have seen the Savior, the one who will save His own people and be a light to the Gentiles.”
An old woman named Anna, a widow of eighty-four years who also stayed at the temple praying day and night, rushed over and looked at the baby and broke out in a song of praise and worship. Between Simeon and Anna holding Jesus, dancing around together —as best as two people in their eighties can dance around—it was quite the spectacle. A small crowd began to gather when the temple priest came out to see what was going on.
“We’ve brought our son to be circumcised in keeping with the Law of Moses,” Joseph told him.
The priest led them inside. I didn’t go. I never developed the stomach it took to watch a circumcision. I was happy to wait on the steps. The priest who circumcised Jesus that day was this priest who now stood looking into Jesus’ eyes twelve years later.
“Still, you can’t just barge into the temple,” the priest said. “Who do you think you are?”
Jesus looked down at the marble floor for a moment and then looked right back into the priest’s eyes.
“That’s why I’m here. I want you to tell Me who I am.”
The priest glanced quickly from side to side, checking to see if anyone was around to whom Jesus might belong. Seeing no one, the priest took Jesus by the hand and led Him into the inner room. Just as I was about to follow, the priest closed the curtain, and I could not pass through. Somewhat relieved, I sat down on the steps and waited.
It was dusk, and most of the crowds had gone home when Jesus emerged from the priest’s quarters. He walked quickly down the marble steps, looking neither to the left nor right but ran straightway out of the temple grounds back toward the caravan that was settling in for the night.
Over the centuries, being a keen observer of humanity, I can always tell from the smallest variance in behavior when a human has experienced a fundamental shift in psyche. Jesus was different than He had been a few hours earlier. I wanted to ask Him what happened in there, but I knew it would be futile. The Jesus who winked at me as a baby was gone. From that day forward I feared I was as invisible to Him as I was to any ordinary human.
By the time we reached the caravan His parents had discovered Him missing and were frantically running from tent to tent looking for Him. When Mary saw Him walking across the campsite toward her, she ran to Him and thrust her arms around Him. Joseph was right behind her.
“Where have You been?” she asked.
“Don’t You know how worried we were?” Joseph asked as he put a hand on Jesus’ shoulder.
“I’m sorry I made you worry, but I had to be about my Father’s business.”
Jesus bowed quickly to His parents, then ran off toward their tent.
Mary was trembling when Joseph put his arm around her.
“It’s too soon,” she said. “Do you think…?”
“He knows,” Joseph answered.
C HAPTER 8
J OHN , J ESUS’ COUSIN , stayed with the Essenes for several years. During that time I stayed close to Jesus. I never saw Him do one single thing in all those years that looked God-ish. He worked with Joseph learning the carpenter’s trade. He studied the Torah and the prophets and had long talks with the rabbis at the synagogue. Usually when a young man like Jesus showed the aptitude for the Scriptures, the elders and rabbis whisked him into advanced teaching that would send the lad on his way to becoming a rabbi or a priest. Not so with Jesus. The rumors about the strange circumstances surrounding His birth would stay with Him throughout His life.
When Joseph died, it was Jesus who supported His mother and brothers and sisters until the kids were able to take care of themselves. I liked Jesus so much that I didn’t mind spending all those years waiting for Him to do something that looked like what the Messiah should do. I stayed out of the second heaven, because I had nothing to report. I must admit that I began to wonder if it had
An old woman named Anna, a widow of eighty-four years who also stayed at the temple praying day and night, rushed over and looked at the baby and broke out in a song of praise and worship. Between Simeon and Anna holding Jesus, dancing around together —as best as two people in their eighties can dance around—it was quite the spectacle. A small crowd began to gather when the temple priest came out to see what was going on.
“We’ve brought our son to be circumcised in keeping with the Law of Moses,” Joseph told him.
The priest led them inside. I didn’t go. I never developed the stomach it took to watch a circumcision. I was happy to wait on the steps. The priest who circumcised Jesus that day was this priest who now stood looking into Jesus’ eyes twelve years later.
“Still, you can’t just barge into the temple,” the priest said. “Who do you think you are?”
Jesus looked down at the marble floor for a moment and then looked right back into the priest’s eyes.
“That’s why I’m here. I want you to tell Me who I am.”
The priest glanced quickly from side to side, checking to see if anyone was around to whom Jesus might belong. Seeing no one, the priest took Jesus by the hand and led Him into the inner room. Just as I was about to follow, the priest closed the curtain, and I could not pass through. Somewhat relieved, I sat down on the steps and waited.
It was dusk, and most of the crowds had gone home when Jesus emerged from the priest’s quarters. He walked quickly down the marble steps, looking neither to the left nor right but ran straightway out of the temple grounds back toward the caravan that was settling in for the night.
Over the centuries, being a keen observer of humanity, I can always tell from the smallest variance in behavior when a human has experienced a fundamental shift in psyche. Jesus was different than He had been a few hours earlier. I wanted to ask Him what happened in there, but I knew it would be futile. The Jesus who winked at me as a baby was gone. From that day forward I feared I was as invisible to Him as I was to any ordinary human.
By the time we reached the caravan His parents had discovered Him missing and were frantically running from tent to tent looking for Him. When Mary saw Him walking across the campsite toward her, she ran to Him and thrust her arms around Him. Joseph was right behind her.
“Where have You been?” she asked.
“Don’t You know how worried we were?” Joseph asked as he put a hand on Jesus’ shoulder.
“I’m sorry I made you worry, but I had to be about my Father’s business.”
Jesus bowed quickly to His parents, then ran off toward their tent.
Mary was trembling when Joseph put his arm around her.
“It’s too soon,” she said. “Do you think…?”
“He knows,” Joseph answered.
C HAPTER 8
J OHN , J ESUS’ COUSIN , stayed with the Essenes for several years. During that time I stayed close to Jesus. I never saw Him do one single thing in all those years that looked God-ish. He worked with Joseph learning the carpenter’s trade. He studied the Torah and the prophets and had long talks with the rabbis at the synagogue. Usually when a young man like Jesus showed the aptitude for the Scriptures, the elders and rabbis whisked him into advanced teaching that would send the lad on his way to becoming a rabbi or a priest. Not so with Jesus. The rumors about the strange circumstances surrounding His birth would stay with Him throughout His life.
When Joseph died, it was Jesus who supported His mother and brothers and sisters until the kids were able to take care of themselves. I liked Jesus so much that I didn’t mind spending all those years waiting for Him to do something that looked like what the Messiah should do. I stayed out of the second heaven, because I had nothing to report. I must admit that I began to wonder if it had
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