“And Jesus increased in wisdom and age and favor before God and man. (Luke 2:52)
We know very little about Jesus’ life between infancy and adulthood, the so called “hidden years.” Only in Luke’s gospel do we encounter him after his presentation in the temple as a baby for circumcision and before his baptism at about age 30. What we do know of those years is depicted in today’s gospel; it’s Passover, he’s 12 years old, once again in the temple at Jerusalem, this time for his bar mitzvah, the ceremonial rite of passage for adolescent boys to become full fledged members of the Jewish community. Our sacrament of confirmation is patterned after this ancient initiation rite.
Following his bar mitzvah, Jesus would have been expected to follow all requirements of religious and civil law, such as praying daily, observing Sabbaths and holy days, obeying dietary rules, performing works of charity. It was the custom then as now to invite the young person assuming adult status in the community to read from and comment upon the weekly Torah selection. We’re told that Jesus remained in Jerusalem by himself following the ceremony to talk with temple doctors, rabbis, and learned men about scripture and Jewish history and that they were amazed at his understanding and maturity.
Clearly by age twelve, Jesus had already been well schooled in the tenets of Judaism. Every year including this one, for example, as observant Jews his parents made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem during Passover. Three days after his bar mitzvah, Luke tells us, Jesus returned to Nazareth with his parents, continued under their care and authority, and advanced “in wisdom and age and favor before God and man,” translated as wisdom and holiness in earlier editions of the bible.
In other words, Jesus grew to maturity not only in terms of years and physical development, but grew in terms of wisdom and spiritual insight. Without doubt, Mary and Joseph did an extraordinary job of parenting the Son of God.
“Wisdom,” according to the Book of Proverbs, “is more precious than rubies…better than the purest gold.” Webster defines “wisdom” as “knowledge with capacity to use it rightly; perception of best ends and best means.” Wisdom is the ability to handle any situation with spiritual sensitivity and good judgment. It’s the ability to see the world through God’s eyes; to know how and when to act as God requires.
What does God require? The prophet Micah answered concisely over 2700 years ago – “…Do justice, love kindness and walk humbly with your God.” (Micah 6:8) Jesus, the last and greatest prophet, makes it even simpler -- “Love one another as I have loved you.”
Having knowledge is not the same as having wisdom. Someone with little or no book learning, for example, can succeed in distilling from experience and reflection the fundamentals of human existence, while someone with great book learning remains a fool. That’s because wisdom, in addition to knowledge, requires compassion, mercy, justice, humility, spiritual insight, and, most importantly, action. In the divine scheme of things, you see, to know what’s right and not do what’s right is worthless. We’re supposed to help build the kingdom, after all, not stand idly like sidewalk superintendents – watching.
In one of my all-time favorite movies, Casablanca, the hero, Rick Blaine, played by Humphrey Bogart, is portrayed at first as a cynical, suspicious, and self-centered man. He stays ahead of the game by looking out only for himself and not giving in to tender feelings. When a desperate man is arrested by the Gestapo in Rick’s bar, the man asks Rick, “Why didn’t you help me?” and Rick sneers, “I don’t stick my neck out for anyone.”
Living in French Morocco amid the cruelty and insanity of the Second World War, Rick has learned that only the someone who looks out for himself survives. He’d been hurt by life when in Parish he made the “mistake” of taking someone else’s welfare, Elsa, played by Ingrid Bergman, as seriously as his own. He’s grown cynical, detached, and successful. At some level, however, he realizes that something’s missing from his life. Circumstances have forced him to become tough and uncaring, but he looks at the Nazi officers stationed in Casablanca, tough, powerful, unfeeling, and knows that he doesn’t want to be like them.
Flashes of decency break through during the movie, until at the end he gives up his chance for escape and happiness in an act of generosity to the woman he still loves. When Elsa flies to England, it’s her husband, a leader in the resistance movement who sits next to her and Rick’s condemned to wander North Africa, a fugitive from the Nazis. He found life unsatisfying when he worried only about himself, but in the process of saving and enriching the lives of others; his own life begins to take on meaning. Rick feels alienated from life when he cares only about himself, but experiences spiritual fulfillment when he gives up home, wealth, and security in a noble act of self-sacrifice.
Rick discovers a pearl of wisdom – living for self never brings satisfaction. Only living for others does. Consider, for example, our roster of saints – people whose inspiring, fulfilling lives grew from losing themselves in loving service to others. A woman who was celebrating her one hundredth birthday was being interviewed by the local newspaper reporter.
“To what do you attribute your longevity and good health?” She was asked. “Well,” replied the woman, “I never drank and I never smoked. I always got enough sleep, and whenever I felt ill, I went right to the doctor.” “I loved my husband and my children the best I knew how, and I love the Lord, I go to church every Sunday, you know.” “And,” she added, almost as an afterthought, “I always tried to keep busy and do whatever I could to help out – as I do with Miss Sadie.” “Miss Sadie?” inquired the reporter. “Who’s she?” “Oh,” said the woman, “she’s the lovely little woman down the street. She’ll be eighty-eight next week, but poor thing, she broke her hip last month. So I go down to her house every day just to check up on her. Why just yesterday, I brought her some of my nice homemade biscuits. What a dear one she is.”
Abraham Joshua Heshel, a prominent 20th century Jewish theologian in the twilight of his years said: “When I was young, I admired clever people, now that I am old, I admire kind people.” Admirable woman of “wisdom” and “holiness,” that 100 year old birthday celebrant, wouldn’t you say?
Anthony J. Sciolino
Feast of the Holy Family.
December 28, 2003. (Cycle C)
Sirach 3:2-6, 12-14
John 3:1-2, 21-24
Luke 2:41-42.