I
n all Joseph fathered eight children. All five boys were master carpenters. Young Judas could handle an adze better than any of the others. The senior Joseph, clearly the best woodworker in the family, observed that his third son and namesake, Joseph, learned quickly. This one exceeds the others in raw talent for the work, his father had decided. Possibly exceeding even himself. A fortunate man, all of his sons worked in the trade and still, were unable to keep up with the work. The girls, Milcah, Sarah and Rhoda were a great help also and especially to their mother, his precious Mary.
The house and family of Joseph prospered, enjoying the reputation as the most skilled carpenters throughout the region of Galilee. Jesus was looked upon by the people as one of Joseph’s “carpenter” boys, but unlike his younger brother Joseph, working with wood did not seem to be his passion. Jesus was, well, preoccupied. He has been preoccupied all his life, thought Joseph. He remembered with fondness the time they thought they had lost him. Carrying on with the elders in the temple . . . Joseph smiled at the memory. It wasn’t amusing then.
Over the last several years, his son had become even more detached from the family business. Joseph understood. He had understood all along. I will lose him. The time is approaching. A terrible shudder throbbed in his bones when he thought of it, a permeating pain, from which escape seemed impossible.
In the natural and ordinary earthiness of growing up, it had sometimes been hard for Joseph to think of this son as who he knew him to be. While a happy child with a quick wit and a hearty laugh, Jesus was pensive most of the time, preoccupied with things beyond his father’s ability to imagine. Beyond anyone’s ability to imagine. Despite his terrible uniqueness, Jesus had been a fine son, every inch a source of pride to this father and mother.
He was thirty now, these last months unbearable. His mind was not on carpentry. Who knows where his mind wandered! Jesus often would begin a woodworking project and then half done, turn it over to James or Joseph. Clearly, his heart was no longer in the shaping of wood. And then . . .
