I remember being 12. I didn’t like it. I was small, painfully shy and unsure of myself. I would have made a happy hermit. I remember my children at 12. They were better and stronger than I was at that age, but they were still…12. Now I look at children who are 12 in this year. To me they seem bright, brash, and busy…but still children. (Of course, to them I seem slow, solemn, and quiet: In a word, old, when I’m actually middle-aged.)
Jesus was 12, in a culture where 12 was almost an adult. In another year he would assume the responsibilities of manhood. What was his life like? And what was he like?
He was an apprentice carpenter, learning from his father the skills of working with wood and stone. He would have made plows, chairs, houses, wheels, and saddles. He was growing in skill with adze, chisel, hammer, drill, saw, and glue. He could make mortar and shape stone to build walls, courtyards, cisterns, and more. His hands were tough and callused.
As the eldest child of his family, he lived with them in what typically would have been a one-room, mud-brick house, roofed with mud-covered reed mats. By now he had both brothers and sisters. He spoke Arabic, a soft, liquid tongue.
The diet of his family was simple. They would have dined on a porridge made of wheat or barley, supplemented by beans, lentils, cucumbers and other vegetables…with onions, leeks, garlic, and olive oil for seasoning. Watered wine was the universal drink. Only on feast days did humble Galileans eat meat.
And when Jesus was 12 he announced his knowledge of his true father…and of the true business he would become known for. It took his parents aback.
According to God’s law, every Jewish male was required to go to Jerusalem three times a year for the great festivals. In the spring it was Passover. Luke notes that Jesus’ parents observed this responsibility every year, so, in his 12th year at Passover time, off they went.
It was not a solitary journey. The closer they got to Jerusalem, the more crowded the road became. They traveled in caravans for safety, with the women and children in the front and the men following. Almost a man, Jesus would slip back and forth between the groups. It was warm. Dust hung in the air, sound of animals and children, laughter and shouts. As they neared Jerusalem they began to sing. A number of the Psalms were written specifically to be sung by pilgrims as they approached Jerusalem for the feast. (See Psalms 120ff)
Can you see and hear it? Caravans growing to crowds, crowds growing to even greater numbers, singing as they caught sight of the holy city…it was a moving, powerful sight. Josephus tells us that Jerusalem, which had a stable population of 250,000, swelled to 2, 500,000 during Passover time. It must have been a combination of Christmas, food court, reunions, Saturday market, spring break, and high holy days all at once.
The city could not hold them all. People from the various regions of Israel headed to traditional camping grounds. The people from Galilee traditionally camped on the flank of the Mount of Olives, in the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus the man and savior would later be arrested there. For now the young boy/man entered the garden with his family, helped set up camp, and headed for town with his father. And I’m out of space. More tomorrow!
Prayer: “Great Father of time and history, do you still look back and see yourself as a young man, enjoying your family, excited for Passover, enjoying the journey? Do you remember singing as you headed to Jerusalem? You were to become our great High Priest, one who knew us as only one of us could know us. How wonderful that you did not exert your limitless power and simply overwhelm us, but that you entered life with us, walked with us, ate and slept with us, worked with us and entered family life…all with us and for us. You see me with a clarity that only my brother in life could possess. I am grateful that I look at faith and it wears your face. Amen.”