Chapter 2: Joseph, Part 1

Joseph her husband was a righteous man...

Faith is an active process.  It grows with experience and is nurtured by the lives of those closest to us.  The faith of a father that grows as it watches his child grow is an awe-inspiring thing.  There is an old man I know that can help me understand this process.  He is a carpenter in a small town and still operates a profitable business on the shores of an inland sea.

Joseph?  May I have a moment of your time?

Ah, customers!  Yes, yes, of course.  Come in and have a seat.  I have some tea brewing, won’t you have a cup?  Of course you will.  I insist.  Now as I pour tell me how I can help you.  Perhaps a bookcase for a fine library...

No, what I'd...

No bookcase?  Ah, I know.  Chairs.  I make the finest chairs in all of Galilee.  Sturdy furniture, yet comfortable...

No, not chairs either.  What I'd like to ask...

I have it!  Carved paneling!  I may be old, but my hands are a skilled and steady as ever.  Don’t worry, I know exactly what you’re looking for.  Let’s see, something in mahogany, perhaps.  No, too dark.  Ash!  That’s perfect...

No, Joseph, it’s about your son...

Son?  Which one?  I’m so glad you’ve asked about them for their workmanship is almost equal to mine now, especially James, my oldest.  He is such an artist with a chisel!

No, not James.  I meant....

Oh.  I see.

I'm sorry, Joseph.  You look so distressed.  Is something wrong?

No, no.  It’s not... well.  It’s very hard to speak about him now.  I understand so little.  The learned men say that he blasphemes and... I would not presume to contradict them, but...have you ever heard him teach?  How can they say such teaching, such authority is blasphemy?  Sometimes they can be so blind and I know what I have seen and heard!  And what I have seen and heard leads me against their understanding.  I tell you now I am as proud of him as I would be if he were my own flesh.

Then, he is not your son, after all.

Ah, now I’ve put my foot in the hive once again!  Of course, you are not of our community and do not know the whole story.  In truth, most in this village still cling to old accusations; accusations older then he is.  Actually, I’m not sure how much I believe or disbelieve.  It has all been so strange.  And so wonderful.

Please, Joseph. Tell me.  This is what I came for.

Why, thank you, friend.  I don’t often get a chance to tell this story.  So much has happened and so much is happening.  My wife, Mary, is inside now, packing.  She’s going to be with him because we’ve heard there is trouble coming.  ‘And a mother’s place is with her son when he is in trouble,’ she says.  So?  And where is a father’s place?

You know, I could forbid her to go.  It’s my right as a husband.  And she would stay for she is a good wife.  But... she is right.  she is alway right.  That is the reason I love her so.  King Solomon said,  “A man who has found a good wife has received an unwarranted honor,” and I have been blessed, just so.

But I am too old to go with her now and that is what breaks my heart.  I want to be with her ... and him, with what little time I have left. 

Are you ill?

Oh, no.  I’m just old.  Don’t be overly concerned.  I have had a long and wonderful life.  And I am just wise enough to know that my time is very short.  My sons are capable of taking over the business, and so I could leave with Mary, even knowing I may never return here.  But it’s better she goes and does what she must, without worrying about me.  She is prepared for this time.

You know, she is my second wife. 

Really?

Yes, it’s true.  My first died after the birth of our second son.  I managed for a few years, running the business while raising my two boys, but it did become tiresome.  ‘Joseph,’ my friends would say.  ‘You need a wife.’

Pah!  Who would give their daughter to a middle-aged widower with two children.  Do you know how much a carpenter makes in a small village?  Don’t ask!

Amazingly enough, Malchus, the wheelright had a young daughter, Mary, just 13...

Uh, do you think that’s appropriate?

Don’t be so shocked.  This is a hard land.  Most do not live as long as I have and everyone, especially women, must grow up quickly and take their place in the community.  Mary may have been young, but she was strong ... and the most godly woman I have ever known.  Sometimes she was too godly for her own good.

How so?

She prayed too much for a woman.  Always had this dreamy look about her.  Most men avoided her like she was a leper because she constantly talked of God and of her hope for the Messiah.  ‘She should know her place is not to talk to God,’ the men would say.  Hah! Young men are leery of any woman more submitted to God they themselves.  Find a godly woman and you may have to become a godly man.

There’s always a catch.

Older men, however, know the value of such a woman.  A woman who would raise sons to serve the Lord, to bear strong sons even the the old age of a husband.  Sons!

Such a son...

Joseph?

Oh, I’m sorry.  I drifted for a moment.  Where was I?  Oh yes.  So we were betrothed and there was no end to the gibes from my friends.  They wondered if I would even survive a year of betrothal, much less  the wedding night.

Early in that year, however, Mary came to talk to me.  We often talked in the cool of the evening, about what our lives would be like together.  But mostly we talked of Jehovah.  She saw the coming of the Messiah better than any rabbi.  We would wonder, half jokingly, if we would be his parents.  ‘Don’t laugh,’ I’d tell my friends.  ‘After all, I am of the house of David.’

But this particular day I saw something in Mary’s face that I’d not seen before.  There was fear in her eyes, but also incredible elation.  She had me sit with her under an olive tree in back of my house and asked that I not speak until she had her say.

She said, ‘Something happened last night that might cause us some difficulty as newlyweds.’  She always had a way with words.  She said that an angel of the Lord, Gabriel, no less, came to her as she slept and awakened her.  She said the angel told her not to be afraid and that she had found favor with Jehovah; that she would have a son and that he should be named Jesus.  The angel’s specific words, she said, were, ‘He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High.  The Lord God will give him the throne of his father, David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever.  His kingdom will never end.’

Very exciting news.

You would thinks so, yes.  Most women would be very excited about such a dream.  But Mary was very disturbed.  I tried to help her understand what a wonderful dream this was and that it was a great omen for our children, but she stopped me.

“No, Joseph,” she said, “You don’t understand.  Joseph, I am already pregnant.”

That must have been something of a shock.

Like a knife in my heart!  I had never felt such pain in all my life.  I was overwhelmed.  I was angry.  I felt naked.  I looked around for someone to strike.  I looked at her and for a moment, I thought... no, I could never strike her.  Even so, when Mary took me by my hands, I pushed away and cried out...

Naturally, that brought all the neighbors to see what was the matter.  I chased them away, perhaps a bit too inhospitably.  As they left they stared at Mary, wondering if she was the cause of my outburst.  When they were gone I turned on her and demanded an explanation.

She was weeping now.  She said she did not understand.  All she knew was what the angel had told her; that the power of the Lord would overshadow her and that the child would be called the Son of God.

All this must have been very difficult to believe.

Exactly!  How could a bastard be the Son of God -- the Messiah?!   How could such a man lead the nation of Israel as a king?

So, what did you do?

Well, I had every right to break the troth, then and there. 

And did you?

I considered it.  Some would say a stronger man would have walked away and let her live in shame.

But you didn’t.

God help me. I loved her as much at that moment as I do now.  I guess I’m not a strong man.  I just couldn’t toss her aside.  Besides, deep in my heart, I knew, somehow, that she loved me, too, and would never to anything to hurt me.

So, you married her right then and there.

Oh, no.  The marriage could not take place.  The law is clear about that.  I had to find a way to put her away somewhere, until she had the child.  Then, we could move away, possibly to Samaria, I could end the engagement to her, quietly and discreetly.  Maybe set her up with a shop.  It would be expensive, but it would be honorable.

So you didn’t marry her?

I thought you wanted to hear this story?

Sorry.  Go ahead.

I told her my plan, excluding the part about breaking the engagement, and she suggested she could live with her aunt, Elisabeth, who lived with her husband, a priest, near Jerusalem.  It was a good idea.  They were far enough away from Nazareth that Mary would be virtually anonymous and she could have the child in peace.  Look, here they come now.  Zechariah!  Elishaba. I have someone for you to meet.