Time. Alan Sorem
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story was all over the village by the evening. How Yosef and the rabbi had gone to meet the two fathers whose children had taunted Shimeon. No pleasantries were exchanged.
“Do you not remember my grandfather?” Yosef had said in a voice that could be heard in the street. The two fathers had nodded. “Do you not remember my father?” They had nodded again. “And do you know me?” Oh, yes, of course, they answered.
“Let us speak clearly to each other. What sin did my grandfather or father commit—what sin have I committed—that can be said to have been visited upon my poor lame child?”
“Yosef, Yosef , “one of the fathers replied, “the games of children. What was said is unseemly but not to be taken seriously. Mere words!”
“Words spoken with malice can pierce the heart deeper than the sharpest knife,” Yosef retorted. “Shall our sons grow to manhood in this way?”
They were silent, casting glances at each other. Yosef continued, “Yes, my youngest son has a lame leg since birth. How this has come upon him as his lot I do not know. But I wish him to grow and live in the spirit of the words of the blessed Isaiah, ‘Surely the Lord is my salvation. Therefore I will trust, and will not be afraid, for the Lord is my strength and my might.’”
Yosef had turned to the rabbi. “Rabbi, you are my witness. Do you know or have you heard of any sin I have committed to cause the Lord to visit affliction upon my son?”
“No. None.”
Yosef turned back to the two fathers.
“The matter is settled. Let there be no more false accusations against my boy. Do we understand one another?”
Nods all around.
There were no more taunts in the days that followed, but as the rabbi and Yosef walked in the street, the rabbi spoke words that Yosef later repeated several times to Shimeon’s four brothers.
“Take care, my friend. They are proud men and will remember this day for years to come.”
On the occasions when he repeated the rabbi’s words to Yeshua, Yaakob, Yosa and Yehudah, he gave each a long glance and said, “Look after your brother.”
Chapter 4
Two weeks passed. Yeshua and Yaakob were in the woodworking room. Yosa had taken the laden pony cart to make deliveries in the nearby villages.
The house was a large one for Nazareth. There were eight rooms spread about in a single storey, which included the workshop, plus a stable at the left side to shelter the donkey and milk cow and pony.
The house and the long garden behind testified to Yosef’s prosperity. The house had one interesting feature: the workshop at the right side was the only room to have a wooden door, rather than a curtain, facing the central hallway. Yosef had crafted the door in earlier years to keep the younger children from bursting in with their games and disturbing his concentration as he turned the wood.
Years ago the two older brothers had moved from apprenticeship to status as partners with their father. Recently Yosa had joined them. Today Yosa was delivering furniture while the two older brothers completed the decorative finishing touches on several items of furniture ordered by a man in Kapharnaum. And soon they were to receive word from a friend in Caesarea Maritima concerning possible orders. The seaport, one of Herod the Great’s massive projects, was now the headquarters of Pontius Pilate, the Roman prefect for central Palestine.
As he worked Yeshua thought once again about what his dying father had said to his mother. From his youth, Miriam and Yosef always had been open with him, in discipline and in instruction. What else could there be to say? When would she tell him? Perhaps it was an apology. He smiled as he remembered the one time he had seen his father truly angry with him. When he was twelve. In Yerushalayim.
Chapter 5
In Yeshua’s twelfth year a majority of the families of Nazareth decided to celebrate Passover in Yerushalayim at his father’s urging. It was to be a great encampment south of the holy city, near Bethlehem. Yosef was accustomed to the journey, as he and his growing family and some dozen villagers travelled in the spring almost every year for the annual feast. This year it would be special, a great encampment on the outskirts of the city of perhaps one hundred men, plus women and children. Yosef was to lead the way and make all the arrangements for tents and bedding and food.
For many of the villagers, the journey south would be the first time to behold the splendor of the new Temple constructed on the Temple Mount by King Herod almost four decades earlier.
Yeshua had accompanied Yosef to the Temple several times. He particularly loved the porticos around the inner courts, where the men would pass to and fro, debating the meaning of particular sayings in the Law and the Prophets.
That special year in Yerushalayim, he was so caught up in the excitement of the scene that he had lagged behind after Passover on the morning of the last visit by the men of Nazareth. The Nazarenes had offered prayers and then rejoined their families in the space designated for women and young children in the Temple’s outer precincts.
In the great crowd mulling about, he had met other awestruck Nazareth youth. As they finally rushed off to join their families, Yeshua had remained behind, promising to join them shortly. He had wanted to be part of the crowd for just a few minutes longer.
There was a spirited conversation off to the side involving two pilgrims from the south. A larger group quickly formed around them and a disputation about points of the Law ensued. In his excitement Yeshua completely forgot about his family and the scheduled departure time.
He spent the day exchanging views on holy matters. As darkness fell he moved with others to the sleeping area for pilgrims at one side of the outer courts. On the following morning he rose, excited for more conversation. He had lost all thought of his parents and the people from Nazareth. Three days passed in this manner.
As newcomers drifted into the circle around him each day, there was quiet derision from the younger men who had come to see this young bumpkin from the north.
“Nazareth,” they murmured, proud of their Yerushalayim schooling. “Not exactly a center of learning, is it?” They laughed their soft laughs as they nudged one another. And most of them drifted on.
But some stayed for the give and take of profound holy reflection.
“Come hear this child from Nazareth,” word from the older men went around. “He is a prodigy of wisdom. Truly a blessing from the Lord!”
Yeshua was involved in an exchange with one of the older rabbis, the one with wise eyes, early in the morning of the fourth day when he suddenly saw his father striding toward him. As he saw the dark thundercloud in Yosef’s face, he realized with a shock that he had completely forgotten all the Nazarenes and the departure for home.
Yosef waded through the circle of men around Yeshua and gave him a hard shake.
“Your mother and I have been searching high and low for you. And here you are, when we thought you had been eaten by wild animals!”
“Father, forgive me. I completely forgot.”
Still holding his son, Yosef looked around at the circle of men. “We were with the Galilean encampment—a large group of people of Nazareth. I believed my son was with the other youth, and only after two day’s journey did I realize he was nowhere to be found. What happened?”
Several men drifted away, not wishing to be part of an acrimonious reunion. But the wise-eyed man spoke quietly.
“We thought he was staying each night with a relative. He has amazed us daily with his knowledge, which he surely must have learned from you, his father.”
Oblivious to the remark, Yosef pulled Yeshua aside and growled at his son. “And you, young pup, what do you have to say, yes? Speak up!”
“I am in my father’s