About My Father's Business

“Jesus said to them, ‘Why were you looking for me? Didn't you know that I must be in my Father's house?’” Luke 2:49

Other translations have Jesus say, “Didn’t you know I must be about my Father’s business?” The meaning does not change much either way. But it started me thinking about the things I expect Jesus to do, and the places I expect Him to show up.

We know this story so well, that Jesus’ answer doesn’t shock us very much. But I think Luke meant it to be a punch line at the end of a well-crafted narration. Jesus’ parent, Joseph and Mary, were on their way home after the family had been in Jerusalem for Passover. Most people traveled in large groups. Nearly everyone went from nearby villages, and it was safer to caravan because of roadside marauders. Some say that men and women traveled in two different groups, and that both Mary and Joseph thought Jesus was with the other parent. Whatever the reason, they didn’t discover he was gone until a day’s travel away.

Imagine driving some 500 miles only to discover you left your nearly teenage son behind! Joseph and Mary were so holy they probably didn’t have the argument that I would have had. But most human couples would spend the first couple of hours rehearsing everywhere they had been, two more hours arguing over whose fault his disappearance was, and finally trying to apologize enough to put on a good front before we got back to Jerusalem and all the religious bigwigs. It was bad enough to lose our son; we couldn’t dare let those holy elite think we also argued about it.

Whatever their conversation on the way back to find Jesus, they were certainly surprised at his response. “Son, where have you been? Your father and I have been worried sick. Why did you do this to us?” Oh, the holy parents were human after all. That gives me hope. Mary makes it about herself, very much like I have with my kids more often than I would like to admit. “Why did you treat me this way?” Jesus had not motives toward his mom at all, no matter how she felt. But, one of the reasons the Scriptures are inspired is because they are truthful, even when it comes to exposing our naked humanity.

Jesus, twelve years old, say, “Why are you looking for me? Didn’t you know…” I have to jump in here (that’s the “real” me, interrupting the “writer” me.) Teenagers, never answer a parent’s question with the words, “Didn’t you know…” Only the Son of God has the right to do that, no other teenager in the world should ever try answering, “Where were you all night”, with “Uh, didn’t you know…”

“Writer” me is back now. Jesus said, “Didn’t you know that I must be about my Father’s business?” He knew it well enough. To be in the temple, talking about spiritual things, baffling the religious teachers felt as at home to him as pecan pie at Thanksgiving to an American Southerner. This is where He belonged. He loved and respected His earthly mother and father (read verses 51 and 52) but His true existence and work were summed up in His Heavenly Father’s will.

Do I realize that Jesus is always going about the Father’s business? And, since I call Him “Lord”, do I also consider that my business? Do I truly believe the Father’s business is about finding me a parking place at the mall when I’m running late? Is it truly the Father’s business to keep me so wrinkle free in my late 50s just because I don’t want to look my age? Is it honestly the Father’s business to make sure I make a touchdown in every game so I can point one finger somewhere up away from the planet earth?

Why did we ever get the notion that helping me succeed is all what the Father is about? But Joseph and Mary made the same supposition. They went on their way, going back home, and assumed Jesus was with them. Is it possible that we might do the same thing? “Of course He is with us, we’re going back home, aren’t we.”

We say, “Of course He’s with me, look how healthy He has kept my family.” Not to think of so many in third world countries who do not even have fresh drinking water. “Of course He’s with me, I’ve never had to go a day hungry.” Then we forget about the devastation of world hunger, not to mention the deep poverty in our own country. If Jesus is still about His Father’s business, and we claim to follow Him, maybe we should give some thought to whether we left Him a day behind us or not.

I don’t mean to say that He is ignorant or doesn’t care about our health, finances, or even our parking places. But, given the nature of our world, can we at least give some thought to where they fall in God’s priority list? And, what would we answer if Jesus asked “Are you tending to My Father’s business today?” Sometimes it tears my heart apart because I feel so uncaring and so unable to do much about the things that God is truly passionate about.

The next time I get a good parking space, maybe I should rewind 500 miles back just to make sure I haven’t left Jesus behind.