"Where is our son?" Mary was occupied with preparations for the journey back to Nazareth. As was her custom, she checked her mental list of items to be secured before they left. All the clothing and food had been packed. All the children in the caravan--except Jesus--were playing games with the children of other families from Nazareth and from other towns along the way. Mary had packed away the last vessel when she had asked the question. "Playing with young Eben last time I saw him," her husband responded.

Mary relaxed. Eben's mother was one of her favorite friends. Often they went to the well together. Jesus was in safe hands. She continued to make ready.

The caravan had traveled most of the day and the sky began to darken. The first star blinked in the waning sunset. Mary spoke to Joseph, "Will you please fetch Jesus now? It is time for him to come home." Joseph acknowledged his wife's request and walked away in the direction of their friend's position in the caravan. When he arrived he saw Eben with his family, but nowhere did he see his son. "Isn't Jesus with you?" he asked of Eben's father.

"Why no. The last time we saw him," he turned to his son, "Eben, weren't you playing with Jesus on the Temple grounds?"

"Yes, father."

"Then where is he?"

"I don't know father." The boy was not about to tell on Jesus. Besides, if he did he might get into trouble himself.

"Where did you leave him?" This time from Joseph trying to hold back the rising tension in his concern.

"I don't know, sir," the boy seemed frightened. "We were together in the crowd and then I couldn't find him. We got separated." Joseph looked with alarm at the boy's father.

Joseph quickly turned to go to his wife. "We must turn back."

"We will go with you!." assured Eben's father.

When Mary heard the news, her face contorted with fear. "Oh no!" she cried. "What has happened to my son!?" Joseph tried to comfort her to no avail. He is not the child's father. How could he possibly know!? Her fright combined with frustration that privately and unjustifiably burned toward her husband. She wailed, "Oh God, help him. Perhaps he has fallen into the hands of terrible men." She allowed her mind to think the worst. She knew that slavers sometimes kidnapped young boys for unspeakable purposes. Or perhaps he lay dead or dying in a wadi somewhere. All thoughts of future blessing and prophetic fulfillment evaporated before the accusing specter of parental irresponsibility. "Oh, Jesus, my son!" she wailed.

"Hold onto yourself, Mary. Think! You know God will take care of him." Joseph's voice suddenly sobered her. Of course, he was concerned. Joseph had never treated Jesus in any other way than that of a favored son. He loved Jesus as much as she. Oh, strong Joseph! Thank God, he is at my side.

"Hurry!" said Mary. "Let us leave now! Let us search. I will not leave Jerusalem until he is found!"

"We will find him," said Joseph with determination. "Of that I can promise."

Jesus emerged from the sanctuary curtain three days later, yet it had seemed for him but a moment fleeting. He felt different than he felt before he entered the sanctuary. No longer the adventurous boy, but the beginning of a man stepped that day from the folds of the curtain. What had he seen in Herod's empty sanctuary? What had he felt? What had he heard? What had touched him? As he made his way from the Temple that day, he only knew that he had experienced something. Encountered Someone. In the deep, quiet eddies of his spirit he knew he would never be the same.

Profoundly affected by his solitary experience in the sanctuary, Jesus moved through the Temple in a straight line, noticed by passers-by, but not disturbed. To them, he seemed a strange looking boy. Perhaps lost. An occasional mother wondered if his parents knew his whereabouts. Jesus was not thinking of his parents. Nor had he a single thought that Eben had not been waiting for him. While his mind was clear, his sensitivity to his environs was overcome by his focus. All he could think of for the moment was, . . . well, what was it? Contact? In the sanctuary? He knew something had happened to him, yet he could not grasp it, could not comprehend it. He felt himself glowing inside, almost vibrating with an inexorable quality of transcendence. Whatever it was, it made him feel enfranchised, enabled. He was not afraid. He would never be afraid again.

Soon he found himself among the great marble colonnades of Solomon's porch. He paused, gazed up their graceful lengths and wondered if they might reach to the heights of what he felt inside, and then continued on. In a moment, he heard a voice that penetrated his focus. The sound carried through the door out into the passageway between the columns. It must have been an important voice for Jesus was intensely focused at that moment. He stopped to see. A man with a great beard flecked with grey was holding court with a group of what appeared to be students in one of the anterooms off the side of the porch. Other older men were with them, rabbis and elders no doubt. Jesus listened.

The group consisted of men, or at least, males. Some were boys his age. They sat squirming on the floor, trying to be quiet, but for the most part very bored. The others were a mixture of younger men ascending in age all the way up to the rabbis who to Jesus, seemed quite old. There were maybe thirty in all. They were asking questions about the Feast of the Passover, about why this annual, celebratory trek to Jerusalem.

One young man about eight or nine years Jesus' senior stood, "Did not Moses and the children of Israel eat the Passover in their own homes in Egypt? Did they not apply blood to the posts and lintels of their own homes? Then why must we and our families now come all the way to Jerusalem to celebrate this holy day?" One of the rabbis, whose beard was black and well oiled, seemed offended at the impertinence of the question and was about to reply with rebuking words. But greybeard smiled. "Do you think the journey too arduous, my young friend? Is such a man of youth and vigor as yourself so easily fatigued?"

Soft laughter from the others. "Do you not recall," greybeard continued, "in the days of Hezekiah, king of Israel, that he sent letters to Ephraim and Manesseh, calling all the priests and Levites to Jerusalem to celebrate the Feast of Passover . . ?"

"That is true, rabbi . . ." He was interrupted by a very young voice. All eyes turned toward Jesus who was standing at the rear of the group. "Yet do you not also recall that it was Josiah, son of Amon and king of Israel, who established Jerusalem as the place where all Israel should observe Passover?" The rest of the students were stunned that an inexperienced and uneducated child should respond to the rabbis with such confidence and poise. Some of them sucked their breath in surprise. The rabbis' eyes widened. Blackbeard glowered. Greybeard seemed amused. "For do not the Scriptures say," Jesus continued, that "king Josiah commanded all the people saying, 'Celebrate the Passover to the LORD your God as it is written in this book of the covenant, in Jerusalem?'"

"Well, it seems I stand corrected!" greybeard smiled. "And who might this young scholar be?" My name is "Jesus, Jesus ben Joseph." Spoken with confidence. Spoken perhaps even with a bit of pride. "Joseph?" said greybeard, raising one eyebrow. "Common enough name." Turning to a colleague, he asked loud enough for all to hear, "Is there a rabbi named Joseph?" He assumed Jesus had learned the scriptures from his father. The implication of the joke was not lost on Jesus and it irritated him.

"He is not a rabbi!" responded the boy perhaps too sharply. "He is . . . a carpenter." A ripple of laughter among the students. Greybeard smiled again, marvelously amused. Even Blackbeard smiled.

"Then whence learned you such wisdom?"

"It is not wisdom to remember simple facts from scripture," replied Jesus. It was not said insolently or disrespectfully. He spoke with the innocence of his age, but now the joke was on the ancient rabbi. More laughter among the students.

"My son!" a commanding voice from the rear of the room. An embarrassed Joseph stood in the doorway, his face revealing relief, anger and shock at what he witnessed. A second later the boy's mother rushed by his father pushing him aside. She ran quickly into the room taking Jesus by the shoulders. She hugged him and wept. Then holding him at arm's length she scolded, "Jesus! How is it that you have treated us in this way?" She paused and looked at her son. He seemed totally without understanding of her concern. "Ah!" she cried in strong exclamation. "Your father and I have been in anguish searching for you."

The rabbis and students looked on in curious silence. They were all waiting for Jesus' explanation. Perhaps the rabbis would come to his rescue. Greybeard seemed to sense the expectation of the students. After all, young Jesus was something of a hero to them now. He was looked upon with a favor akin to respect. Greybeard, say something! "Madam I," Greybeard was cut short.

Jesus finally found his tongue in response to his intensely emotional mother. "Mother, did you not realize that I must attend to my Father's business?" asked Jesus shakily. Again, the question would appear insolent and insensitive were it not for the innocent tone in which it was asked.

Joseph, however, would have none of these whimsical, pietistic answers from his son who, as far as he was concerned, had done something serious and very wrong. He had with apparent disregard violated the wishes of his parents. This was unacceptable. Taking Jesus by the arm and leading him from the room, he whispered into his son's ear, "Father's business or not, boy, the next time you run off on an escapade like this, you will answer to this father!" This time, raucous laughter from the students. Joseph's big, calloused carpenter's hand hurt. Jesus could not remember seeing his father so angry. Suddenly, he was a boy again. He knew he would be disciplined, and he knew it would not be pleasant. He had caused his parents much concern and pain. At the age when he was supposed to become a man, this was not good. He knew that he had violated their trust. He accepted the penalty that was to come.

His mother, however, despite her fears, pondered the response of her son. It was a response that would haunt her for the rest of her life.