CROSS PURPOSES

It was somewhat disconcerting to find that Rabbi Judah ben Judah had been replaced (at the Acadamy) and that the rabbi in charge of the Jeremiah course is to be Rabbi Joseph ben Jamin. A venerable man, the rabbi's age, we hoped, would provide for us a profound depth and width of understanding that... 'Come quick! you cannot miss it. It is amazing, quite bizarre! A boy! Look at him there, among that heap of rabbis.' My student friend, Johanan, tugged my cloak and we hurried on to where a crowd was gathering but, surprisingly, there was a stunned silence abroad. There, in the Temple Court of Men, was a sturdy young lad yet not "of age". Around the boy were seated some of the finest rabbis in our school. Yes! there was Rabbi Judah ben Judah... Nicodemus, I see there too. Johanan and I edged closer until we could hear the exchanges taking place. I could not understand this dramatic scene. How could a mere boy command the attention of the Temple's intellectual elite? What's that he asks of them? Where did a question such as that come from? The boy spoke with a northern accent, hardly conducive to a serious debate. His clothing was simple, home spun. Bronzed by the summer suns, this lad had no need of clothing that would mark him out as the son of a celebrity, or a cultured voice displaying his tutoring by learned men. But he held "the floor"! (Well, the courtyard, actually). What's that he asked? All search around for some men of studious intent to give an adequate response. Now came another question to challenge the teachers: 'YHVH, according to the Holy Writ, IS the God of Abraham, IS the God of Isaac, and of Jacob. Gentlemen, this honored text is set in the present tense. It has been thought, without a qualm, that Abraham, Isaac and Jacob are all dead. How come, the present tense?' O, Joy of Heaven! My question asked again. What will the rabbis say today? But, not a word? The rabbis fail to answer it. Another question is now flung at them. 'King David wrote a psalm that commences with... (This child knows the Holy Scripture, knows it well! How come, such knowledge from those despised northern climes)? 'But first, let me ask: who is the Mashiach (the Messiah)?' An answer now; good old Rabbi Joseph ben Jamin! 'Why, the son of David, of course!' 'Then why, Rabbi, did King David record these words, "The LORD says to my Lord: sit at My right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for Your feet"? Please, tell me now, if the Mashiach, Messiah, is indeed "the son of David", why does David refer to him as "Lord"?' Silence reigned. Joy! Oh, joy! Outsmarted by a boy. Unforgettable! It would be almost twenty years before i would hear that question again. And then - as now - there would be no answers, just an ever-deepening hatred for... But I get ahead of myself. I also had some questions to be answered, of a very different kind. Who was this child? I stared at him. He returned my gaze. He smiled at me. He smiled at me! Where had I seen that smile? No! No! No! Surely not! But, that smile? The boy left the stunned rabbis and the gathered onlookers. He came right up to me. He took my hand! 'Kebes? My little "lamb"? 'Yeshua, (Jesus) is it really you? You are alive? (ou escaped from Bethlehem? There was no need of a reply for he smiled at me. I wanted, then, to hug the boy. But a pandemonium broke out. A woman had broken through to the Court of Men! An older man was at her side, endeavoring to restrain her. 'My son, Yeshua, my son! How could you do this to us? a day out, on the road to Nazareth. We couldn't find you. Returned to the city. We've been searching for three days. Three days, Yeshua! How could you have done this to us?' 'Emi, (Mother), dear, do you not know that I must be doing all that my Father asks of me?' His father? But, surely, here was his father, intent on chastising his - supposedly - wayward son! Yes! this was indeed Mary and Joseph whom I had liked so much back there, those years ago in Bethlehem. They were not dead! They were alive. The family had escaped the slaughter of Herod's murderous rage. I was so very sorry that Yehudith and Baruch, my parents, had already returned to Bethlehem following the Feast of Passover. They would have been ecstatic at such a reunion. I would send word to them. Joesph, tired and overwrought, took his child's hand - a little roughly, I thought. But still, they had been searching for him three days in the streets and alleyways of Jerusalem! For three whole days... For three days, lost! No wonder they were perplexed! Yeshua waved at me. He said, 'I'll find you again one day!'