Second Born: Second Born Series, #1

By Patrick W. Andersen

Joseph has a vision for his family and nation. And as a successful trader and merchant, he might just have amassed a large enough fortune to bring it to reality.  

 

Though he has built his home and business in Sepphoris, the most beautiful city in Galilee, all his hopes rest on his firstborn son, James, who is studying for the priesthood far south in Roman-occupied Jerusalem. Important people say James may grow up to be the Righteous One, who would restore Israel to God's favor.

Joseph has charged his other children to support James in the family's quest. Second-born Jesus, however, is a troublemaker. Third son Judas, who looks so much like Jesus that he is nicknamed  Thomas (the Twin), stutters terribly and follows meekly in Jesus's shadow. Fourth son Simon has difficulty learning and suffers bullying at the hands of rough boys who work in the fields.  Their sisters Joanna and Susanna seem built in the mold of their mother, Miriam, who is the dominant force that maintains discipline in the family.

 

Second Born finds a plausible middle ground between the Gospel stories of the New Testament and scholars' search for the "historic Jesus." It follows him and his brothers from preteens to adulthood as they each grow into and come to accept their separate roles in the family's quest to restore dignity to Roman-occupied Israel. History tells us that Jesus's brother came to be known as James the Just, and scholars have tried to track the travels and travails of Jude and Simon

in the decades following the Crucifixion and the later destruction of Jerusalem.

 

Why do the Gospels tell us that Jesus shunned his family? Second Born's answers to that question may change a reader's perception of Christianity and make it easier to maintain the faith.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patrick W. Andersen
• Release date: Nov 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223085447

Book preview

3789

29 CE (Common Era)

THOMAS

Judas is dead. Never call me that again, because the Romans will be looking for me under that name, I said bitterly.

Andrew, still breathless from running through the narrow streets and up the stairs, merely nodded. He had burst in moments earlier to tell us that my brother Jesus was dead, that Pilate crucified him.

To all of us gathered in the dimly lit upper room, the news knocked the air out of our lungs like a fist hitting our gut. Though we half expected it, we had all prayed for his escape after the riot at the Temple. When Jesus failed to join us at the Mount of Olives yesterday, many figured the Romans had probably arrested him. We had held out hope he might have gotten away, but I guess we knew in our hearts that the soldiers would hunt him down and kill him.

From now on you should refer to me only as Thomas. Make sure to inform the rest of the men and their wives, I added.

The others barely looked up, immersed as they were in their own regrets. The hopes and wild dreams we had harbored—both openly and in secret—were now crushed.

This isn’t fair, my youngest brother Simon said. They killed him because of my failure, not because of anything he did wrong. He died for my mistakes. I could hear anguish in his voice as if he were about to burst into tears.

Only about a dozen of the men had gathered here at Gamaliel’s house. The rest were either hiding among the groves of ancient olive trees on the hill across the Kidron Valley, or were fleeing the city on the various roads to their homes.

He did it to protect me, my oldest brother James muttered, angry with himself. I should have insisted that he let them take me instead. He died for me.

For me too, I said, hanging my head. I let the young hotheads get out of hand, and they proclaimed to everyone with ears that they’d stop paying taxes. I should have spanked them and tied gags in their mouths.

The other men in the room looked lost. Jesus embodied all their hopes. He had proven to be more than just a leader. More, even, than just a prophet. More, even, than just the King. All of the men in this room had become convinced that Jesus had provided them a direct link to the Lord our God.

Now he was gone.

I sat up and cleared my throat. We would have plenty of time later to grieve.

"We can’t change what has happened but we have to move on, and do so quickly. Pilate believes he killed the King of the Judeans. If he thinks there are any family members who might be royal claimants to the throne, he’ll kill us too. Here’s how it’s going to be. James, stay here in your quarters and go into seclusion. Say you’re fasting and must be left alone. Ask your master and all the leaders at the Temple to keep secret from the Romans that you’re his brother, or else you’ll be seized.

"Simon, any of your men who are still in the city should get out immediately, and tell them not to regroup until they get far away on the road back to Galilee. They should keep their swords hidden until they’ve traveled many miles from this place, and don’t respond to any provocation by the Romans.

Mary is about to give birth, so I’ll smuggle her away from Bethany. We shouldn’t go in the same direction as Simon, so I’ll take her south to Bethlehem. Maybe we can find an inn there. Later, after the baby is strong enough for travel, we’ll get out of the country, maybe to Egypt, to Alexandria. At some point we’ll return and meet up with Simon in Galilee.

James nodded silently as he absorbed the information. He was clearly overwhelmed by how quickly events were moving. Finally, he raised his eyes. Both of you and all of the others can always get messages to me here at the Temple, and I can relay news and plans to all of you wherever you may be. We will keep together as one body no matter how widely all the members are spread. We did not expect his execution, but we will not let it stop the movement. He shall live on.

I nodded. Yes, Pilate thinks he killed the King of the Judeans. But he unleashed Bar-Abba, the Son of the Father.

Andrew had been sitting by the window. He waved his arms to signal us to silence. He pointed through the opening in the wall down toward the street.

Roman soldiers, he hissed. I count five of them.

Holding my finger to my lips for silence, I stood up and pointed toward the stairway to the back exit.

(To be continued.)

3768

8 CE

JUDAS

Jesus! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!

Dad’s voice roared but had a tremble to it. Anyone listening might have assumed it came from relief that Jesus was safe. But I suspected he was trying to suppress rage that his son had stayed comfortably here in the Temple while the whole household was out searching the city, fearing the worst. And I could tell that he was rattled because he called him Jesus. Ordinarily, when here in Jerusalem, he would only call him Joshua. When we were here in the city, he called me Judah.

Jesus, for his part, merely arched a single eyebrow and adopted a look of mild interest. Like myself, he had dark, curly hair and deep olive skin, almost brown. Dad had a light complexion and straight, brown hair that fell to his shoulders. Mom and our sisters and other brothers all had light skin too, though Mom and the girls had black hair. Jesus and I had slightly wider noses and chins.

Where would I be but my father’s house? he asked in mock innocence. With a sudden laugh he ducked under the arm of the Temple official who had been holding him by his shoulder and bolted from the outer courtyard howling in triumph.

Dad turned and glowered at Mom. Your son, he said in a deep, accusing voice.

Mom arched an eyebrow the same way Jesus had a moment earlier. Your son too, my husband.

I could almost hear Dad’s mind deciding what to do behind those eyes of his. He considered Mom a point of pride — plump in her face and body to clearly illustrate his success and prosperity. But it would never do to cross words with her in public. Rather than respond to her and risk an embarrassing argument that he would never win anyway, he turned to the Temple official.

Rabbi, please accept my gratitude for keeping our son safe when we feared him lost, he said with a nod of recognition to the man. I recognized him too — Annas, one of the priests. He came from a rich family, and our clans sometimes attended festivals or wedding feasts together.

The priest was about to reply but Dad held up one hand to delay him. Miriam, please take the children to find out where our son has run off to. Judah, you stay here with me. Mom bowed her head in respect to the rabbi, and then left with Simon, Susanna and Joanna. I stayed put.

After they had gone about thirty paces through the Court of the Gentiles, Annas reached his arms out to his sides with the palms of his hands raised upward as if in supplication. The billowing folds of cloth on his robe made a dramatic visual impact, almost like an eagle spreading its wings.

Joseph of Sepphoris, were he not your son, the Romans would have had him beaten and left lying in an alley. They only turned him over to us for safekeeping because of your stature as a merchant and builder.

He was seized by the Romans this time? Dad asked.

Annas inhaled deeply and wore a stern look of reproof on his brow. He insulted no less than the captain of the guards. Several of the troops had knocked over some old women as they marched past, and your son ran to the front of the column and demanded an apology from the leader. Really, Joseph, what chance do we have of maintaining peace if your son insists on provoking the Romans every chance he gets?

Dad interrupted. You said he insulted them. Demanding an apology doesn’t sound like an insult.

No. When the captain ignored him, your son called the captain a coward. He called the entire troop a pack of cowards fit only to bully old women and children. I’m told he would have thrown rocks at them if any were available.

I watched Dad’s face. A seasoned trader, he allowed no emotion to show in his expression or the tone of his voice. He did all that, eh? And the captain turned the boy over to you for your keeping?

Annas sounded exasperated. Only through my pleading. But the captain demanded to see you when you returned. His name is Pancratius, and he is at the Antonia now.

Dad nodded to him and then turned away. He draped his arm over my shoulder as we rounded the corner of the Temple and walked north across the wide expanse toward the Roman garrison quarters beyond the Temple porticoes.

Judas Thomas, you must not say anything or raise any objections when we go to see the Roman. Just listen to me and learn.

Oops. He added Thomas to my name. The Twin. Even though Jesus is a year older than me, people often mistake me for him. This did not sound good for me. O-ka-ka-kay, D-dad. I’ll k-keep qu-qu-quiet.

We had gone about halfway across the courtyard when a voice called out. I had only previously accompanied Dad on a few of his trips here, but even I recognized Isaac, who often bought merchandise from us. Though smiling broadly, the man was wagging his head from side to side and holding up his hands as if to say, Why me?

Several Roman soldiers stood nearby, so Isaac spoke in Aramaic. The soldiers spoke only Greek.

Joseph, I am so glad to see you. But if you are entering the Antonia, I can only hope you have brought much money with you.

Isaac, peace be with you, Dad said, giving the traditional greeting. Why are you here?

The man continued smiling for the benefit of the soldiers, and kept his tone of voice cheerful. The Romans said my shop was not built legally. Can you imagine? My shop was built by my father’s father, and it has stood in the same spot since long before the Romans ever set foot in this city.

Dad also smiled and did not allow his voice to betray any emotion. How could they declare that it isn’t legal?

The soldiers pretended not to pay attention, but I could sense alertness in their posture. Isaac wagged a finger in the air and continued grinning as if he were telling a joke. It has nothing to do with my shop. The captain of the guard hopes to take enough riches with him back to Rome so that he can build his own palace. He extracted several silver coins from me just now for the promise not to tear down my shop and confiscate my merchandise. I’m sure he’ll bring me back in a few months for the same promise.

Dad stroked his beard as he absorbed the information. You say he will accept silver? Thank you — then I will keep my gold hidden.

Isaac smiled in agreement. Yes, don’t give him gold or else it will spoil him for the rest of us. So what brings you here?

My son got in trouble. I’m told he called the captain and his soldiers cowards fit only to bully children and old women, so of course they threatened to beat him in retaliation.

Hah, Isaac laughed. Good for him! But I thought your boy Jacob was a student here at the Temple. It sounds unlike him to challenge the foreigners so aggressively.

Not Jacob. It was my second-born son, Jesus, or I should say Joshua. The troublemaker.

Joshua. I’ll remember you in my prayers tonight, young man, he said, smiling to me. Well, good day, Joseph, and I hope to speak to you soon about your next shipment of spices.

The Antonia was a colossal structure with guard towers at each corner so the soldiers could look down on whatever might be happening in the courtyard on the Temple Mount, and in the city below. I had never been inside before. Dad reached into a small pouch under the left side of his tunic, and gave a copper coin to each of the two guards at the gate telling them he had business with their captain. After biting the coins to test the metal, they directed us inside.

Pancratius, the Roman officer, spoke and carried himself as one exceedingly proud of his rank, and the bronze plate over his chest shone brightly as if it had been vigorously polished. Several documents lay spread out on the table, and he looked up with irritation at the interruption when we were ushered in. He remained seated with uniformed guards standing to either side of the table. I stood behind Dad, almost out of sight.

Captain, Dad called out in Greek as he bowed almost to the floor, I bring you greetings from your comrades in the remote north in Galilee and Syria. The name Pancratius is revered among the soldiers there, who boast of the excellent discipline of the elite guards at the Temple in Jerusalem. They say this is the most difficult area to be stationed and that it demands the greatest leadership.

The captain grinned at the flattery but put steel in his voice as he growled, What is your business here?

Dad bowed again and spread his arms, palms upward. Sir, I have been informed that my son caused a misunderstanding with ill-chosen words.

Now the officer noticed me standing behind Dad, and his eyes narrowed menacingly. Ill-chosen words? A fatal error in judgment, if you ask me. Why shouldn’t I order that boy beaten right this minute?

I felt the backs of my legs start to quiver. It would be useless to resist if these soldiers grabbed me. I wanted to scream that it wasn’t me — no, not me! But I remembered that Dad told me not to say a thing, so I kept quiet as a lamb being led to slaughter.

Your Excellency, Dad said, his face still averted downward in submission, I believe you misunderstood my son’s concern for the elderly women. He has heard me worry many times about the widows and orphans of Roman soldiers who fall in battle protecting our land from invaders, and he knows that I have long intended to create a fund to support the families of your fallen comrades. In fact, I have brought silver with me to provide the humble beginnings for this fund, which I hope will grow even greater. Dad reached under the right side of his tunic and pulled out a small pouch, which he held out toward the officer.

Pancratius snatched the pouch and looked inside to quickly gauge the number of coins. A fund for our widows would not be necessary if this province were more orderly, he grumbled, but the venom was gone from his voice.

But we are grateful, your Excellency, for helping to bring order to our unruly brethren. I must travel from the city and will not be here to administer the fund, so could you please see to it that this money goes to the proper use?

The Roman dismissed us with an impatient wave of his hand. Of course. Now off with you! Pointing at me, he added, And tell that son of yours to watch his mouth.

Mom had reined in Jesus and rounded up the other kids. We all went to visit the marketplace below the Temple to pick up some foodstuffs, where we had arranged to meet the servants and guards who accompanied us on this trip. Mom and the kids were about twenty steps ahead of us. Jesus and I were walking with Dad, who was lecturing about the need to behave more civilly around the soldiers. Look, you could have been hurt or even killed. You have to be more careful.

Aw, Dad, Jesus said, they were such pompous asses with their armor and swords, picking on old women. And if my twelfth birthday means I’m becoming a man, then I should be able to speak out for our people. I bet James won’t be afraid when he becomes a priest. And besides, I knew they wouldn’t hurt me because you’re so rich.

Dad stopped and swirled suddenly, grabbing Jesus by the shoulder and shaking him. You must not assume that I will always be there with money to save you. You have to be more careful.

"But you were there. And besides, Jesus said slyly, now we’ll get a chance to see if any widows or orphans ever see a single grain of that silver."

Dad gasped in surprise, then turned on me. Did you tell him?

I di-, I di-, I — no! I said, but Jesus was already howling with laughter before I could get the denial out of my mouth.

All right, Dad said, I’ll ignore your treatment of the Roman soldiers. But I warn you to never act like that with our neighbors or especially our own family. If I ever hear that you’re giving your mother a hard time—

Jesus cut him off mid-sentence, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. My own family? Dad, Judas is my soul mate, and Simon, Susanna and Joanna are more precious than my eyes and hands and feet. And as for Mom — Dad, I’m assertive, not suicidal. I value all of my limbs too much to ever think of picking a fight with Mom. Why, she could singe my eyebrows off with just a few choice words — she wouldn’t even have to lay a hand on me.

Dad grinned at both of us, and then nodded his head slowly. It’s true that you are becoming a man. Already you are showing the wisdom that comes with maturity.

We descended the wide, grand staircase from the Temple down into the city. Merchants clogged the narrow street. We walked between rows of carts and booths where they called out what merchandise they had and shouted promises of unbeatable prices. When they saw the make of our clothing, they fawned over Dad and Mom, swearing somewhat blasphemously that God himself had blessed their gardens with superior soil and rain to grow only the finest fruits and vegetables. Our parents smiled but passed by most of them, only occasionally stopping to glance at some items.

Simon ran back and stopped breathlessly in front of Jesus and me. Come look! He led us forward ahead of the family.

There, beyond the last of the merchants’ carts, on the ground and leaning against the corner of a small building, sat a man with a pair of bone-thin legs curled beneath him. Looking at no one in particular as the crowd flowed past in an unending stream, he held one hand out, palm upward, in supplication.

Alms for the infirm? Help a poor man with a broken body. Have mercy on me, sir! Amid the cacophony of the street, his weak voice barely made an impression, and no one seemed to notice him but us.

It was a street beggar, of which Jerusalem seemed to have many. In Sepphoris where we lived in the north, beggars might occasionally pass through on their way elsewhere but they would never stay for long in a single place. They might get an offer of a single meal if they had a good tale to tell how they came to find themselves in such dire need, but would soon be shooed out of town if they continued to ask for handouts without working to earn their food.

This man, on the other hand, clearly could do no work. I doubted whether those legs would even support him if he tried to stand, and his arms looked too weak to lift a shovel, let alone use it to dig a hole. I had never seen anyone who looked like this.

Jesus turned back toward the family. Dad, shouldn’t we give something to that man over there. It looks like he can’t even walk.

Dad seemed startled out of deep thought by the intrusion. He glanced at the beggar and waved Jesus off. You’ve already cost me enough money today, young man.

I was still horrified by the man’s appearance, so I felt I had to speak up. But D-d-dad, J-j-james has instructed us re-repea-repeatedly on this. Don’t the prophets tell us to sup-p-port the p-poor? Surely this man is in n-need of help.

Dad turned to me, and a moment later his expression softened. Remember when you’re here in Jerusalem to call your brother Jacob, not James. That man, he said, indicating the beggar, could walk if he had somewhere to go and something to do. His problem is that he has nowhere to go and nothing to do. He probably doesn’t even remember his own name, let alone that of his father or his father’s father. He paused for a moment, and then seemed to relent and reached into the pouch under the left side of his tunic. Oh, very well — here is a coin. Go and give it to him.

I took the copper from him. Simon, Jesus and I turned and ran up the lane.

Alms for the infirm? Help a poor man with a broken body. Have mercy on me, sir.

I stepped forward proudly. Here, s-s-sir, take this c-c-coin.

Simon stepped up beside me. We hope you can use this money to make a better life for yourself.

The man’s eyes suddenly came into focus, and he peered at us to see if we were mocking him. He snatched the coin from me, studied it closely for a moment and then tucked it out of sight in the folds of the shabby cloth he had wrapped around himself. Thank you, he said simply. Then he turned his face toward the passing crowd. Alms for the infirm? Help a poor man with a broken body. Have mercy on me, sir.

Seeing that he would just continue his chant uninterrupted, we backed away. You see? Dad said. Nowhere to go and nothing to do.

JAMES

John was trying to impress little Mary, as expected. I let him brag without interrupting or correcting him. I had no need to impress anyone. Even though she was only four years old, everybody wanted to win over Mary. But I thought of her almost as my little sister. I glanced out from the inner courtyard where we were talking and noticed that my family’s caravan had arrived, but I made no move to go greet them. Father and Mother would come to see me at the proper time, after they had spoken with Benjamin, my host here in Bethany, and his wife Leah. I could see the servants were unpacking tents and cooking supplies from the wagons, and Father’s guards were fanning out around the estate where they could see all the paths of approach. Two of the men led the oxen to water and a field of grass where they could feed.

Meanwhile, I turned my attention back to John.

While it’s true that I have to clean and polish the utensils on the altar and perform menial chores like mopping up the blood after the sacrifices, he said, most of my time is spent studying Scripture and listening to the rabbis discuss the prophets.

Mary had an inquisitive sparkle in her eyes. And what do the prophets say?

John gave his bushy head of curls a bit of a shake, and puffed out his barrel of a chest. He arched his eyebrows and held out an upraised forefinger, almost as if he were one of the rabbis delivering a lecture.

They say that Rome is the second Babylon, and that the Lord our God will raise up a mighty warrior to restore self-rule to Jerusalem. Some of them say that until that time, we must be patient just as the Lord our God is patient with us, and tolerate the barbarians in our midst. Others insist that the Temple will remain polluted until the foreigners are driven from our land.

He was about to continue when a new voice rang out in the courtyard. Didn’t the prophets also say something about our people changing their evil ways?

John’s mouth was still open in mid-sentence when he turned and recognized the newcomer. Joshua, he shouted, a broad smile suddenly erasing the creases across his forehead. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the slimmer Jesus in a tight hug, and then did the same with Judas and Simon. He bowed his head to Joanna and Susanna.

John, the priesthood will be the death of you yet, said Jesus as he tenderly massaged his ribs after John’s hug.

Mary and her brother also greeted Jesus. Eleazar, Jesus said to Benjamin’s son, peace be with you. And also with you, Mary.

Then he stopped before me. He nodded curtly with a solemn expression on his face before crying out in a melodramatic voice, Greetings, O Righteous One, for whom Heaven and Earth were created. He then turned his back to me and addressed the others. I present to you all my older brother Jacob, who is destined to restore us to God’s favor. With that he made a deep, sweeping bow, with one hand pointing backward to indicate I was the one so honored.

His proffered posterior was too much to resist, and I connected a well-aimed toe in a swift kick that sent him tumbling. Smart ass, I yelled at him, and we all laughed, Jesus the loudest.

Eleazar, normally a quiet boy who withdrew into his own world, seemed ecstatic at my family’s arrival. Will you be spending the night with us?

I hope so, young Simon piped up. It’s too late in the day to make it through the hills to Jericho, and I don’t want to camp out in the wilderness.

Jesus turned to John again. So, cousin, are you taking good care of my brother at the Temple?

I don’t need to take care of him, John said with a grin. Unlike yourself, he doesn’t purposely set out to make trouble. Also, the rabbis say he has a natural understanding of Scripture, almost as if he had consulted with the authors themselves.

I tried not to let my face show any reaction to the compliment, but I made a mental note to lighten up on my criticism of John during our studies. He wasn’t as dumb as he looked after all.

John sat on the bench between Mary and my sister Susanna before addressing Jesus again. So you made a sacrifice to mark your twelfth birthday?

"Yeah, but I don’t think they like me as much as James, I mean Jacob. None of the scholars asked my opinion about anything, and they seem to have misplaced my invitation for a return visit."

Judas spoke up from where he was standing near the entrance to the courtyard. He had been standing there gazing in silence at young Mary, but now he joined the conversation. They got really ma-mad at him today for yelling at the Ro-romans. The priest Annas made Da-dad and me go talk to the captain of the g-g-guards.

Not again! I’m afraid I might have raised my voice a bit when I turned on Jesus. I really wish you wouldn’t do that. It just makes things difficult for me. With our family lines, you know they’re just looking for an excuse to attack me.

Who — the Romans or the priests?

I caught myself before yelling in response. After taking a moment to calm myself, I answered almost in a whisper, Both.

It was little Mary who broke the awkward silence. What do you mean about your family lines?

Simon apparently felt that he had to interject something to prove he was more than an ornament. He resembled a younger version of myself, but I never had much confidence in his mental capacity. Even I know that, he said. Our father can trace his family back to King David, but Mom’s family goes back to Zadok, David’s high priest. He glanced at me for confirmation, and grinned like the village idiot when I nodded.

What does that have to do with it, Mary persisted. Why would the Romans care who your ancestors were?

John glanced sideways at her before returning his gaze to a small stick in his hand, which he absently turned over and over as if it were hurtling through the air. It’s complicated, he explained. The Romans sell the high priest’s seat to the top bidder, but an heir to Zadok would have a divine right to the position. And if there was ever an uprising, the people might try to place an heir to King David on the throne. Our friend Jacob here is one of the only people in the world who could claim both positions. So if the Romans fear a revolt, Jacob will probably be one of the first people executed.

Everyone fell silent at the implications. The weight of my situation was apparent to all, and I’m sure they all understood my caution. I excelled in my studies at the Temple, and I was certain that I would be elevated to the position of priest, perhaps even High Priest one day with the help of Father’s money. But I must not draw attention to myself or else, as John had said, I would become a target. The Romans lined the roads outside the gates with crosses bearing men they had executed, their bloody bodies hanging as stark reminders to passersby what the cost would be if they stepped out of line. All the children in the courtyard around me remained silent out of respect for my precarious position.

All except, of course, Jesus. He strolled over nonchalantly and rubbed a fold in my clothing between his thumb and forefinger.

Hey, if you die, can I have your tunic? This material looks really nice.

Smart ass! I yelled, as I jumped up from my seat and chased him out of the courtyard to where the beasts were grazing. If I could catch him, this time he’d get more than the end of my toe.

SIMON

The sun was lowering toward the west as our caravan started to set up camp outside Jericho. Dad said the family would go into the city to visit an old friend of his. The servants and guards would stay with the wagons at the camp to eat and stay warm around a fire, and protect the goods Dad was transporting home.

Boys, come walk with me. I have to talk to you about something important that will affect you all. I hurried up and reached his side before the others. Dad didn’t often ask to speak to me about anything important. Jesus and Judas caught moments later. Mom and the girls trailed a ways behind us, chattering among themselves.

What’s up? Jesus asked in his usual, casual tone. But Dad stopped and turned to us, looking each of us in the eyes intently. No time for joking around.

After a moment’s silence, he continued walking and we adjusted our pace to stay even with him.

James will remain dedicated to the Temple. When the Lord’s messenger calls on me again, the three of you will bear responsibility for the family.

But Da-da-dad, nothing’s go-going to happen to you, Judas protested.

Silent, my son. I am telling you this now so that all three of you will have time to learn, to prepare yourselves. We have many business interests that you will need to learn about. Herod Antipas hopes to match his father’s reputation for raising up grand buildings, and I hire many workers for some of these construction projects. Also, I have recently paid the taxes for a farmer with a vineyard, so we have an opportunity to learn about winemaking. And of course, I have longstanding friendships with traders from the east and the south, and I want you to see how I deal with these men so you can take over one day. This will take many years, which is why I am telling you now. You have had a very easy life at home in Sepphoris, but it’s time for me to teach you the family business.

I was walking closest to Dad, so he looked at me with a smile before turning his attention to the path before us. I didn’t know what to say, so I was just going to walk along