41 Now his parents went to Jerusalem every year at the feast of the passover. 42 And when he was twelve years old, they went up to Jerusalem after the custom of the feast. 43 And when they had fulfilled the days, as they returned, the child Jesus tarried behind in Jerusalem; and Joseph and his mother knew not of it. 44 But they, supposing him to have been in the company, went a day’s journey; and they sought him among their kinsfolk and acquaintance. 45 And when they found him not, they turned back again to Jerusalem, seeking him. 46 And it came to pass, that after three days they found him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the doctors, both hearing them, and asking them questions. 47 And all that heard him were astonished at his understanding and answers. 48 And when they saw him, they were amazed: and his mother said unto him, Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us? behold, thy father and I have sought thee sorrowing. 49 And he said unto them, How is it that ye sought me? wist ye not that I must be about my Father’s business? 50 And they understood not the saying which he spake unto them. 51 And he went down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was subject unto them: but his mother kept all these sayings in her heart. 52 And Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man. Luke 2:40--52
On Saturday, I visited an exhibit on Rembrandt's late works. (It was also my first return to the renovated Rijksmuseum.) I encountered quite a few old favorites, but had never seen Rembrandt's last incomplete work, Simeon with the Christ Child in the Temple, before. I intend to do a distinct post on it before long. In reflecting on it, I realized that the story is only mentioned in the Gospel according to Luke 2. In re-reading that Gospel my eye fell on the very next episode, Jesus among the scholars (which also can be found only in Luke) quoted above. Rembrandt etched it a number of times (see here), including (unusually) the return trip to Nazareth (with boy Jesus looking up at his mom).
It's an odd episode with the parents not noticing the absence of their son while they were on the road. Once they noticed it, it seems they mistakenly thought he had moved ahead of them back to their friends and family. At this point, modern folk would initiate an Amber Alert (Child Abduction Emergency), -- what do you mean, you didn't notice his absence for a day? -- but Joseph and Mary backtracked instead. By the time they found Jesus they would have been very anxious. It's no surprise, then, that his mother has no room for relief (at finding him alive) nor pride (at his intellectual understanding) and is rather upset (and clearly takes the situation personally). It's a nice narrative touch. (Joseph's response is unrecorded.)
I was a bit sad to note that Spinoza does not discuss the episode (Christ among the scholars) because it might have offered a clue to his understanding of his autobiography (not to mention round out his complex Christology--the topic of Jo Van Cauter's dissertation [my student]). In fact, Spinoza is entirely silent on Luke; I am not sure what to make of this.
The episode has two core, interwoven themes in Luke: first, the complex interactions among parental, godly, and intellectual authority.* Second, the mutual incomprehension and misperceptions of family members. The connection between the two themes is, I suspect, that our expectations of each other's behavior are guided by our perceptions of authority of others and self. Jesus is surprised that his parents didn't know where to find him because he falsely assumes they already understand him. We might say that Mary and Joseph project their concerns (family and friends) onto their expectations of their child, while the boy falsely assumes that his commitments are part of the expectations of his parents's view of him.
Before he has reached manhood (at age thirteen), precocious Jesus is already capable of engaging the scholars on equal, intellectual level. But he has not quite mastered the complexity of human life. There is no guarantee that with age one does master it--after all, the episode exhibits the parents' lack of wisdom in such matters. But the Gospel of Luke is right to insist that one can grow in wisdom despite excelling at intellectual matters. Our intellectual cultivation is only a part of human wisdom.
There is, of course, a third theme in the episode, that occurred to me after my lunch with my father today: Mary's eventual acceptance of her child's nature despite her lack of understanding of his choices. And here I was struck that the father's perception is left out of the matter altogether. (This is, in fact, a recurring theme in Luke 2.) It's as if such treasuring is too much to be hoped for among fathers (the carriers of traditional authority); alternative, what's it's like to be a father is taken as uninteresting to metaphysicians and theologians, that is, lovers of god (Theophilus; see Luke 1:3 [recall here and here]).
And here my mind returns to Rembrandt's gaze at his son Titus. The son's mind's eye is preoccupied with his studies (or, perhaps, something more fascinating). He does not see his father's gaze (which would be a miracle, of course, once you imagine the implied perspective of where the father-the-artist-is-at-work). In his painting, Rembrandt accepts this invisibility and thereby, without showing himself, shows what it ought to be like without allowing us to question what it's really like.
*Jesus, who does not submit to intellectual authority, eventually submits to (traditional) parental authority, but not before making clear it is in some sense unnatural for him given his intellectual understanding about his own, proper nature (that is, he belongs in God's house).
Your student, Jo Van Cauter's dissertation is timely. This is one of the features of Spinoza's views about religion that is not well-discussed (and, I think, perhaps a primary impediment to the Leo Strass reading, overall.) It is interesting---per your remark that both Simeon and the Christ Child, and Jesus among the scholars, are to be found in a gospel that many NT scholars regard as interpreting Jesus essentially as a prophet---and subjected to the rejection that some of the prophets experienced. Yet Spinoza clearly does not regard treating Jesus as a prophet because he has a different kind of knowledge, and "aims to improve men's minds"--according to one TTP passage--rather than their behavior.
Posted by: Keith Green | 03/30/2015 at 10:39 PM
I don't know enough about the Jewish community or Catholic theology that Spinoza would have access too but it is possible that he may be downplaying some of the interpretations that go against community. The account in Luke for instance is mirrored in some views of Saints as breaking away from the community and state. An example of this is Mar Qarbagh. Joel Walker has a translation of some of the narratives about him. There is an analogy between the demystifying and reduction of claims of the Zoroastrian religion, the Seleucid state and familial relations. The analogy links the claims to the imagery of the Christ Child as part of a developmental account of his path to the crucification. This is duplicated through multiple Saint Figures in the piece.
Posted by: Aaron Alvarez | 04/01/2015 at 09:09 PM