This year, I plan to lean heavily into wonder...
I read the scriptures appointed for this day. A blessing from Numbers, a couple of psalms, an epistle, a little Luke, and Matthew to wrap up the Christmas story. There was some Isaiah, a bit of prophecy to shore up our confidence. Oh, and Revelation – the white horse – to further confuse us. These days, we can be sure of one thing: we have no idea what is coming down the pike. But we can trust that God is in this mess with us.
Then I read a social media post from a 19-year-old homeless young man who needs a job and a place to live, and I think immediately of Jesus. He had no place to lay his head; we read in the scriptures. His mom was there for him, always. Not sure about Joseph, though he seemed like a good guy. He was just a little dreamy, you know. Not putting down permanent roots, always traveling. Maybe Jesus got his wanderlust from his (earthly) dad.
We don’t know what happened to Jesus between 13 or so and 30. Was he 19 and homeless? Did he ever wander around Nazareth, knocking on doors, looking for a job and a roof over his head? I wonder.
If so, it would stand to reason his hometown peeps might be wary when he shows up to preach.
Maybe Jesus was a rebellious teenager. Maybe it took him till 30 to finally grow up. These days, that’s nothing. I wonder if the gospel writers thought it best to keep those turbulent years quiet.
