Jesus Lost, and Found, and Lost, and ....

Jesus Lost, and Found, and Lost, and ….

(The Jesus Diary Continues)

I now had two reasons to rejoice. The monster known as Herod was dead. There were celebrations throughout Judea at the news. But Jesus was alive. I knew it. My dreams were real enough to convince me that he had not been among those murdered by Herod; that he had in fact been taken off to a foreign land, perhaps Egypt, and lived happily today with his parents Mary and Joseph.

However, I had not actually seen him. Nevertheless I believed he was still alive. I soon learned that I was correct. This was my first lesson in the power of faith.

I don’t know how many years it had been since that miraculous day in Bethlehem. My life had been crowded with business matters, family issues, and the consistent ongoing stress of Roman oppression. I was tempted to sign up with a group known as the Zealots, a radical outfit that was willing to use any means, legal or illegal, to throw the Roman yoke off the necks of the Jewish people.

I declined their many invitations to join up because I abhorred their use of violence and lawlessness. Plus, as a businessman, I had many Roman friends and, even more important, a good collection of Roman customers. For my own self interest, I stayed out of the political arena.

I had almost given up the prospect of ever seeing Jesus again, other than in my dreams, that is; but I still kept my eyes open and my hopes alive that someday, somewhere, our paths would cross again. Then, unexpectedly, it happened!

The whole experience was very convoluted. I was part of a cadre of pilgrims who had journeyed to Jerusalem for the Passover. After participating in the rituals according to strict Mosaic Law, we said our final goodbyes to both old and new friends and packed up and headed for home. It was a fine Spring day and we were enjoying it to the full. The air was filled with laughter and jokes. I enjoyed the camaraderie. Suddenly a shout rose up from just a short distance away.

"Where is he?" someone shouted. I looked in the direction of the sound and saw that it was Joseph. He was totally distraught. I ran to him. Mary was in tears. Somehow Joseph recognized me.

"Jesus is lost!" he cried. My heart fell with the thought that Jesus was in this caravan and I didn't know it. And now he was lost.

"He was with us in the temple," Mary sobbed. Joseph laid a comforting arm across her shoulders.

Friends and relatives surrounded the bereaved couple, embracing them with warmth and love and promising to do all they could to find and rescue the lost Jesus.

"He's only twelve years old," Mary said.

Joseph countered, "But he's very mature for his age. He might be alright."

"I think we should go back to Jerusalem," Mary said. Everyone agreed and a search party was assembled, which took off the following morning. I was happy to be part of it.

As we headed back to the Holy City I took advantage of the opportunity to talk to Joseph. I was happy to learn that much of what appeared in my dreams was true. The Holy Family actually had been in Egypt, and stayed there until word of Herod's death. Jesus was developing precocious carpentry skills under Joseph's guiding hand.

"He will have a great career as a carpenter," Joseph stated proudly. But then he added, "But God may have greater things in store for him."

We finally reached Jerusalem and immediately headed to the Temple. It was quiet. We muted our voices to remain alert to any sounds that might reveal the presence of a lost young man named Jesus.

Then we heard a burst of laughter, followed by loud exclamations coming from a far off alcove.

"Where does he get this knowledge?"

"Who has taught him these things?

"I have never heard such wisdom from one so young!"

"It's almost like he is teaching us!"

"And he speaks with such authority!"

"Isn't this the carpenter's son?"

We turned the corner and beheld a miraculous scene. Jesus was standing before the rabbis as if lecturing to them, answering their questions and also posing questions they could not answer.

Mary rushed to him and wrapped her arms around him. He pulled away.

"Didn't you know I would be doing my father's business?" he said, holding her at arm's length, the very image of a boy boldly wanting to be a man. Mary's teary eyes met his. Jesus looked away, his eyes also teary.

Wrapping him even tighter in her arms, she pulled him away from the scholars and rabbis in the Temple, giving them an annoyed glare. They had taken away her son and she didn’t like it.
I didn't either.