Joseph: The Other Father

By Katheryn Maddox Haddad

Imagine being told by God to guard His Son in a violent world until he is grown.

How does Joseph choose a city in strange Egypt to hide 2-year-old Jesus from Herod’s spies? Does he dare take 4-year-old Jesus to the temple where Herod the Great's son slaughters thousands?

How can Joseph protect Jesus with all the skirmishes

• Language: English
• Publisher: MARK WARNICK
• Release date: Aug 14, 2016
• ISBN: 9781948462662

Katheryn Maddox Haddad

Katheryn Maddox Haddad spends an average of 300 hours researching before she writes a book-ancient historians such as Josephus, archaeological digs so she can know the layout of cities, their language culture and politics. She grew up in the northern United States and now lives in Arizona where she doesn't have to shovel sunshine. She basks in 100-degree weather, palm trees, cacti, and a computer with most of the letters worn off. With a bachelor's degree in English, Bible and social science from Harding University and part of a master's degree in Bible, including Greek, from the Harding Graduate School of Theology, she also has a master's degree in management and human relations from Abilene University. She is author of forty-eight books, both non-fiction and fiction. Her newspaper column appeared for several years in newspapers in Texas and North Carolina ~ Little Known Facts About the Bible ~ and she has written for numerous Christian publications. For several years, she has been sending out every morning a daily scripture and short inspirational thought to some 30,000 people around the world. She spends half her day writing, and the other half teaching English over the internet worldwide using the Bible as textbook. She has taught over 6000 Muslims through World English Institute. Students she has converted to Christianity are in hiding in Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq, Yemen, Uzbekistan, Somalia, Jordan, Pakistan, and Palestine. "They are my heroes," she declares.

Book preview

JESUS’ TRAVELS WITH HIS PARENTS

1 ~ Hurdles

H e’s at it again.

Who? Pinchas asks, putting out another cluster of grapes for hungry customers.

Joseph. Look at him. He’s coming up the street now, Ovadi says, pulling at his ear and forming a large grin.

You would think he could afford a wagon by now, Pinchas responds, joining his partner in front of their booth.

He told me he could, but he can’t afford an ox to pull it.

Well, he’s almost big enough to pull the wagon himself.

He’s going to break his back if he doesn’t quit doing fool things like that, a woman calls out from her own booth of hot flat bread.

Here come the children behind him, someone else shouts.

Joseph, with dark bushy hair, some of which is in his eyes, marches down the middle of the Bethlehem market with a tree over his shoulder.

At least he has the sense to cut the branches off before he brings it down out of the hills, the husband of the baker howls.

Joseph’s big shoulders bulk up under the load. His breath comes hard as his big chest heaves to fill his labored lungs. His big feet lift and fall in heavy steps. His knees shake. He blinks to get the sawdust and salty sweat out of his eyes. His head juts forward as though doing so will get him to his destination sooner.

Come on, Joseph! Pinchas shouts.

You can do it! Ovadi hollers.

Just a little farther, the husband of the baker bellows.

The children laugh and squeal and clap their hands.

The adults shout and roar and whistle.

C’m on, Joseph!

C’m on, Joseph!

C’m on, Joseph!

With that, Joseph lunges one last time, bends his back low, and lets go of his tree.

It falls to one side, bounces, and rolls to a stop at the outer wall of his little carpenter shop.

He puts both big hands on his knees, sucks in his breath, gives his heart time to slow, then rises. He turns to his friends gathered in the street, holds both arms above his head, forms a broad grin, and pronounces, I did it!

The crowd smiles, shakes its collective head in amazement, and disburses back to its usual morning routine. Adults go back to stocking their booths. Children go back to playing in the street.

Joseph unlocks the gate into his shop, which is mostly a courtyard with a single room at the far end. In his one and only room is a mat on the floor, a place to store his tools so they do not get rained on, and a peg on the wall for a clean tunic.

He has two wooden benches and two tables. He sets tools on the one inside his room when they need fixed or oiled or sharpened. He sets pieces of furniture, window sashes and doors on the much larger one in his courtyard so he can sand or chisel a design into them.

He tramps over to the small well in the cobble-stone of his courtyard, pulls up a pail of cool water, chug-a-lugs half of it and pours the other half over his head.

He sits on the courtyard stool, hands on his knees, thanks God for a successful morning, then returns to the still-open gate. Out on the street, he pulls one end of his tree around, then pulls it into his courtyard, closing his gate with one hand, and setting the overage on top of his gate with the other.

The afternoon is spent sawing the tree in half, shaving off the bark with his adze, then hammering wedges in it with even spacing in order to form boards.

What did I tell you? Joseph hears out in the street.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry, comes a child’s reply. I’m sorry. Please don’t hit me again.

You are never going to learn unless I beat it into you.

No, please. I’m sorry.

Joseph throws down his mallet, leaves his wedge in the tree, and rushes to open his gate. He charges out onto the street in search of the voices.

He spots the potter, his hand over his head ready to bring down the whip onto the child’s back again. With just a few strides, Joseph arrives next to the man, reaches up, grabs hold of his hand, and squeezes until the man drops his whip.

Now Chagai, I have warned you before. You never have call to beat a child like that.

He was playing where he shouldn’t, fell back on the shelf where I have my most ornate pottery, and broke every one. Look. See for yourself.

I will build another shelf for you higher up. Also, I will chisel a sign for you that you can nail to the front of your booth saying something like The Best Potter in Judea. Will that make up for your loss?

Well...

Llan, have you been learning very much about pottery making from your master?

Yes, sir. He is a good teacher, I guess.

When you get very good, I want you to make something special for me.

What is it? Chagai asks.

I need a small jar and a large jar. The large one is to store my scroll of Isaiah in.

I could make it for you for the right price. What is the small one for?

I keep a scroll with lists on it of my customers so I can keep track of them all. If you can make the large one for me this week, I will pay you double.

Arrangements are made, and Joseph returns to his shop.

Two days later, Joseph is at the pottery shop next to his own with the shelf.

Here you are, Chagai, as promised.

Thank you. And my sign? Where’s my sign? You promised me a sign.

It will be coming soon. I had to fill an order for a door. We don’t want people in Bethlehem not feeling secure.

True, but...

Joseph looks around. Uh, Chagai, where is Llan?

Oh, him? He went on an errand for me.

Joseph hears a high-pitched noise coming from the back of the potter’s shop. He raises the counter so he can go in, and sees Llan on the floor in a corner, holding his arm close to his chest. He stoops and moves Llan’s good hand out of the way.

When did this happen? Joseph asks over the child’s crying.

What happen? Chagai responds.

Joseph stands. You didn’t even have the decency to go see someone who knows how to put broken bones back.

Oh, that. It’s not broken.

Why is his arm bowed in the middle where it shouldn’t be?

Joseph bends over again. Keep your bad arm close to your chest like you were doing, son, he whispers. With that, he picks up the boy and leaves the pottery shop, the boy still crying in pain.

Taking long and quick strides, Joseph walks to the home of his cousin on the other side of the hill that is Bethlehem.

Dalit, he calls through her gate, it’s Joseph. I have someone here who needs you. Dalit, are you here?

The gate squeaks open. His cousin is taller than most women and has the same dark hair as Joseph’s. She has flour on one cheek and on her hands.

Oh, come in, come in, she says wiping her hands on her tunic. Take him back here, she says.

Llan still crying, they enter a small room hardly large enough for the cot inside, a bench, and two people. Joseph lays the boy down and moves out of Dalit’s way.

Look in my pantry and get out a jar I have labeled turmeric. I have a pot of stew on the fire. Dip a mug in it and get only the juice. Mix some of the turmeric leaves in it and bring it here. Quickly. His pain is only going to get worse.

Joseph hurries to the kitchen area of her courtyard with a goat-hair awning over it. He looks over the shelves where she keeps her herbs and accidentally knocks some of the jars off with his big bulk. He puts them back.

Finding what he needs, he returns to the small room where Llan is lying on the cot, blowing on the broth in the mug as he goes.

Here, he says. I hope I cooled it off enough you can drink it.

Llan sips a little, then drifts off. Joseph takes the boy’s good hand and holds it while Dalit works to reset the child’s bone, all the while praying Llan is unconscious.

That accomplished, Dalit joins Joseph on the bench next to the cot.

How did it happen? she asks.

His master he is apprenticing to. I think Chagai bought him because he is an orphan and he would not have parents to contend with.

So, he’s done this sort of thing before?

I think so. I’m not sure. He moved here from down in Beersheba several months ago. He said he heard business would be better for him here.

Now what?

Of course, it is against our law to mistreat slaves. I will approach the city elders and request that I be allowed to take him.

Joseph, since my husband died, I have been needing help here. This boy would be perfect. Why don’t you let me take him in?

Joseph smiles. Good idea. As spindly as he is, he could probably help you more than he could me.

He stands. Well, I need to go over to the east gate and see the elders there about this matter. I can come back tomorrow on my way to sign papers the elders may have for me.

Joseph takes care of the boy’s ownership with the elders, then works his way back to the market. He does not stop at his shop but goes directly to the potter’s. Joseph does not have a chance to say anything.

Where is he? What have you done with my slave?

He is no longer your slave, sir, Joseph replies, standing tall, eyes glaring down at his neighbor.

What do you mean? I bought him with perfectly good money.

You also bought his freedom with your cruelty. The city elders have been notified and the final papers will be signed by this time tomorrow.

How dare you? This was none of your business. Chagai points his crooked finger at Joseph’s nose.

You made it my business when you mistreated that boy. You are a grown man. You should be ashamed of yourself.

Get out! Get out of my shop. You will pay for this, Joseph. You will be sorry you ever crossed me.

The next day before starting to work and becoming full of sawdust, Joseph goes to the east gate of Bethlehem to confer with the city elders. He signs a witness statement, and the elders agree for Dalit to take Llan in.

How would you like to stay here from now on? Joseph asks the boy upon arrival at his cousin’s house.

Llan does not answer.

Oh, I know the pain must be terrible. Broken bones hurt. You just keep drinking the tea Dalit gives you for pain. Now, did you hear what I just asked you?

Yes, sir, the boy responds, sitting up on his cot and holding on to his broken arm as though his healthy hand will heal it.

Well? What do you think? Would you like to stay here and help Dalit from now on?

Llan’s eyes mist. He stares at his protector a moment. Chagai says I am no good.

What does he know? My cousin here is a lot smarter than him, and she says you are a very good boy.

I wouldn’t have to go back there? I could stay here from now on?

Yes. Now, I will come see you every day and...

Joseph, I smell smoke, Dalit says, interrupting. Look up at the sky. There is a lot of it.

It may be coming from the market, Joseph replies. I’d better get over there and see what I can do to help.

Joseph gently embraces the boy and his cousin and rushes out the gate. As he nears the market, the smoke grows thicker. People now scramble, choking and stumbling to escape the thick, dark billows.

Joseph tries to draw closer, but cannot.

Don’t try it, Joseph, Pinchas says.

There’s nothing you can do, Ovadi says.

But someone needs my help.

It’s not someone, Joseph. It’s you. It’s your shop.

Joseph looks at his friends and at the smoke. He stares at the sky and back at his friends. He turns in place, his brows furrowed and squinting.

C’m on, Joseph. There is nothing you can do. Just sit here while it burns itself out. There is nothing you can do.

Joseph stumbles over to the bench provided by the baker’s husband. He sits on it, shakes his head back and forth, runs his fingers through his black hair, stands, walks in circles, and sits again. He looks in the direction of the flames and smoke, leans his elbows on his knees, and covers his head with his hands.

When he looks up, he sees the baker.

What am I going to do? he asks the woman with flour in her hair.

She says nothing, but sits next to the young man and takes his big hand into her own.

It is two hours before the smoke dies down enough Joseph can get to what is left of his shop, his business, his home.

He shuffles his big feet between the few remaining live embers. Most of what he owns is now turned to black worthlessness. He walks toward the back, picks up a stick that has cooled, and pokes among the ashes.

Well, I think the metal parts of my tools have survived, he says, though he does not know whether anyone is close enough to hear.

After a while—though he does not know how long that is—he hears the familiar voice of his cousin.

Come home with me, she whispers. We can come back tomorrow when things have cooled off enough you can dig out what is still good.

No, I’m going to do it now.

He shuffles over to his little well and pulls up the bucket, thankful he had attached it to a chain instead of rope. He takes it to where his tools are and pours the water over them. One by one he rescues his tools and sets them out in the street in front of what once was his gate.

Well, at least put them in this basket the baker loaned me, Dalit says.

By noon it is all over. Joseph picks up his basket and walks with his cousin to her home on the other side of Bethlehem.

When he walks in, Dalit puts a finger over her lips and shakes her head at Llan. His smile disappears and he waits, squatting on the floor, for the grownups to tell him what terrible thing has happened.

Dalit returns to her baking she had interrupted earlier.

Do you have any idea how the fire got started? she asks from under the canopy that is her kitchen.

Yes, I know exactly how. And who.

So?

It was... he looks over at the boy watching him, well, it does not matter. I am sure he has long left the city and is on his way to set up his business elsewhere.

You need to report him so he can be punished for what he did.

You mean, for restitution? The lumber I can replace. The tools I can fix. That little bit of land I own never was worth much anyway—just a room, a courtyard, and a gate. The wall around the room and courtyard are still there. The roof and gate I will replace some day.

It is quiet for a while. Llan walks over to Joseph, sits next to him on his bench, reaches up his thin arm, and puts it as far as he can reach across Joseph’s bulky shoulders.

Joseph looks down at the boy and smiles. We will forgive him. Won’t we, Llan?

Llan does not respond. He wrinkles his brow and squints, staring up at his benefactor.

Have we not ever sinned? Joseph asks the boy. We must treat others the way we want to be treated. We will not only forgive him, but we will wish him well and pray for him. Isn’t that right, Llan?

Llan takes his arm down and lays his head on Joseph’s shoulder.

At noon, Dalit serves some cheese and figs along with a slab of flat bread. Llan takes what is given to him and sits back on the cobble stone to eat it.

Despite the trauma going on in his life, Joseph eats everything she has given him. Then he slaps his hands on his knees, stands, and takes a deep breath.

I’m going for a walk. I’ve got to notify my customers and promise refunds to those who have already paid me.

Wait, Dalit says. Here are some clean clothes my husband used to wear. Clean up first. Then go.

An hour later, Joseph leaves out the gate. He stays gone the rest of the afternoon.

Just before sundown, Joseph returns.

Well, it is settled, he announces.

What’s settled? Dalit asks.

I’m moving to Jerusalem.

But your home is here, Joseph. You have lived here all your life. You are not going to just desert the city of our ancestor, David.

I am needed elsewhere for now. King Herod has completed rebuilding the temple. Now he wants rooms built around the expanded courtyard walls for the out-of-town priests and other temple helpers to stay in, as well as for storage. They need door frames and doors made. I am going to Jerusalem and ask for a job at the temple.

Can I go with you? Llan asks.

You are needed here. We must always go where we are most needed, Joseph replies, ruffling the boy’s hair.

You shouldn’t be doing this, Dalit warns. They don’t need you that bad. King Herod is evil and dangerous. He thinks nothing of killing his own family members if he thinks they are threatening his throne. You are a descendant of King David. You are a threat to him. You could be next.

There is no reason for him to know.

2 ~ The Temple & the King

T he wall has collapsed !

Joseph nears Jerusalem the next day at noon. He sees people rush up the side of Mount Moriah where the king has expanded the temple complex to nearly the same size as the City of David, the original Jerusalem.

The outer courtyard wall has collapsed, a man calls over to Joseph. The retaining foundation under it is gone.

Hurry. We need all the help we can get before the whole thing collapses.

Despite the basket on Joseph’s back full of tools, he runs up the side of the mount, dodging large falling rocks.

Look out! he hears just in time to dive out of the way of a square cut stone the size of an average house.

Rumbling. Cracking. Roaring. Crashing. The mountain quakes.

Men scrambling. Gravel and dust and giant rocks following them down the side of the mountain.

Joseph becomes a part of it. The running and climbing against the earth falling around them.

Running. Dodging. Running again.

It stops. Except for a few strays, it stops. When the dust settles, Joseph can see above him men standing in the breach of the great wall. Standing and wailing.

He looks around for anyone trapped under a rock. He listens for cries for help. He sees an arm sticking out from under one of the square cut rocks, and knows there is no hope.

He scrambles around the mountain looking around cut stones and uncut boulders. Over here. Help me.

Rushing toward the call for help, he sees a man with one leg caught under a boulder from the retaining wall.

Hold on, sir. I think I can help you.

Joseph takes the basket off his back and stirs through its contents until he comes to a long pry bar.

Thank God for you, the man replies, leaning back on his elbows. What can I do to help?

Take hold of the trapped leg, and be ready to twist out of the way with the force of your good leg, Joseph says as he wedges his crow bar as far under the boulder as he can. Ready?

He presses the weight of his entire bulky body on the upper end of the crow bar. The boulder lifts a hand span and the man twists around far enough his leg is free.

I’m out, he cries.

And with that, Joseph lets the boulder drop back in place. He kneels next to the man to examine his injured leg.

Go. Get out of here. There are too many other trapped men to be bothering with me. Go.

Joseph stands. What is your name?

Simeon. Now go.

Joseph looks around and scrambles toward another large boulder to look on the other side of it for someone else possibly trapped under it.

The rest of the afternoon Joseph clambers around the wounded side of Mount Moriah. When the sun is nearly down, he walks into Jerusalem through the south gate and up to the west temple entrance where he requests to enter.

We’re sorry. Too many things going on in here. You cannot come in, the temple guard says. Maybe in the morning, but not now.

Joseph leaves and walks around to the bottom of the old City of David where the Pool of Siloam is. He finds a spot, seats himself, and takes off his back pack. He looks inside and finds a small towel with a wedge of cheese and large round flat bread which he consumes, and washes down with water from the pool.

The sun down now, he wraps his clean robe over his dirty tunic, sits, turns over onto his side, lays his head on his back pack, and falls asleep. God bless the injured and dead, he prays. And Dalit and Llan back in Bethlehem. And Chagai—mean Chagai—wherever he is.

Morning comes and Joseph works his way back up to the west entrance to the temple. The gates are already open and the general public is being admitted. A Levite stands near the entrance.

Worshippers, please stay to the left. If you are a workman, go to the right.

Joseph veers right and walks at a slow pace, searching for someone who looks to be in charge. He sees an older man with crutches sitting on a bench near the breach in the wall. An old woman is talking to him. As he draws closer, he thinks he recognizes the man but is not sure.

There is my rescuer right now, the man says as soon as he notices Joseph. Come, my friend. Come.

Joseph smiles at seeing a familiar face and approaches. He tips his head to Simeon and his friend.

I did not get your name yesterday.

It is Joseph of Bethlehem. Joseph like Israel’s son, Joseph.

Well, Joseph, I would like you to meet my old friend, Anna. We meet quite often and talk about the prophesied Messiah coming in our lifetime.

Who knows? Joseph replies. He has been prophesied for so many thousand years, it could be another thousand.

He briefly acknowledges Anna, then turns back to Simeon. How’s your leg?

Luckily, it was in a low spot under the boulder, so did not get crushed. All I need are these crutches. So what brings you here, Joseph?

I am looking for work.

If you are a stone mason, then this is the place to be.

Well, I’m not. I’m a carpenter.

Hmmm. No need for carpenters until we get that wall back up. It is a priority.

You will need scaffolding.

Huh? We will need what? Of course. Of course, young man. You are right. We will need scaffolding. Uh, do you know how to put sturdy scaffolding together?

Yes, I am sure I can.

Then you’re hired.

You will be my boss?

No, no. I just come over to the temple every day and boss the bosses around. See that Levite over there with the red beard? That’s ole Avner. He’s in charge of the outside walls and is he ever mad. You’d better duck when you approach him.

Joseph smiles, tips his head to Simeon and Anna, and walks in the direction of his future boss.

Kind sir, Joseph begins as he approaches the Levite.

Avner turns in his direction. What? What do you want? Go away. I don’t have time for you. He turns back to the man he had formerly been talking to.

Sir, if you have need of scaffolding, I know where a supply of fine trees is and can provide you with the lumber for it by tomorrow.

Avner swivels and turns back to Joseph. Guaranteed?

If I can have a wagon and ox, I can guarantee that you will have them some time tomorrow.

Not some time tomorrow. Tomorrow morning.

Does that mean I’m hired? Joseph says, double checking.

Yes, you are hired. See that man over there? Tell him I said to get your wagon and ox to you within the hour.

Yes, sir. Joseph says, backing away with a large grin. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.

Don’t thank me yet. If you don’t deliver them on time, you don’t get paid.

Yes, sir, Joseph repeats walking backward. He passes Simeon who grins and salutes him.

Within the hour, Joseph is guiding his ox back down Mount Moriah and in the direction of the hill between Jerusalem and Bethlehem which keeps people in the two cities from seeing each other.

Hut hut! he calls out to the ox, popping a whip above its head. Can’t you go any faster than this? By the time we get there, it will be dark and I’ll have to work all night to chop down the three trees I’ll need.

As predicted, Joseph, his wagon and his ox arrive on the high hill between the two cities at dark. He is favored with a full moon and has his three trees loaded onto the wagon by morning.

He makes his way back to Jerusalem and leaves his wagon of logs at the bottom of the hill below the collapsed wall.

Are you out of your mind? Avner bellows when Joseph arrives at the temple complex and shows him his wagon. We can’t use them. They’re just logs.

The other workers over near Simeon look up to see what all the yelling is about.

It is still morning, and all I have left to do is split them into boards, Joseph explains.

You can’t do it that fast.

If I don’t scrape the bark off, I can.

Out of the corner of his eye, Joseph notices Simeon watching him.

Do you really think he can have them split before noon? one of the workers asks Simeon with a broad grin.

I don’t think. I know, Simeon responds. That’s some boy there.

After another hour with one and one half trees split into boards, more workers from the temple complex gather to watch Joseph and his help at the bottom of the hill that is Mount Moriah.

Do you think he can do it?

Nope.

Yes, he can.

What are you men doing here? Avner interrupts. Get back to work.

But we need the scaffolding so we can get to work, one of them says, not taking his eyes off Joseph.

Avner looks down the hill at Joseph and stares a moment. He hides a smile and walks away.

Just before high noon, a shout rises above the courtyard.

He did it! He did it!

Would you believe that boy?

He did it!

The assembled men walk down the hill, grin at Joseph, grab boards, and deliver them up to the breach in the wall. When completed, Joseph climbs over the debris and re-enters the temple complex.

Simeon approaches him.

See Anna in the doorway over there? That’s her apartment along the wall. Go see what she wants. I’ll cover for you.

Full of grime and sawdust, Joseph goes to see Anna, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, and stomping his feet to get the dust off his tunic.

Yes, ma’am? he says.

Come in here. You’ve been up all night. You’re going to fall over if you don’t at least get a nap. Lie down on my bed. It’s a little small for you, but I don’t think you’ll mind your feet dangling off the end. Now, go on. Lie down. I’ll let you know if Avner starts looking for you.

Anna closes the door and Joseph flops down onto her welcomed bed.

Moments later—or was it just moments?—there is a knock on the door. Anna peeks her head in.

It’s safe to come out now. We’re about to start our evening meal. When we’re done eating, you will have to give my room back to me. Can you sleep tonight where you did your first night? Then you can come back to work tomorrow. How long do you think you will be working here?

Joseph sits up in bed, then stands. I believe I will be kept busy putting up scaffolding, taking down where they no longer need it, then putting it back up farther down until the breach is filled. It could take nearly a year. The breach is large.

That’s fine, young man. That’s fine.

It has now been a year since Joseph’s carpenter shop in Bethlehem burned down. It has been a year away from home for the first time. It has been a year of living in the big city of priests and generals and kings. And a year of growing suspicions as rumors of Herod’s spies abound. In his old age, Herod suspects everyone of taking his crown. He can never allow it to happen.

The wall around the outside perimeter of the great temple complex is now solidly in place. Everything had gone smoothly except for one suspicious fire in the scaffolding which was noticed in time to put it out before any real damage could be done.

Joseph now makes doors and door sashes for all the rooms that have been built into the walls as well as the offices and assembly room for the Sanhedrin. He is allowed to stay in one of the rooms. Joseph is now twenty-one years old.

There you are.

Joseph turns at the sound of a familiar voice he has not heard in over a year. Well, if it isn’t Gidon. What brings you to Jerusalem?

The old friends pat each other on the back.

Hasn’t Herod made our city magnificent, especially the temple? Joseph says. A person has to go up nearly two man lengths from the court of the Gentiles to the court of the treasury and the women. Then another two man lengths from there to the court of the men. Then another half a man length to the court of the priests. And finally another nearly two man lengths to the court where the actual temple itself stands. Look at it up there. Isn’t it magnificent?

Gidon smiles. Indeed, it is impressive, friend.

Gidon is of average height, has a bulbuous nose, red cheeks, and a short black beard.

Come over to this bench so we can talk. Unless, of course, it was a tour you came for.

I came to show you something.

They walk over to the bench and Gidon sets a bundle wrapped in wool cloth on his lap. He takes the cloth away.

Is that a crown? Joseph asks. I am impressed, Gidon. Did you make this? I suppose you did, being Bethlehem’s only copper worker. I thought you only made copper bowls.

My brother is getting married, and instead of a crown of garlands, I thought I’d give him this groom’s crown to wear.

Well, I like it. If I ever find a good woman to marry, would you make me one? I’ll pay you.

Gidon laughs. Your money is going to be so tied up in making a home for her, you won’t have any left for something like this. Someone has turned your property into a night pen for their sheep.

At least someone is getting some good from it. So, can I at least try it on?

Sure, go ahead. But your head is so big, it won’t fit.

Joseph tries on the crown, then catches it as it slides off his head.

So, why are you showing it to me if I can’t have one?

I want you to make a special box to put it in. That way he can save it for future generations.

Of course, I will, Joseph responds. Anything for an old friend from back home. Any special wood you want for the box? Cedar would be good.

If you recommend cedar, then cedar it shall be.

How are things over in Bethlehem, by the way?

About the same, Gidon says, rewrapping the crown in the wool cloth

Do you think you’ll ever come back?

I don’t know. I have a good job here. But I guess I should visit sometimes anyway. How is my cousin, Dalit?

Didn’t you know? We buried her three months ago. She just got a real high fever and died. No one knows what caused it.

Joseph stands and turns around to look at his friend. What happened to Llan?

He disappeared. No one knows where he went.

Many people come through here, especially at the three main annual feasts. I shall keep an eye open for him.

Joseph notices a beggar watching him. Too big to be Llan, he thinks to himself. Well, I need to get back to work. When is your brother’s wedding?

One month from now.

I shall have it ready by then.

Gidon stands and leaves. Joseph takes the crown to his room, then returns to work. He notices the stranger who had been watching him. Gidon is gone.

He returns to the work table he has set up across from one of the room additions, and sets a board of olive wood up. He measures it, saws it, and re-measures it to make sure it is the same size as the one he will join it to.

That done, he props up the board so he can work on the edge. He carefully measures, then chisels a narrow strip that will be a mortise. He works his way down the edge of the board carefully measuring and chiseling.

Joseph, have you thought of what you will do when they’re finished with the temple?

Joseph looks up and sees Simeon. They have many more projects from what I understand, he says, returning to his measuring and cutting. Once the rooms are done, they want to start some decorative wood-carving projects. I’m pretty good at wood carving.

There is talk, Joseph. I just came to warn you.

Joseph looks up. Talk of what?

Herod is on a rampage again. He’s doubled his spies and even puts on disguises and goes out to find out for himself what people are saying about him.

Well, if we’re not saying or doing anything wrong, we do not have anything to worry about, do we? Joseph says, returning to his work.

One of the priests told me he thought he saw Herod himself in the temple a little while ago. He was dressed like a beggar. Had a cloth over his mouth and was coughing a lot.

Joseph looks up again.

They don’t like to let beggars in the temple complex, Simeon continues, but sometimes one gets through.

I suppose so.

Well, I am going to be meeting with my old friend, Anna, in a little while. We think the time is drawing close.

Close for what?

For the Messiah to be born. The one who will free us from our oppressors. The one sent by God to rule us.

You are quite the scholar, Joseph says. You’ll get it figured out.

I’ll stop by and say hello to you tomorrow.

Simeon leaves and Joseph resumes his measuring and cutting.

Are you Joseph, descendant of David?

Joseph looks up and sees six uniformed temple guards. He drops his chisel and stands straight.

Yes, sir. I am. One of many.

You are under arrest.

What for?

Treason.

3 ~ The Arrest

Joseph’s head juts forward, his eyes squint, his hands form fists, sweat breaks out on his face.

What? What did you say? No. You’re wrong.

One of the guards grabs his arm and pulls him away from his work table. Another guard pulls Joseph’s hands behind his back and chains them. They move into formation with the spokesman in front, two guards on each side, and another one behind. They march north through the court of the Gentiles that circumvents the entire temple complex. At the other end they arrive at Fort Antonia.

Joseph looks around and cries out, Help! Help me someone. I didn’t do anything.

Then he is inside.

They shove him to the parade ground, walk through it, and enter a room with a variety of wood and iron instruments in it. Joseph knows it is the torture chamber.

To his relief, they cross the room and enter a smaller room on the other side. It is no better. Chains are pulled out from the slimy floor and placed around his ankles.

The guards leave. There are no windows. No lamp or torch has been left behind. The room is black and cold and damp.

Joseph looks up at the ceiling he cannot see. Jehovah God, help me. Have mercy on me. Let me live. Help me.

His mind swirls as he searches his memory for anything that might have made them think he was not loyal to King Herod.

The wall. Did they think I caused it to fall? I’m not a stone mason. I wouldn’t know how.

Did I leave someone behind after the collapse that I should have found and saved?

Did I save the culprit who caused the collapse?

Did my scaffolding fall on any of the king’s officers during inspection while I was not there?

Did Chagai report me as a spy after he left my shop smoldering in Bethlehem?

Was Llan a runaway slave from Herod’s household?

Joseph slumps to the floor, his hands still chained behind him.

"Oh, Jehovah