Obedient
“He went down to Nazareth with them, and was continually submissive and obedient to them.” — Luke 2:51, AMP
For three days, the 12-year-old Jesus has been right in the middle of temple scholars and they are all completely mesmerized.
His wisdom is breathtaking and irresistible.
His awareness of His divine identity and knowledge of “His Father’s business” is unmistakable.
And then when His parents find him, He immediately leaves the Jerusalem temple and goes home with them.
Back to Nazareth. Back to the carpentry workshop and domestic chores.
Back to honoring Mary and Joseph in the ordinary rhythm of daily life.
For eighteen solid years – through the turbulent teenage years into full manhood – the Creator of galaxies lives under His parents’ roof.
I guess in a society where men would go away and start their own families in their late teens, many would wonder what a mature man was still doing in his father’s house.
He worked with His hands. He spoke with respect.
He submitted to their authority.
The one who rightfully commands angels chose to honor earthly parents.
Now, this isn’t just a historical detail. It’s a living pattern for our lives.
If anyone ever had the right to say, “I am old enough to know better,” it was Jesus.
Perfect in every way, without sin, in constant fellowship with the Father; yet, He humbled Himself.
The Greek verb that Luke uses implies a continuing posture: Jesus kept on being obedient.
Not grudgingly. Not temporarily. Continually.
Think about what this means.
Jesus perfectly fulfilled the Fifth Commandment: “Honor your father and mother” (Exodus 20:12), not because Mary and Joseph were perfect, but because the act of submission itself was right and good in the eyes of God.
His obedience wasn’t about their perfection; it was about His faithfulness.
Choose obedience and submission, not once but at all times. Not as a chain, but as a crown.
Before Jesus called the world to “Follow me,” He showed us how to follow.
Before He took up the cross, He took up the tools in Joseph’s shop, faithfully fulfilling the mundane duties of a son.
True strength, He demonstrated, is found in godly submission.
Dear youth, this is both comfort and challenge.
In a culture that prizes independence above all else, Scripture calls us to a different path: the path of humble submission while under parental care.
Your obedience is not a cultural rule to outgrow; it’s a divine ordinance modeled by Christ Himself.
When you honor your parents in the thousand small decisions of daily life – curfews, chores, spiritual guidance about friends or studies – you’re not just obeying them.
You’re following Jesus, who “learned obedience through the things that He suffered” (Hebrews 5:8).
Yes, this doesn’t mean blind obedience when parents ask you to sin.
Jesus Himself knew His mission was to be “about His Father’s business.”
But in the everyday rhythms of family life, choosing obedience becomes a quiet act of discipleship.
You’re saying, “Lord, I trust Your placement of me.
I trust the authorities You have set, and I will honor You by honoring them.”
And for those of us beyond our parents’ roof?
The principle deepens. We move from obedience to honor -caring for aging parents, seeking their wisdom, carrying their legacy with grace.
Paul reminds us: “Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right” (Ephesians 6:1).
The heart posture remains: reverence that reflects Christ.
Dear parents, we’re stewards of God’s children, the first living parable of His authority and love that our children will know.
Let’s nurture, not just independent individuals, but submissive and dependent disciples, dependent on God, expressed through respecting God-given authority.
Jesus’ obedience in Nazareth sanctified the ordinary.
It shows us that our faithfulness in the small, unseen duties of family life isn’t separate from our spirituality. It’s the very furnace where it is forged.
Choose obedience and submission, not once but at all times.
Not as a chain, but as a crown.
And in that humble path, we continually get transformed into Christ’s likeness.
