She Treasured These Things in Her Heart
June 28, 2025 - Saturday, the Immaculate Heart of the Blessed Virgin Mary
Luke 2:41–51
Every year, Mary and Joseph made the pilgrimage to Jerusalem—a family tradition rooted in faith (Luke 2:41). This time, they brought along their twelve-year-old son, Jesus. At that age, Jewish boys were preparing for their bar mitzvah—the moment they would become “sons of the covenant.” Jesus, filled with wisdom, wasn’t just learning—He was already teaching. And everyone in the temple was amazed by Him (Luke 2:47).
But something unsettling happens. After the feast, Jesus stays behind. Mary and Joseph don’t realize it at first, and it takes them three days to find Him. This moment casts a quiet shadow of the cross—because, years later, another three-day search will end in a very different kind of finding.
When they find Jesus, Mary speaks like any mother would: “Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you.” But Jesus gently corrects her: “Didn’t you know I must be in my Father’s house?” (Luke 2:48–49).
His words are hard to understand—then and now. Mary and Joseph are confused, just as the disciples would later be when Jesus spoke about the cross. As Luke tells us, understanding only comes when the Risen Christ opens our minds to the Scriptures (Luke 24:45).
Jesus’ response also carries a quiet rebuke—and a reminder. Why were you searching? You should have known where to find me. For Saint Augustine, that place is within. He wrote: “You were within me, but I was outside myself.” We chase after beauty, purpose, and meaning in the world around us, when God is waiting for us—closer than we think.
The Greek word Jesus uses—“I must”—shows up often in the Gospels, especially when He talks about His suffering and mission: “The Son of Man must suffer many things…” (Mark 8:31). Already, at twelve, Jesus knows: His life belongs fully to His Father.
The Gospel closes with a quiet line that holds deep weight: “Mary treasured all these things in her heart.” (Luke 2:51). Luke likely heard these childhood stories of Jesus from Mary herself. Pope Benedict XVI once wrote that these memories were passed down as part of the family’s living faith tradition.
And that leads us to the question:
What do we treasure?
Do we treasure the sacred traditions passed down in our families—however fragile or fractured they may be?
Do we remember our own stories of encountering God—those quiet moments of mystery, confusion, discovery?
To treasure something is to hold it close, reflect on it deeply, and return to it often. That’s how Mary lived her faith. Maybe that’s how we can live ours.