When Mary and Joseph lost Jesus, we can easily imagine the panic and grief they must have experienced. But although they lost him, they also modelled how to find him.
In these days of conflicting information, complicated social issues and so many unanswered questions about our collective future, some of us may wonder if we’ve lost Jesus somehow. His peace may feel like a distant memory. The sense that we are in uncharted territory is a fearful thing.
It’s OK if we don’t think to immediately look for him in the house of the Father (or more properly, in the heart of the Father). The important thing is that we eventually open the eyes of our heart.
He was in the temple then and he is in the temple now.
In each moment, that is exactly where he is. If we can drown out the voice of the frantic crowd, we too will hear his young, convicted voice: “Did you not know that I would be here?”
Panic rightfully fills our souls at the thought of being far from God. As if we could somehow do something to disqualify ourselves from having a relationship with him. As Christ himself demonstrated on the Cross, it is misery to be separated from God. But he wanted to be like us in all things, even in the perceived loss of God.
Only sin separates us from God. Thankfully, even our unintentional negligence and our preoccupation with other things can act as a benevolent guide right into the heart of God. The seeming “negligence” of Mary and Joseph in losing their son led them straight into the temple, which, for a Jew at that time, was the holiest place you could stand. That is where they found their Jesus, our Jesus.
In losing him, they show us how to find him.
When we perceive his absence in the Christian life, we must understand that this is his invitation to look for him more deeply. To seek him more purely. So where is Jesus when we feel we are without a lifeline in the midst of a pandemic with young children at home? Or when we experience betrayal? Or when an innocent child suffers and dies?
He is in the temple of our hearts where God dwells. He is always teaching there and dispensing wisdom that we’ve merited because of our adoption. We could never do anything to earn his dwelling in us and we could never do anything to “un-inherit” it.
Whether or not we are able to pull ourselves together enough to read the right self- help books or to attend that prayer meeting, or to pray that novena, he is still right there in the temple of our heart. Whether your “right mind” is clouded by grief or anxiety, he is still there. Even though you can’t find the perfect prayer to utter, even though you can’t find a trustworthy friend with whom you can unfurl your deepest fears and secrets: Christ is there, in the stillness of your innermost being. Whether we perceive him or not.
Mary and Joseph did not give up their search after three days. We must not give up! We must not give in to the temptation to believe that He is only good to those who love him perfectly. He is not a God who retaliates for years of half-hearted service. Nor is he a God who revels in our running to him out of desperation.
He is simply a God who wants to be sought and found.
