The sheer size of the Temple and its enclosure overwhelmed Jesus. Struggling with overloaded emotions, he wanted to explore, but did he dare? Suppose he got lost in this monstrous place?

"Have you ever seen such a place?" he shouted to his friend, Eben.

One year older than Jesus, this was Eben's second Passover. He assumed the attitude of an experienced participant, "You haven't seen anything yet. Wait until you get inside. There are doors so large that ten grown-ups standing on each other's shoulders could not reach the top." Jesus did not doubt it.

"Why so large?"

"Well," said Eben with authority, "You have to have large doors to let God in." Jesus looked at his friend marveling at his obvious stupidity.

"God doesn't live here!" he declared.

"Does, too!" Eben shot back.

"Rabbi Abjo-ram said that 'God does not live in a place built with hands.'"

"I don't care." Eben couldn't think of a rabbi to quote, "My father told me that God lives behind the great veil in the Holy of Holies."

Jesus persisted, "I don't see how the God who created the whole world and the stars and stuff could live . . ." the argument escalated as they passed through the gate and into the courtyard.

Approaching twelve years of age, Jesus already had three younger brothers and one sister. The next eldest, James, would be eligible to attend Passover in two years. For this occasion, all but Jesus stayed behind in Nazareth. Eben and Jesus, living next door to each other, had "grown up" together, playing together, doing all the things boys did together. They were "best friends."

While somewhat contemplative and withdrawn, Jesus lived in all respects as a normal child. Joining his friends playing caravan, skipping pebbles on ponds, and chewing on weeds, he sometimes went off by himself to be alone. A casual observer might conclude that the boy was melancholy or morose. This was not the case. Jesus did seem to spend an inordinate time in prayer for an active boy and often surprised adults with penetrating questions or observations that made them look at each other in amazement; never precocious but different; playful, but rarely frivolous. Coarse references in which all boys were prone to engage, for him came less frequently. Other children in the neighborhood liked and accepted him as one of them. Sometimes, one of the larger boys would try to bully him. Jesus did not fight, but he never showed fear. The larger, more aggressive boys left him alone. He never "ran home" to relate his story of woe to his mother. For this, he won the respect of the other children. Most of the children sought to play with him. Some of the older boys were jealous of this respect and wondered that if he would not fight, how could others want to be around him so?

Jesus accepted this respect as though it were an obvious thing for others to offer. It never occurred to him that he was special or, God forbid, that he was unusual. There were, of course, the whispers about how he was born. Jesus did not understand these things and did not care at all to discuss them. On those rare, quiet moments with his mother or father, or perhaps with them both, he would ask, "Why do I feel so different from everyone else?" Or, having heard the rumors about his birth he would wonder, Do I not have an earthly father? Am I really adopted? Or, when some of the darker rumors would surface he thought, I am Joseph's son! I am not a child of forni . . . fornication! These things passed through his mind as a boy. But the questions did not generate anxiety nor apprehension. He was a secure child. Secure with others. Secure with himself.

"Look!" cried Eben.

A covey of sacrificial doves had escaped, forming shapes in the sky among the columns of the Temple as they beat white wings in graceful flurries of motion. How they knew to change direction, all at the same time, how they managed to dodge the many protuberances of Temple architecture, was an amazement and wonder to the boys. Each thought, "If I could only catch one, I would take it home and give it a name, and I would get to keep it!"

People were everywhere. The boys were jostled more than once by unthinking grown-ups, oblivious to their presence. They were bumped, cursed at, frowned upon and ignored. They looked around and discovered that their parents had--disappeared! At first, they panicked. Looking about, they searched frantically. To lose their parents in a place like this is frightening even for almost grown-up boys. Still, their panic subsided as boyhood curiosity returned, distracting them.

Wandering through the wall of bodies, they came upon a drainage grate in the pavement. It was ajar, exposing an aperture that gave way to darkness beneath. Jesus wanted to investigate. Struggling, the boys managed to pull the heavy grate open just enough for each of them to squeeze through. Stepping-stones had been chiseled into the walls of the cavity that allowed them to descend into its darkness. It was not deep and at its bottom stretched a long, dark tunnel just high enough so that the boys had to get down on their hands and knees rather than crouch.

As their eyes adjusted to the poor light, they noticed another light in the distance down the length of the tunnel, indicating yet another opening to a grate above. "Com'on, Let's crawl to the other grate," Jesus said, excitedly.

"What if we get caught?" responded Eben circumspectly. "We are not supposed to be down here."

"Who's to know?" asked Jesus.

"GOD will know!" shot back Eben.

Jesus smiled, "Yes, that's true, now come on!" With that, he started to crawl toward the next shaft of light. It seemed natural to Jesus that, rather than God punishing them for this adventure, he would be with them and protect them. There wasn't much that frightened Jesus, and as for getting caught doing something of which adults would disapprove, well . . . In a few minutes they were there. Voices and noise from the floor above drifted down eerily.

"We're exploring a cave," said Jesus as if he had to add imagination to the adventure.

"Maybe we will find some bones or a skull." Eben's imagination quickly caught up. Since they had made it through the tunnel this far, he provoked himself to be a co-discoverer with Jesus.

Another shaft of light beckoned in the distance. Off they crawled. And so it went, from shaft to shaft, from grate to grate the boys explored the tunnels of the Temple until, at length, the next shaft of light was barely discernible in the distance. They stopped. Neither boy seemed eager to proceed.

"I think we should get out now," said Eben.

They sat under the last grate to which they had come. The sounds from above were quieter. They had apparently moved from the center of foot traffic and activity in the Temple to a place of lesser interest.

"This is a good place to escape before we get into real trouble. It doesn't sound like there are very many people around," spoke Eben softly.

Jesus looked above and then peered at the grey light so very far away down the tunnel. "Let's try it, Eben," he grinned.

"I'm not so sure," Eben was afraid but did not want it to show.

"It will be all right, Eben." Jesus coaxed, "God will take care of us." Eben was unconvinced.

"God will kill us!"

"No, he won't!"

"It's a real long way and it looks pretty dark."

"This will be the last one," Jesus said conspiratorially. "At the next light, we will definitely get out of here." Eben's heart throbbed with apprehension. "Come on," and off Jesus crawled. The other boy had no choice but to follow.

They had not gone far, maybe one-third of the way to the next shaft of light when Jesus cried, "Ay-yah!" and abruptly stopped.

"What happened?" from frightened Eben.

"I don't know. I crawled on something." For the first time, Jesus found himself disquieted.

"Is it alive?" Eben groaned.

"No." Jesus paused as if searching. "There! I've got it. It's, it's some kind of weapon." The light in the tunnel was too dim to see much of anything. Jesus felt the instrument with his hands. "I think, I think . . . It's a dagger!" Both boys shrieked.

"Oh, no!" cried Eben.

"And it's covered with blood!" cried Jesus.

"Oh, no!" again from Eben. "Murder!"

The boys had not realized it, but the tunnel floor had begun to rise in the direction they were headed. The light they had seen was not the direct light of the next shaft, but the residual light from a shaft even farther up the tunnel. Hearts now pounding with excitement, they crawled faster, knees skinning against stone. From the point where they found the "dagger," the incline increased sharply until at long last, direct light from above came into view.

"Come on," said Jesus, "let's get out of here." Off he scurried toward the light as fast as he could. Eben followed. When they reached the grate from which the light emanated, they stopped to catch their breath. Both boys were panting.

"Let me see," demanded Eben breathlessly. The light was enough now to make out the object of such consternation. To their great disappointment, it was merely a trowel left behind by some worker many years ago. When the boys saw this, they breathed a sigh of relief. "It's only a mason's tool," said Eben. "It's no dagger at all."

Jesus tossed it aside, a look of disgust on his face. "It could have been used in a murder," he replied. "That brown stuff on it really looks like blood."

Light streamed from the grate above. It was a moment before the boys realized that no sounds could be heard. Cautiously, they made their way up the stones in the wall to the grate. The climb was higher here than was their descent into the tunnel. That combined with the long incline of the tunnel indicated a floor level much higher than the place they entered. Once again, Jesus first. To their thankful surprise, the grate moved easily. In a moment, they were out of the tunnel and standing on--a marble floor, mirror polished! The grate opened between two massive tables. There was a large altar with a ramp leading up to a flat surface. A basin, or laver, containing water stood to the left as they faced a flight of stairs. At the top of the stairs there were two golden candlesticks followed by an opening into another spacious room at the end of which hung a thick curtain. The boys approached the curtain hanging wider and taller than anything either of them had ever seen.

Visibly moved by the sanctity of the cavernous structure, the two explorers became quiet. They could hear themselves breathing. The spirit of adventure pounding at their temples, yet not a sound was uttered. His demeanor sober, yet soft, Jesus' face turned serious. He was almost of age, and something inside him exerted itself. He stood looking at the great purple and scarlet curtain. He said to Eben, "Wait here," and without waiting for his friend to protest, he stepped inside its folds. Upon doing so, he instantly encountered another curtain, slightly less dense than the first. In the darkness, the boy calmly bent down, lifted its hem, and stepped under. It was then that young Jesus found himself standing in the Holy of Holies.

Except for light filtering in from sources unknown to Jesus, illuminating three stone walls, the floor, the ceiling and the curtain behind him, the room was empty. No furniture, no altars, not even a carpet. Just an empty room. Without realizing why, the boy felt comfortable. He felt as though this were a familiar place very much like home. He knew that this place was a sanctuary, a place for the presence of God, yet there was nothing here. Just an empty, bare room, nothing to suggest even that it had a sacred meaning. He knew intuitively that this room was the heart of the great Temple, the focus and center of worship for all Israel. Crossing his legs, Jesus sat on the floor and promptly forgot about his friend waiting outside the curtain.

From the moment Jesus entered the fold of the curtain, Eben felt apprehensive. Only a few seconds passed before he began to call, "Jesus? Jesus . . ? Jesus!" He dared not call above a whisper. He did not want to be discovered here. But Jesus did not hear. The curtain was too heavy, muffling any voice as tiny as the boy made. Eben waited, looking anxiously at the doorways into the Holy Place. It seemed he waited forever while Jesus remained silent inside the curtain. To Eben, it seemed the giant curtain had swallowed his friend. Then he heard voices. Footsteps coming. He had to hide. Behind the big altar. Sure enough, two priests entered the room and walked directly toward one of the tables. The two men spoke to one another of liturgical arrangements while Eben huddled on the floor behind the altar, hoping he would not be discovered. Would they go inside the curtain and find Jesus? What would they do if they found him? He wished with all his heart that he had not been separated from his parents. He closed his eyes and said, "Lord if you let me out of here, I will never . . ."

Before Eben completed his short prayer, the men were gone. He called to Jesus again. No answer. He wanted to follow his friend behind the curtain, but the fear in him precluded that. He could not move, let alone take a step toward the curtain. Why doesn't he come out? What's keeping him? Did he leave me and go off on his own? Was he caught by someone on the other side? "Jesus!" he whispered loudly.

Nothing.

What to do? Since he did not know what had happened to Jesus, Eben made the decision to extricate himself from this situation as best he could. He made his way toward the door through which the men had exited. Peering out into the Court of Israel, he saw people moving about, but no one looked in his direction. He slipped out and down the stairs into the Court of the Women unnoticed. There, miraculously, he saw his father, his mother and his older sister. When they saw him, they were angry.

"Where have you been?" his mother demanded.

"Playing with Jesus," he replied, volunteering nothing more. He still did not know of Jesus' whereabouts. He did not want to betray his friend. Perhaps he was safe with his parents as well. He hoped so.

"Don't you ever wander away from us again," his mother scolded. "You may become lost and who knows who might find you. Some terrible thing could happen to you."

"Yes, mother."