J
oseph’s sleep was also troubled. He had slept through the noise of the departing caravan, but now his mind seemed alert to the nuances of the night. A creeping sense of dread paralyzed his breathing. Next to the sleeping young mother, the babe twisted and flailed.
“Joseph.”
It was not a sound, yet his eyes fluttered as if he had heard something.
“Joseph, arise!” The voice was urgent, irresistible. Joseph could not yet open his eyes, yet he could hear and comprehend. “Herod is conspiring to kill your son. You must go away — far away. Far enough that the king will not attempt to follow you.” Joseph listened to each syllable, the spit evaporating in his mouth. His limbs twitched. He tried to move, to get up; to run but he could not. In his dream, he poured all his energy into action, but felt as though locked in muck. “You must flee to Egypt . . .”
He awakened, his night clothing damp with perspiration. He glanced first at the child and then at Mary. Both were slumbering comfortably. He started to dismiss the nightmare . . . some intuition coerced him to investigate. His mind fell upon the caravan, the camels, the Magi. He arose and plodded his way to the door of the house. Peering outside into the small hours of the night, he could still smell the animals, but they were gone. No one was in sight. They had vanished.
You must flee to Egypt!
The urgency of the appeal, no; the authority of it frightened him. Why Egypt? Questioning confused him.
While Herod the king had assisted Julius Caesar in conquering that land, his memory of Cleopatra’s hatred held him from further adventures there. Though dead now these thirty years, yet she lived in the hearts of the Egyptians, however subjected to Roman rule. Herod also knew that he could not trifle with the Roman Empire; however secure his position in Israel.
Joseph, young peasant that he was, knew none of this. He had no way of knowing that Herod would not dare follow them to Egypt. The agitation he felt bewildered him. Where did they go? He could not understand why the Magi would leave without telling him. The baby! He hurried back to where the child lay. The infant was asleep on his pallet, next to his mother. Joseph considered the peaceful scene of child and mother and wondered how he could have been so fortunate. This beautiful and special Child, he thought. Herod seeks to destroy him? Why? The sense of dread had not left him. He moved closer to his wife. He was not sure if he should wake her or go back to sleep himself. He lay back down. His eyes open. He tried to close them. He tried to sleep. At length, he turned to Mary, shaking her gently he said, “Awake, my darling.”
Before the first rays of light tiptoed through the night, another caravan departed in the cool quiet of darkness. Against a backdrop of starlight, an ass carried a mother and child, an ass carried a father and an ass carried their provisions. Egypt awaited them.
Out of Egypt have I called my Son.
