of the event to come. It was too awesome to fully comprehend.
Now the time has arrived for the baby to be born, and Joseph does what he can to prepare. The innkeeper has no room, but he kindly gives them a small oil lamp and a hastily swept corner of his stable for shelter. Amidst the dust, stench, and noise Joseph helps Mary off the donkey to slump against a grimy wall. By the time he returns with a bucket of water, her pains have increased. He is a most unlikely midwife, but he alone is here to help her. He wipes her face and grips her hand, thoughts flashing through his mind like lightning.
“Almighty Yahweh, if this is how you choose to bring Messiah to us, I do not understand! Shouldn’t there be a golden cradle, a silken blanket, a royal proclamation? Instead, he is brought forth in pain, in a dirty cattle stall, with barely enough thin linen to wrap around him, and no one to hail him.” Mary cries out again. He feels so helpless.
“Forgive me, Yahweh, for questioning you. Your ways are higher than my ways, and your thoughts higher than mine. Help me bring this blessed child into the world and I will do all in my power to care for him as my own.”
Then he is too busy to hear his own thoughts. From Mary’s body into his waiting hands comes the Messiah, no differently than any other child. His tiny fists flail, his plaintive cries echo in the stable. Joseph wipes the shivering infant, then places him on his mother’s breast to nurse for the first time. Mary smiles weakly, examining each minute limb to see all is perfect. Joseph sits back on his heels, exhaling a weary sigh. A cow lows close by, the oil lamp flickers as a cold draft whispers across the dirt floor. All is as it was before this child entered the world, yet Joseph knows nothing will ever be the same. Unbidden to his mind come the words of ancient scripture, “The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel, God is with us.” He is finally here.

(photo of nativity scene credited to my daughter)