Hi, my name is Joseph, son of Heli, of the house of David. You probably know me as Joseph, husband of Mary.  May my life bring honor to my family and honor to God, Blessed be He!

You know my story, how I came to be the caretaker and father for one Jesus of Nazareth, whom we call Yeshua.  He was born of Miriam, my wife, through a miracle of God 12 years ago.  These past 12 years I have watched my son grow into a fine young man.  He is like the other boys in our village of Nazareth, he runs, he plays, he studies the Torah, yet he is entirely different.  Let me give you a few examples.

Most of us hate the Roman occupiers of our holy land, but not my son.  He has taken a liking to the soldiers and centurions who patrol the roads in and out of  Sepphoris, the nearby imperial city.  And the Romans like my son Yeshua as well.  While other youths are throwing stones and making pranks my son speaks with them as one man to another.  Very strange!  Beautiful, but strange.

We have many rules about what a Jewish person can eat and drink, and with whom we can associate.  My son Yeshua is an obedient and dutiful follower of the Law; at the same time I can tell he envisions something larger, something grander, something more expansive for God’s Law.  Like all 12-year-olds, he has an “attitude.”  But his attitude is different.   I have heard my son tell his friends, “love your enemies, pray for those who hurt you.”  When someone in the village is ill, he spends time with them, and, I don’t know if I should tell this, but he is able to heal them of their sickness.  I don’t want the Pharisees to hear about this, because you can get in big trouble if they suspect magic or witchcraft.

Recently there was one other example of the uniqueness of my son, Yeshua.  We had traveled to the holy city, Jerusalem, for the great feast of Passover.  We traveled with Miriam’s parents, Joachim and Anna, with Levi of the house of Judah and his family, and with Alphaeus and Naomi and their family.  Also in our company were members of our village who had no relation in Nazareth.  We were a large group, 25 or 30 in number.  We made the 5-day trip to Jerusalem, sleeping by the side of road at night and making progress during the day with frequent stops to eat and rest.

When we arrived in Jerusalem, well, what does the psalmist say? “Jerusalem is built as a city, strongly compact.”  It is like no other place on earth!  People from all over the world hawk their wares and barter and trade for items never seen in Galilee.  Every corner you turn there are the Roman soldiers, watching, watching, always watching.  At the center of Jerusalem is the temple, our beloved Temple, the dwelling place of God, Blessed be He, an edifice so grand it defies description.  When the crowd gathers for Passover, the temple, indeed the whole city is alive with music and prayer and the scent of sacrifice and offering.

Well this past year after we had finished our Passover observance at the home of Levi’s brother Benjamin, son of Jonah, we began our return journey to Nazareth.  Miriam and I agreed that Joshua had told us he would be with Levi’s family.  He spent a lot of time with them.  It was only after one half day’s journey home that we realized he was not in our company.

Only a parent can know the sinking feeling of losing a child, even for a moment.  Our hearts fell as we raced back to Jerusalem and feverishly looked in all our usual places.  Someone heard of our plight and told us, “I believe I saw your Yeshua in the temple, with the elders.”

“With the elders, I thought?  Blessed be God, was he in trouble?  Had he done something?”  We hurried to the temple only to find Yeshua sitting in the midst of the teachers, listening to them, and asking them questions.  Asking THEM questions!  In Israel, 12 year olds just don’t ask the elders questions on the law.

Yeshua was no ordinary 12-year-old, though.   “Why have you done this to us? we asked him.  And his reply is haunting me still “Why were you looking for me?  Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?”  My Father’s house…..

That was a moment in my life when I began to see that this child was not mine to keep.  He would not chip stone and cut wood in my work shop. The Father has a plan for him.  There is other wood in store for him, and greatness besides.  I have to let him go.

So it is with all our children, we have to let them become who God has called them to be.  I wanted to protect my son, keep him in Nazareth, teach him a good and sturdy trade, but I learned that day that Yeshua’s destiny lay in Jerusalem.  Miriam and I were training him for that day.

Parents, love your children while they are with you, for soon will come the day when you will see.  God has a plan for your child.  Seek out God’s plan and when you know it, encourage it, build it.  12 year olds, dream your dreams and share them with your parents.  For us, you are the future, and our present too.  Be kind to your parents, for they have given you everything you have and are.

So ends this story of Joseph, son of Heli, of the house of David.
We all returned safely from that trip to Jerusalem, but I view Yeshua differently since that day.  That day my son took His Heavenly Father’s hand.  He is no longer just for Miriam and I.  Yeshua belongs to everybody.  Welcome Him!