by Brett Manero
Chapter I: 2006
“Nice catch!”
Jesus was always so full of life and energy, even at the age of five. At the age of twelve, he had even more energy, and a certain wisdom well beyond his years. He was unique, different, and yet remarkably the same as every other boy.
“Not bad, I guess,” his young companion replied. Josiah was a close friend, one since childhood. The two had grown up together in Nazareth, Colorado, a small town with a majority Jewish population. Their parents had been friends, and so their friendship had started early.
“How did you like the Temple trip?” Jesus asked his young companion.
“You mean for Passover?” Josiah replied.
“Yes, of course!” the young Jesus answered.
“It was great. I hadn’t seen the Temple before. It was huge!” Josiah did truly love the Temple. His first trip to Jerusalem had taken place during this year’s Passover. Technically, every Jew was supposed to visit the Temple each year, but only recently had his parents introduced him to this tradition. His father was growing in his faith, something that Josiah’s grandparents hadn’t done so well to pass on, and that was a mistake that Josiah’s father intended to not repeat.
“I heard a crazy story about that trip, though,” Josiah slyly mentioned. Jesus just looked at him calmly, his piercing blue eyes centered on his friend.
“What was that?” Jesus asked.
“Well, I heard that you got lost in Jerusalem. And your parents took something like three days to find you. Eventually they found you in the Temple, speaking with the elders. You were showing off all of your knowledge of the Law. Is that true?”
Jesus remained silent for a few moments, until a sweet little smile began to show itself. That smile grew larger and larger until he could no longer hide the laughter. “Yes!” Jesus said, “it is true.”
The laughter in his friend somewhat baffled young Josiah. Joseph and Mary – Jesus’ parents – were good people. Jewish, American, faithful. They had always been so kind to Josiah and his family. It seemed somewhat strange, to say the least, that Jesus would laugh at this incident.
“But why? Didn’t you feel bad about it? I can’t imagine just getting lost like that and my parents being okay with it. And were your parents angry at you?”
Jesus looked down, then up towards the sky, a slight smile on his face. “No, not at all. They were a bit scared, sure. My mother was exhausted. She asked a few questions. But my father didn’t seem too worried. He did tell me not to do it again though. And I was definitely obedient to them after that.”
“Will you do it again?” Josiah inquired. After all, how many children break their promises to their parents?
Jesus looked up at the sky again, still peering into the blueness when he answered: “No, of course not. I just had to be about my father’s house those few days.”
His father’s house? Does he mean Joseph? Joseph is his father, after all. Joseph was a carpenter, yes, and one of the best ones in Nazareth, but he had not worked on the Temple himself. The Temple had taken several years to complete, and well before Joseph had ever been born. It had also undergone a major renovation some years ago, but it seemed unlikely that the humble Joseph would have worked on it.
Oh well, Josiah thought to himself. Jesus had often said some bizarre things, and this could be included with the others.
“You know something?” Jesus asked.
“What?” replied his young companion.
“One day, I’ll be at your wedding.”
John looked at his friend with a type of confusion, surprise, joy, and perhaps – amusement? These boys were only twelve years old, and already the thought of a future wedding had crossed Jesus’ mind. Isn’t that something girls do? Girls love to think about their future weddings, with the dresses and the receptions in mind, but surely that wasn’t something that a boy thinks about.
“Well of course! You’re one of my closest friends,” was all that John could reply with. He felt just a bit awkward, just a bit uncomfortable in his reply.
“My parents are here, I have to go,” Jesus said.
John smiled as Jesus ran to the car pulling up. Joseph was a good dad, a quiet but a good one. There was certain masculine confidence about him that made him especially stand out, and he was always there for Jesus. Jesus bar Joseph, as they said at the synagogue. Jesus, son of Joseph. There had been some strange rumors about the birth of Jesus and whether Joseph was really his father or not, but that wasn’t something for the boys to worry about – Joseph was there and clearly loved Jesus, and Jesus was growing up in a good family. Joseph was even rumored to be part of a major political family from the past – maybe from the original Republicans of the Abraham Lincoln era, one of those families that really made its mark on American history – but no one knew for sure if the rumor was true. Joseph, for his part, seemed to be too humble to admit the truth of it or not.
Jesus turned back to wave one more time.
“Good to see you!” he shouted. “Bye Jesus!” John replied. “My wedding one day?” He smiled, turned back around, and enjoyed the thought. Perhaps a strange thought, for sure, but something to smile about. But for now, being twelve years old was just fine.