Uncle Ben: “Pete, you’re changing. I know. I went through exactly the same thing at your age.”
Peter Parker: “No. Not exactly.”
Uncle Ben: “Peter, these are the years when a man changes into the man he’s going to become the rest of his life. Just be careful who you change into.”
Peter Parker: “Are you afraid that I’m going to turn into some kind of criminal.”
Uncle Ben: “No.”
Peter Parker: “Quit worrying about me, o.k. Something’s different. I’ll figure it out. Stop lecturing me. Please!”
Uncle Ben: “I don’t mean to lecture and I don’t mean to preach. And I know I’m not your father…”
Peter Parker: “Then stop pretending to be!”
Uncle Ben nods his head in resignation: “Right.”

The tension between Uncle Ben and young Peter Parker is palpable. Neither person is in the wrong. Both are doing their best to communicate to one another. Yet, both feel as if they are not being heard.

Welcome to the pain and glory of adolescence!

The dialogue between Uncle Ben and Peter Parker is not unlike that between Mary and Jesus in the only story we possess from Jesus’ childhood years.

In the Gospel According to Luke, we encounter Jesus as an adolescent (Luke 2:39-52). Jesus is growing up, and like all families, this creates great challenges and opportunities. Adolescence is not easy for any family – including the holy family. The tension, pain, and miscommunication between mother and son is clear and unmistable in Luke’s story.

Adolescence

Adolescence is a time of transition from childhood to young adulthood. It is a difficult and turbulent time involving great change. During adolescence, children fashion their own identity. They do this by differentiating themselves from those closest to them, that is, their parents. Aware that they are not their parents, yet not quite sure who they are or what they should be, they grapple with their own sense of identity.

The process of learning to be their own person involves creating their own set of rules to guide and form their opinion. “In making their own set of rules, teenagers incorporate some rules taught in childhood, but they also reject others and substitute new ones, until the mix becomes acceptable to them and useful as a guide for adulthood.”[1]

This process is not easy for the adolescent or his or her parents. Perhaps the most painful aspect of adolescence is that in order to grow, teenagers must learn “to view their parents as ordinary human beings rather than as omnipotent ones.”[2] Fathers are no longer perceived as heroes who can brave every dilemma and fix every problem. Mothers are no longer perceived as necessary caregivers or sages with all the answers. In short, adolescents must experience a mild disillusionment with reality – including their parents – in order to figure out how to relate to society as their own person.

Understandably, the whole process is riddled with tension, pain, misunderstanding, and miscommunication. To add fuel to the fire, adolescent impatience heightens the tension. Teenagers are more likely to take risks, both constructive and destructive, in order to establish control over their lives. This behavior increases parental concerns, since parents are aware of the deep and lasting significance of decisions made during this life stage. Parents recognize Uncle Ben’s wisdom expressed to Peter Parker, “These are the years when a man changes into the man he’s going to become the rest of his life. Just be careful who you change into.”

This volatile mix is all part of growing up. These growing pains are impossible to escape. This was true even for Jesus. In coming to grips with his own identity, Jesus had to distance himself from his parents. He expressed adolescent impatience and insensitivity with his question, “Why are you searching for me?” He experienced the pain of miscommunication with his mother Mary: “Nothing could express more sharply the gulf between them than the divergent ways in which mother and son are using the word ‘father.’ ‘Your father’ on Mary’s lips refers to her husband Joseph; Jesus means his Father in heaven.”[3]

Jesus in the Temple

Luke’s story of Jesus’ adolescence takes place during the celebration of Passover in Jerusalem. Jesus’ parents were devout and law-abiding. They made it their habit to travel the long distance from Galilee to Nazareth to attend Passover “every year… as usual” (42). This particular Passover celebration was significant for the twelve-year old Jesus. Next year when he turned thirteen, he would enter into full manhood with its accompanying adult responsibilities.

But like many adolescents, Jesus desired to grow up just a little too quickly. He jumped the gun and stayed behind in Jerusalem when his parents’ traveling party left to return to Galilee. Luke’s story makes it clear: Jesus was not left behind on accident; he stayed behind on purpose.

It took Jesus’ parents three days to find their lost son. Any parent who has ever lost his or her child in a crowd knows the feelings of terror, helplessness, and anger that arise on such occasions. And for Joseph and Mary, these feelings continued unabated for what must have seemed like an eternity.

Finally, they found Jesus sitting in the Temple among the religious teachers. His posture describes either a student listening or a rabbi teaching. He was not only learning from others, but he was also teaching the teachers. The crowds “were amazed at his understanding and his answers” (47). His remarkable intellect and insight were obvious even at twelve.

Like the crowds, Joseph and Mary were amazed at first. But once Mary’s sense of relief wore off, she released her frustration at Jesus in harsh accusation: “How could you treat us like this? Your father and I were worried to death!”

Jesus did not answer his mother’s question nor did he apologize for his actions. Instead, like a typical adolescent, he defended his actions. His first question, “Why were you searching for me?” could be paraphrased, “What are you doing here?” Jesus didn’t seem to understand why his parents were so upset. He was surprised that they were surprised. From his perspective, they should have known where he would be. Some hear in Jesus’ question a gentle rebuke. I hear typical adolescent inconsideration and impatience. (By the way, there is nothing necessarily sinful about this. This is simply part of what it means to grow up. And if Jesus was truly human, he would have certainly experienced each stage of life with all its joys and particular struggles.)

Jesus’ second question gets to the heart of his developing sense of identity: “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?”[4] It is vital to note how Jesus had redefined “father.” Mary and Jesus used “father” in two different ways. When Mary said, “Your father and I were worried to death over losing you,” she was referring to Joseph. Jesus, however, spoke of God as his father and his vocation as an immersion in “the affairs” of his father.

In this experience Jesus encountered the major hurdle of adolescence. He was growing in his sense of identity and purpose. And like all adolescents, this change was something he had to face on his own. Even his devout parents didn’t quite understand. Like all of us, Jesus had to wrestle with his own identity and role. No one could do this for him – not even those closest to him.

And yet, Jesus’ desire to grow up was a bit premature. He was still only twelve years old. In his culture, he would not enter into the full responsibilities of adulthood for another year. On the edge of becoming a man, he continued as the obedient son, returning to Galilee with Mary and Joseph to live a relatively quiet life until God’s call to public ministry placed him on the world’s stage.

A Mother’s Pain

Jesus must have been an ideal son. Mary and Joseph were surely godly parents. And yet, even for the holy family it was not easy. Growth comes at a price. There are no simple formulas to guarantee a good outcome. There are no principles to make it easy. It is impossible to escape growing pains.

No matter where we are in life, we can identify with this story: “What readers cannot identify with the shock, anguish, and confusion of the parents, or the tension felt by the adolescent between piety owed parents and the pull of a higher vocation?”[5]

Even though adolescence brings tension, pain, and confusion, it is always the parents who are better equipped to navigate the storm. If for no other reason, they have the benefit of having been through adolescence. They should know better.

But knowing better does not lessen the pain. Indeed, it may intensify it. The aged Simeon described Mary’s pain in this way: “a sword will pierce your own soul” (Luke 2:35).  “Here is surely the moment when the sword begins to pass through Mary’s spirit. Even the most faithful and privileged individuals, those closest to Jesus, are not going to be exempt from pain and misunderstanding as he goes about his mission.”[6]

Mary was a good and godly mother. Yet, even she had to learn how to give up her son into God’s hands. She had to learn that her child was not her own, but a gift from God for the world. She had to view Jesus as a stewardship she was entrusted with, and not as a possession for her own use.

Mary’s pain may have been lessened (or at least made a little more tolerable) if she could have remembered one thing: her own adolescence! Had she already forgotten the radical faith she expressed at age twelve when she responded to the angel with “Here I am, the servant of the Lord; Let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38)? Had she already forgotten the great risk she took in accepting God’s will? Had she already forgotten how she had to discover her own identity and role apart from her family? Had she lost her parent’s love and respect because of her decision? And would Jesus lose hers?

Of all people, Mary should have known what it is like to become your own person, to discover your own identity, to take your own path. But like many of us parents, Mary easily forgot the challenges of adolescence.

It is impossible to escape growing pains. If the holy family could not do it, then neither can we.

Holy Creator of heaven and earth,
we thank You for the children that You have entrusted to us. 
We want to cooperate with You fully in helping them grow
into free, responsible, and faithful persons.

Our Abba,
you are the model of parenthood.
Teach us what to give and what to withhold.
Show us when to reprove and when to praise.
Make us gentle and considerate, yet firm and watchful.
Keep us from weak indulgence, or from great severity.
Give us the courage to be disliked sometimes by our children, when we must do necessary things for their good and growth.
Give us the imagination to enter into their world in order to understand and guide them.
Give us all the virtues we need to lead them by word and example in the path of righteousness.

Note: For a helpful resource in working out ways to help guide children to embrace their full potential, I recommend The Childhood Roots of Adult Happiness by Edward M. Hallowell. You can read my summary here.

© Richard J. Vincent, 2008