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.

Postcards from France —- Chateau de la Trousse

I knew we were staying in the countryside but that was all. This trip to France came as a gift from my family, with a few surprises included. Driving north from Paris through gently rounded green hills and red-roofed villages, we finally turned onto a narrow road paralleling a weathered stone wall. I caught a glimpse of a stately manor house set on a hill, the sun glinting off its numerous arched windows. I wondered aloud what it would be like to stay in such a grand place. “We are,” replied my daughter.

Chateau de la Trousse, 17th century home of Count de Mony, put bricks and plaster to my life long dreams of fairytale castles and long ago lifestyles. Flanked by rows of soldierly trees, the long drive led us to an ornate wrought iron gate framing the picturesque façade of the chateau. Beautiful in its proportions from a distance, it was even more elegant up close. And it would be our home for the next several days. I didn’t know it was possible to feel such excitement at my stage of life.

My daughters, son-in-law and I, all hopeless romantics, explored room after room, exclaiming over the lofty ceilings wreathed in cornices of cherubs and floral garlands, the ancient tapestries, sparkling chandeliers and marble fireplaces. Occupying only a wing of the extensive chateau still gave plenty to charm us. We climbed a winding staircase to our bedrooms, flinging open curtains on tall windows framing an idyllic view. Over 40 acres of well-kept estate grounds beckoned my city-raised granddaughter to run free on the lawns, throw pebbles in the pond and pet the stone lions at the gate. Bird song and the sough of the breeze in the treetops were the only accompaniment to the peacefulness of la Trousse.

Rarely in this life does the reality of a thing exceed our dream of it. My imagination had long wandered down corridors of castles, through gardens of days gone by, but a sojourn at la Trousse surpassed even my vivid fantasies.

A promise is given by God about a future reality which will far outshine anything our imagination can produce. “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him.” (1 Cor. 2:9 NIV)

Countless words have been spoken and written in an effort to describe what awaits us in our future with God but they are weak predictions of a reality beyond what we can ask or imagine. Even the apostle John struggled to describe the visions of the future given him in the book of Revelation because he was limited to mere human senses and comprehension. But by the Spirit of God we have been given a glimpse, a foretaste, a flesh and bone manifestation of what He has destined for our glory before time began. It is in the God-man, Jesus Christ. God has chosen to make known to us “the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.” (Col. 1:27)

I experienced the magic of la Trousse with my senses, a gift I will always treasure. God’s gift prepared for me in eternity will be experienced with my spirit, when all earthly limitations to my relationship with Him will be removed and I will see Him face to face.
That will surely be heaven to me.

Valerie Ronald and scriptordeus 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Valerie Ronald and scriptordeus with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Come as to a Feast

In those days I craved tomatoes, but not much else. The cancer-fighting chemicals pumped into my body robbed me of an appetite for most foods. But the thought of biting into a ripe, fresh tomato made my mouth water. My husband’s garden tomatoes were abundant so I ate as many as I wanted.

After chemotherapy was over my appetite began to improve. I couldn’t eat much but I savored each bite with new appreciation. All kinds of foods tasted good again so with anticipation I sat down to each meal as if it were a feast, and I was satisfied. Soon I started to gain needed weight and energy as my body was nourished by healthy food.

Every day a different type of feast is spread before me, ready for my consumption, filled with all manner of good things to nourish and sustain. If I turn away from it in favor of lesser choices, my soul starves and weakens, for the Word of God is vital to its existence. But when I come to it with an appetite, my inner person finds repletion in all it offers.

“My soul will be satisfied as with the richest of foods; with singing lips my mouth will praise You.” (Psalm 63:5 NIV)

This fresh hunger for God’s word came later in my walk with Him, at a time when worldly props were being pulled out from under me. I desired to spend as much time as possible feeding on His Word, learning more about His ways and finding help for the struggles I faced. When my health deteriorated so I could no longer work, I would spend all morning in a big easy chair, taking in those life-giving words, like a starving person sitting down to a feast. Without those times of enrichment I would have been too weak in spirit to face the hardships.

When the prophet Jeremiah was persecuted by his own people because of God’s words spoken through him, he found a resource of strength in those words. “When Your words came I ate them; they were my joy and my heart’s delight, for I bear Your name, Lord God Almighty.” (Jer. 15:16)

Like a lavish feast spread before me, God’s inspired Word provides food for my spirit. Jesus, the Word become flesh, referred to Himself as the Bread of life, saying, “He who comes to Me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty.” (John 6:35) By ingesting the life-giving words of Jesus, I am sustained for the journey.

Someday I will be present at the wedding supper of the Lamb and His bride, the church, when all the words I have feasted on will be fulfilled. It is a banquet I cannot envision now but I believe no earthly feast will compare.

© Valerie Ronald and scriptordeus 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Valerie Ronald and scriptordeus with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

An Everlasting Mountain

I used to live in a house with a view of the mountains. Every morning I would enjoy their changing aspect. Clean and pure in winter snow, verdant evergreens thick on their slopes in springtime, peaks aflame in a summer sunrise, mists encircling rocky summits above the gold of autumn. I received inspiration from those mountains because they reflected spiritual truths I needed to draw on during a difficult time in my life.

Psalm 121 begins, “I lift up my eyes to the hills; where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.”

When I looked at the mountains I had to lift my eyes above the everyday scene on the street. Taking my attention off problems on the human level and focusing on the majesty of the Lord helped me to put things in a right perspective. I was reminded that the Lord dwells in the heavens and His ways are higher than mine. I was His small creation, beloved by Him but mortal and muddled. I needed to look up to Him in dependence and often in desperation. I could not understand the reasons for the hardships I was experiencing but I could entrust my future to the Lord whose omniscient vision could see His perfect purposes for my life.

The mountains beyond my window represented permanence, stability and agelessness. Every morning I could depend on them being there when I woke up, and they would probably be there for many years to come. But God reminded me that there was something even more immovable than those geological formations of rock and dirt.

‘Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet My unfailing love for you will not  be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,’ says the Lord, who has compassion on you.” (Isaiah 54:10 NIV)

What promises to cling to when the very foundations of my life were crumbling beneath my feet! I was abandoned and rejected, yet God loved me with unfailing love. I was beset by problems and turmoil, yet God would not remove His covenant of peace. I was destitute and critically ill, yet God had compassion on me.

I no longer look at mountains outside my window. I look at a wide open prairie. God has brought me to a time of peace and blessing, no longer hemmed in by mountains of trouble but in a place where I am reminded of the vastness of His mercy and the limitless capacity of His great heart of love. He is greater than any mountain and cannot be moved.

Before the mountains were born or You brought forth the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting You are God.  (Psalm 90:2)

 

Along the Road

Travel has a way of drawing out internal things. As the body is engaged in getting to a destination, the mind has time to ponder and explore, away from daily routine. On a seven mile journey by foot from Jerusalem to Emmaus, a few days after Jesus’ crucifixion, two of His disciples discussed the internal things closest to their hearts.

Shoulders slumped, feet scuffing the dusty road, faces sad and perplexed, their demeanor spoke their discouragement. They had put their hope in Jesus of Nazareth as the one who was going to redeem Israel, but he had been arrested, crucified and buried, and his body probably stolen, for his tomb was now empty. With the road stretching before them, their conversation was tinged with sorrow and confusion.

In the aftermath of a life-shattering event, we want to study it from all angles, dissect the details, try to figure out the why and how and now what? Somehow it gives us a sense of control to analyze the facts and search for some answers, preferably with someone who can commiserate with us.

Processing a traumatic event turns the focus inward. The two walking to Emmaus were so absorbed in their discussion, they probably did not notice a fellow traveler until he came alongside them. Wrapped in a robe, dusty and windblown, like themselves, they did not recognize Jesus. Even though it was Jesus they were discussing, seeing Him in person was the farthest thought from their minds. Although He had spoken of it often, His resurrection was outside their realm of possibility.

When we are caught up in our own problems, trying to cope with an imperfect reality, we can miss Jesus walking beside us. Life narrows our vision to focus on looming bills, a serious medical diagnosis, a fractured relationship. Even when we fail to recognize Him, He is beside us through all the difficulties because He has promised to never leave us or forsake us. (Heb. 13:5)

Still disguised, Jesus gently chided the two on the road for being foolish and slow of heart. In modern terms, He admonished them to “look at the big picture”. Then painting the big picture in words, “He explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself.” (Luke 24:27 NIV) And they still were not aware it was Him.

When all I can see are the problems right in front of me, the best thing I can do is adjust my spiritual lens, go wide angle and take in all of who Jesus is, what He has accomplished and what He has promised for the future. His story is woven throughout the Bible from the first word to the last. Reading it reminds me of the providence of God so clearly demonstrated in the life of His son Jesus, so I can trust Him for my life too.

The two travelers warmed to their wise companion as they walked. They strongly urged him to stay with them and have a meal. “He took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight.” (Luke 24:30-31)

This part of the story touches my heart, because it was in the act of thanksgiving and sharing bread that Jesus revealed Himself. And He will continue to reveal Himself as we practice thanksgiving, focusing on the One who has given us all things. We are called to give thanks in all circumstances. (1 Thess. 5:17). Thanksgiving points us to Jesus, our true north, who guides us into all truth.

Finally they put the two together. Jesus, the man who walked to Emmaus with them, once dead and now alive, was the Messiah. fulfilling all the prophecies in Scripture. Their hearts burned within them with this revolutionary knowledge.

The story of the two on the road to Emmaus is our story too. Often blind to the presence of Jesus right beside us, we listen to His story in Scripture, but until we thank Him for His body broken and His blood poured out for us, we cannot see who He really is. When we finally recognize our constant companion, our hearts will burn within us — with love, with gratitude and with worship.