By Gary Topping–
Christian theology includes a doctrine called the “hypostatic union,” which is the idea that Jesus’ nature is both fully divine and fully human. The history of Christian doctrine offers a number of examples of ideas that have veered too far to one side or the other of that balance and have been branded as heretical. We have just celebrated Christmas and Epiphany, which emphasize Jesus’ divinity, but in this essay I want to focus on the other side of the equation, his humanity. We get this, among other places, from the famous kenosis passage in St. Paul’s letter to the Philippians (2:6-8): “Though [Jesus] was in the form of God, he did not deem equality with God something to be grasped at. Rather, he emptied himself and took the form of a slave, being born in the likeness of men. He was known to be of human estate, and it was thus that he humbled himself, obediently accepting even death, death on a cross”! Perhaps because I spent so many years in the classroom, first as a student then as a teacher, that I find it easy to see Jesus’ so-called “lost years” as a process of education, in which he acquired both factual knowledge and a sense of self-awareness of who he was as a person and what his role in life was going to be.
For example, there is the story of Joseph and Mary leaving Jerusalem to return to Nazareth only to discover that they had unwittingly left Jesus behind, later discovering him in the temple. (I can never read that story, incidentally, without being appalled at their laissez faire style of parenting, just assuming, without being certain, that Jesus was somewhere out there in that bunch of kids—Joseph and Mary as a couple of 1960s hippies!) When they finally found him (three days later!) he was “sitting in the midst of the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. All who heard him were amazed at his intelligence and his answers.” (Luke 2: 46-47) A precocious student indeed, but a student nevertheless, not yet a teacher.
During the Christmas season, my wife picked up a special National Geographic publication called “Jesus and the Origins of Christianity.” In it, one of the writers offers the intriguing speculation that St. Joseph made his living primarily as a farmer, and that he was known as a carpenter because he would occasionally exercise woodworking skills that other farmers did not possess. His reasoning on this comes from the observation that in Jesus’ teaching as an adult, most of his parables and metaphors come from agriculture rather than carpentry: the wheat and the tares, the seed falling on good soil and rocky soil, the parable of the mustard seed, and so forth. So Jesus’ education as a boy took place not only in the classroom, but also out in the fields.
Finally, I can see Jesus’ education being completed out in the desert during his forty days of fasting and temptation. Although the Bible treats those temptations as coming directly from Satan, I can imagine them coming as well from within Jesus himself, as he reflected on the options facing him as an adult. Becoming aware that he possessed supernatural powers, how was he going to exercise them? On the one hand, he could become, as Satan wanted him to, a sort of carnival magician wowing people by turning stones into loaves of bread, or jumping off the temple and ordering angels to break his fall. Or he could give himself a life of luxury and self-indulgence, enjoying vast riches and power. Instead, of course, he chose to use his powers in salvific ways (how I love that word!), bringing about the kingdom of God through healing, teaching and self-sacrificing example.
Thinking of Jesus as a student is a powerful encouragement to me, for even at my advanced age I still think of myself as a student. In everything I read, everything I observe and experience, in every conversation, I try to find those things that not only add to my knowledge but also refine my personality, making me more humane and understanding, more like, in other words, what Jesus himself became as an adult.
