Seventh Birthday

This is the sixth story in a series of historical fiction pieces I am writing, one per year around Christmas time. I am guided by what little we know from scripture about Jesus' childhood and by my own interaction with children, especially my own grandchildren. The first five stories are available on a side-bar on this blog site. Enjoy! Terry

SEVENTH BIRTHDAY

“Joseph, are you here?”
“Good morning, Jonas. I am here.”
“Ah, good morning, Joseph. How are you? How is your family?”
“We are well, praise God. And how are you? How is your household?”
“We are well, thank you. Joseph, I have come to ask if you can make a payment on your loan this week. It has been more than a month since you have come to see me.”
“I very much appreciate your patience, Jonas. But I am sorry to say that I won’t be able to pay you until I finish this dining set and get paid myself.”
“Oh dear, I was hoping you could show me good faith by paying at least a small sum,” replied the creditor. “Do you have a buyer for the furniture, then?”
“I have an interested party, but he has not declared himself just yet.”
“That is most unfortunate. When will you finish this project so that he can make a decision?”
“Hopefully by the end of next week, Jonas. I’ve been held back a bit by family needs, you know.”
“Yes, I understand that you have twins and are expecting another little blessing soon. When is the baby due?”
“Any day now. Today, perhaps. My Mary is so tired, she can’t imagine waiting another week.”
“Well, and then you will have another mouth to feed. You are going to need help in the shop here, aren’t you? Can you get any work out of this boy or does he just sit by the window and read all day?”
“My son is very diligent in his studies, but he also is a great help to me in the shop,” said Joseph. “Jesus, this is Jonas bin Lemuel. He was kind enough to loan me the money to buy this wood.”
Jesus laid his scroll aside and jumped to his feet. “I am honored to meet you, sir.”
“And I am pleased to meet you, Jesus. What scroll is it that you are reading?”
“It is the scroll of Samuel the Prophet, sir.”
“And you are able to read this scroll?”
“With Abba’s help, yes I am. Every morning I sweep out his shop and then study God’s word until time for tea. Then I sharpen his tools and work with him on his projects until lunch time.”
“And what other scrolls have you read so far?”
“I have read the first two scrolls of Moses, but at first Abba did most of the reading.”
“Joseph, do you own these scrolls?” asked Jonas with surprise.
“No, I borrow them one at a time from a rabbi in Capernaum. I can’t afford to buy such precious things.”
“He is very generous to loan them to you. Is he, by any chance, the customer who is interested in your table and chairs?”
“Yes, he is.”
“Well, I hope his generosity extends to making this purchase very soon, for your sake as well as mine.”
“I hope so, too.”
“Well then, I will let you get on with it. Come to me as soon as you can make a payment, even a small one.”
“Thank you. I assure you I will.”
“And may the Lord bless you with another healthy child in his perfect timing.”
“Thank you, Jonas. Thank you.”

“Abba,” Jesus said when the visitor was gone, “do you need me to stop reading and help you more?”
“No, my son. Jonas will have to extend his patience for a little longer. Please go on with your reading. Read aloud so that I can hear God’s word with you. It is a blessing to me as well as a lesson for you.”
“Okay. ‘One night Eli, whose eyes were becoming so weak that he could barely see, was lying down in his usual place. The lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the tabernacle of the LORD, where the ark of God was. Then the LORD called Samuel.
Samuel answered, "Here I am." And he ran to Eli and said, "Here I am; you called me."
Jesus stopped, puzzled. “Why did he run to Eli when the Lord called him, Abba?”
“That will become clear as you read farther, son. Samuel did not know it was God who called him.”
At that moment the door burst open and Joseph’s mother appeared in a great state of excitement. “Joseph, her time has come. Send Jesus for the midwife and come and help me with the twins.”
“Praise God!” said Joseph. “Jesus, you know what to do. Go get Miriam and tell her to come immediately.”

Jesus carefully closed up the scroll and tied the cord around it as he had been taught. Then he plunged out the door in the wake of his father and grandmother. As they went up the hill to the house, he set off running down to the center of the village to find the midwife.
As he ran, he thought about God calling to Samuel. Why did Samuel not know it was God who called him? Wouldn’t it be obvious? Would God’s voice sound like the voice of Eli, the old, blind priest? It must have sounded like it came from a different room, since Samuel ran to where Eli was sleeping. “I think I would recognize God’s voice, if he called me,” he said to himself.
“Jesus,” shouted a male voice, “hey there, Jesus! Where are you going in such a hurry?”
Jesus skidded to a stop, looking up into the clouds, half expecting God himself to appear.
“Are you headed to my house?” asked the same voice, nearer now.
Jesus spun around and saw Shimei, the father of Miriam approaching him from the market square.
“Oh, it’s you,” said Jesus. “Yes, I was sent to fetch your daughter. My mother needs her now.”
“Well, Miriam told me to watch for you, but I had to run over to the market for some eggs and cheese. It’s bad timing on your mother’s part, son. Miriam is helping another woman and has been with her all night and all morning. Is there anyone with your mother right now?”
“My grandmother and my father are with her, but they have James and Joseph to care for so they really need Miriam, right away.”
“Well, they will have to do the best they can on their own for a little while. Tell them to get some water hot and gather all the clean rags they can. I will send Miriam as soon as she can come.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Jesus and turned to run back up the hill. As he ran, he wondered if God’s voice would sound like Shimei’s. “Will I know you, if you call me, Lord God. Will I recognize your voice?”
When he arrived back home, he could hear his mother moaning and crying out before he even opened the door. It frightened him and made him feel like he had failed by not bringing the midwife with him. As he pushed open the door, his mother’s cries assaulted his ears like accusations. His father turned to him expectantly. He poured out his news and waited for his father’s reaction.
Joseph didn’t even blink. He was busy feeding the twins and calmly replied by praying aloud for God to bless the work of Miriam’s hands and to free her to come in good time. Jesus marveled that his father didn’t even close his eyes to pray. He just spoke as if God was in the room, listening. His mother’s cries subsided for a moment and Grandmother came out of the bedroom to hear the report.
“Where is Miriam?” she asked. “Is she on her way?”
“Not yet, Mother,” replied Joseph, spooning gruel into the hungry mouth of one twin and then the other.
“Why not? It was all arranged. What happened?”
“She has been helping another mother all night and all morning. She will come as soon as she can,” said Joseph.
“Lord have mercy,” sighed the anxious grandmother and returned to the bedroom to attend her daughter-in-law.
“Jesus,” said Joseph, “I am going to try to get your brothers down for a nap. You can go back to the shop and do some cleaning and sharpening for now. I will call you when lunch is ready.”
“Yes, Abba.”

Back in his father’s shop, Jesus found little to sweep up, since the work was interrupted not long after he had done the morning sweeping. It took a few more minutes to hone a proper edge on the drawknife that Joseph had been using. He tested the edge by taking a few experimental pulls on a scrap of wood. He wished he could continue working on the chair leg that his father had begun to shape, but he did not want to spoil the piece. He did not yet have the strength and the experience to keep the project moving forward so as to relieve his father’s indebtedness.
So he returned the drawknife to its peg above the workbench and turned his attention back to the scroll. He was still engrossed in the story of God calling out to Samuel in the middle of the night when his father came down to the shop an hour later.
“Are you hungry,” asked Joseph, pushing the door open with his foot. “I’ve brought lunch down here where there is some peace and quiet.”
“That’s great, Abba. Is mother okay?” He didn’t want to go back and hear or even imagine the great cries he had heard her making.
“It is her time of labor and it is never easy, but by God’s mercy, I think she will be okay.”
“Did Miriam come yet?”
“No, not yet. Hopefully she will come soon. Meantime, your grandmother is a big help to her. Here, we can eat at the workbench. Thank you for cleaning everything up. I’ve brought some good hot soup that your grandmother made and some fresh bread that the neighbor brought over.”
Jesus tied up the scroll of Samuel again and pulled a stool up to his father’s workbench. Joseph gave thanks to God and asked for strength for Mary and wisdom for his mother. Then he broke the fragrant bread and gave a piece to Jesus. As they dipped the bread in their soup and began to eat, Jesus looked up at his father.
“Abba, did you ever hear God’s voice?” he asked.
Joseph thought while he chewed the bread. After swallowing, he said, “No, son. I don’t think I have.”
“But he told you to go to Egypt and then to come home to Israel.”
“True, but every time God has spoken to me, it has been through an angel speaking to me in a dream. I am always asleep.”
“So is that what happened to Samuel?”
“I suppose that might be,” said Joseph.
“But in the scroll it is written that Samuel was lying down, it does not say that he was asleep.”
“Does it say he was awake?”
“No.”
“Then maybe he was asleep and the voice woke him up. It could have been an angel who spoke in a dream, just like what happened to me.”
“But Abba, would Samuel fall asleep three more times and each time the Angel wakes him up?”
“Hmmm… That doesn’t seem very likely, does it? When we finish our lunch, we will look at the scroll together, okay?”
“I think God spoke to him like he spoke to Moses out of the burning bush.”
“Well, that is certainly possible.”
“So what do you think God’s voice sounds like, Abba?”
“God is God, my son. He can make his voice sound like anything he wants it to sound like. He can make it sound like thunder to terrify people as he did with those who followed Moses or he can make it sound like a small, quiet voice like he did with Elijah.”
“So when you hear his voice, how do you know it’s his voice?”
“I don’t know for sure. But if the Lord Almighty wants you to know that he is speaking to you, you will know. He has ways of getting our attention.”
“But Abba,” said Jesus, “it would be terrible if God spoke to someone and he wasn’t listening.”
“My son, that happens all the time. Most people are not listening for God.”
“Well, I’m going to listen for his voice all the time!”
After lunch was over they finished reading about God speaking to Samuel and how old Eli had accepted the judgment against him from God’s hand.
“Since God wanted to pronounce judgment on Eli, why didn’t he speak to Eli, Abba? Why did he speak about Eli to a little boy?”
“Maybe Eli wouldn’t listen to God directly.”
“But Samuel listened.”
“It is not that unusual, my son, for a child to listen to God when an older person is so busy with his own ambitions that his ears are stopped up; he can’t hear God.”
“Well then, I want to stay a child forever. I want to hear when God speaks.”
“I’m sure you will, Jesus. Now I need to get back to the house. If your brothers are awake, Grandma won’t be able to deal with them and still help your mother.”
“Do you need my help, Abba?”
“No, son, I think you would just be upset by your mother’s cries. You can stay here or go out and play, if you like.”
“Uri took his father’s sheep up over the hill above our house this morning. May I go look for him?”
“I suppose that would be alright as long as you don’t distract him from his work.”
“Oh, I won’t. I will help him take care of the flock.”
“Alright, but be back before dusk and don’t go past the spring of Rachel, okay?”
“I hear you, Abba; I will obey you. Thank you, Abba.”
They parted ways near the corner of the house and Jesus scampered on up the track that was marked by sheep droppings and the tracks of many cloven hoofs. He sang to himself as he went, partly to fill his ears with something other than his mother’s cries. But when he was well beyond the house he became quiet in the hopes of hearing the voice of God.
As he walked, he scanned the hillside above in the hopes of finding his friend, Uri. Uri was three years older and was entrusted almost daily with the responsibility for caring for the family flock. It was not a large flock, numbering less than twenty ewes and two rams. But it was a significant part of the family fortune and their care was a sometimes heavy responsibility, particularly in lambing season. Uri did not have the luxury of studying scrolls, but he had lots of time to study nature and the nature of sheep.
Jesus crested the hill without finding so much as a lamb. He proceeded down the other side to the saddle of the next hill and then descended a hundred yards or so to the spring his father had specified as the limit beyond which he was not to go. In the immediate vicinity of the spring there was plenty of fresh evidence of sheep having been there, but none was there now. Nearby was an outcrop of rock and Jesus scaled that to get a vantage point from which to see farther.
Far down the slope of the next hill he spied a couple of forms lying in the shade of a tree. They were probably sheep, but he could see no shepherd. He watched quietly for a few minutes and then whistled as loud as he could. It didn’t seem very loud out in the open, but he tried two or three more times and then watched. At last a third form rose out of the grass and looked around. It was Uri.
Uri waved when he saw Jesus standing on the lookout rock. Then he motioned for Jesus to come. Jesus shook his head and motioned for Uri to come. Uri motioned again and then lay back in the grass. Jesus thought about going but hesitated. His father had given him permission to go seek Uri. But he had also placed a limit and he was already up against that limit. He steeled himself against the temptation and sat down on the rock to wait and watch.
Perhaps half an hour passed before Uri sat up again. Again he waved at Jesus and motioned him to come. Jesus stayed where he sat. He wanted to be with Uri and to talk with him, but he could not forget what his father had said. And since he could not forget it, he could not ignore it either.
Finally, perhaps an hour after they had first seen each other, Uri rose to his feet and began coming up the hill. Jesus watched as the two sheep got to their feet and followed after Uri. Behind those two appeared the rest of the flock slowly walking up the hill in the wake of their small shepherd. Jesus studied them as they came. He would not have been surprised if he had seen Uri circle around behind them to drive them up the hill, but that did not happen. He walked ahead and all of them, without fail, followed him. As he drew nearer, Jesus could see that he often looked back and spoke to the sheep and each time he spoke, their efforts to keep up with him seemed to gain energy.
Arriving below the rock where Jesus sat, Uri looked up and said, “Why didn’t you come to me? Didn’t you know it was me?”
“Yes, I knew it was you.”
“Then why didn’t you come?”
“My father told me not to go past this spring.”
“Why did he say that? It is not more dangerous down there.”
“I don’t know why he said it, but that is what he said.”
Now that Uri was no longer leading them, the sheep went to grazing and a few went to the spring to drink.
“Why do your sheep follow you like that?” asked Jesus.
“Because I am their shepherd,” replied Uri.
“Don’t you have to get behind them and drive them where you want them to go?”
“No.”
“It looked like you just talk to them and they follow you.”
“They do. They know my voice.”
“You mean they wouldn’t do the same for someone else?”
“Of course not. They will follow my father’s voice, because they knew his voice before mine. But no one else’s.”
“Can I try?”
“Sure, but they won’t follow you.”
“You climb up here and let me try to lead them.”
The two boys changed places and Uri even gave Jesus his cloak and staff. Jesus approached the sheep very quietly and slowly but they withdrew from him as if afraid. He spoke to them in calm tones trying to coax them to follow him away from the rock but they did not show any interest at all, other than to keep a safe distance away.
“See?” cried Uri, leaping down from the rock. He spoke to the sheep and led them in the opposite direction. As one animal, they all fell in behind him and moved wherever he went. “My sheep hear my voice and they know me and they follow me,” said Uri.
Jesus sat down in the grass and laughed. “That’s amazing,” he said. Then he asked, “Why did you not come to me? I must have waited a whole hour before you got up and came this way.”
“That was the time of rest for the sheep.”
“Couldn’t you have brought them up here to rest?” asked Jesus.
“I have to do what’s best for them. My father taught me that once the flock lies down and starts chewing the cud, you do not disturb them for at least an hour or more. When you whistled, I had just got the flock bedded down. It’s not good for them to move them then.”
“So you obey your father just as I obey mine,” said Jesus.
“Well, in my case, it is not so much obeying my father as it is doing what is good for the sheep. I want to be a good shepherd.”
“What would a bad shepherd be like?”
“A bad shepherd does whatever he wants, even if it isn’t good for the sheep. But a good shepherd takes care of the sheep and doesn’t take care of his own interests, not even his own safety. If a lion or a bear attacks the flock, a really good shepherd will put himself in harm’s way to protect the sheep and won’t give up, no matter what.”
“What if the lion or bear kills the shepherd?” asked Jesus.
“That happens,” said Uri. “I had an uncle who was killed by a lion. He fought the lion and killed it to protect his sheep, but he died later from his injuries. He was a really good shepherd.”
“Wow. When was that?”
“That was before I was born, but people still talk about him. They call him Uriel the Lion Slayer. My grandfather still has the claws of the lion. I’ve seen them.”
After sitting in silence for several minutes, Jesus stirred. “Well, I’d better be heading back. How much longer will you stay out?”
“When the sun is about to touch that hill over there, I will start back. Supper is served right after dark.”
All the way back home, Jesus was imagining having a flock of sheep following him. He imagined having to defend them from a lion and how much he would want to run home to his father’s arms for his own safety. He wondered if he would have the courage to stand and fight to defend his helpless flock.
Arriving at his father’s house, he could still hear his mother’s cries and he wanted to run back to the quiet pasture where Uri was watching his sheep. The sun was getting low now and soon Uri would be talking to the sheep and leading them home. He hesitated, not willing to open the door to the terror inside. Suddenly he heard voices and footsteps rounding the corner of the shop. His heart leapt at the sight. It was Miriam escorted by her father, Shimei.
“Well, young man, we are finally coming. Are we too late?”
“I don’t think so, by the sound of it. But you are not too early either.”
“Well, nothing truer has ever been spoken.”
At that point Joseph swung the door open. “I thought I heard voices. Oh, Miriam, praise God you have come. Please, come right in. We are so glad you’re here.”
“Good evening, Joseph,” said Shimei. “My missus and I would be honored if you and Jesus, here, would come sup with us. This is surely no environment for men to be caught up in and there’s probably no one here with a moment to think of your hunger. You can even sleep at our place since there likely won’t be much sleeping going on here for a while.”
“Oh thank you, Shimei. You are too kind. Jesus and I can sleep over at my mother’s house, but a bite to eat would be quite welcome. Just let me make sure that mother can handle the twins now that your daughter is here to help Mary.”
Joseph had to feed the twins and it was full dark by the time they got away from the house and started toward Shimei’s house in the village. The two men walked shoulder to shoulder though the darkness and Jesus followed behind. In some of the really dark stretches he could hardly see the two men ahead of him. But as they talked with each other, he could certainly tell by their distinctive voices which one was his father, even when they switched sides as they stepped over a canal that the road crossed.
After supper he and his father climbed back toward their neighborhood under the incredible display of stars overhead. When they turned aside to go to Grandma’s house, Jesus spoke up, “Abba, will the scroll be safe in the shop tonight or should we go get it?”
“I’m sure it will be safe, but just in case, I can take it to the house when I go to check on your mother.”
“Abba, did you know that sheep can recognize the voice of their shepherd?”
“I did not know that.”
“Yes! Uri’s sheep follow him as he talks to them. I put on his cloak and took his staff and tried to get his sheep to follow me but they ran away from me because they don’t know my voice.”
“I didn’t think sheep were that smart.”
As they entered grandmother’s house, Jesus noticed that the whole house had the smell of his grandmother. And he could almost hear her voice in this house that had been her dwelling place for so long.
“Abba, could I please sleep up on the roof tonight?”
“On the roof? Don’t you want to sleep in Grandma’s bed?”
“No, I want to see the stars as I fall asleep.” He didn’t want to tell his father that he intended to stay up all night if necessary. He wanted to listen for God’s voice in the stillness of the night and he was afraid that in Grandma’s bed, he would only hear her voice in his head.
“Well that does sound nice, if we can get comfortable enough. Is there still a pallet up there?”
“I think so. And we can take blankets up there, can’t we?”
“I don’t know why not.”
Joseph settled down beside Jesus on the roof. The low wall kept the night breeze from blowing directly on them as long as they didn’t stand up. And grandmother’s house was just around the curve of the hill far enough so that the sound of Mary’s cries did not reach their ears. Joseph waited until he thought his son was sound asleep and then rose softly and tiptoed down the stairs to go and check on Mary and the rest of his family.
As soon as his father was out of the house, Jesus opened his eyes and gazed at the stars. He sat up against the wall and pulled the blankets up around his shoulders. For a long time he just sat and listened intently. Somewhere on the hills a jackal cried. A couple of dogs in the village responded by barking. Then it was very quiet.
Jesus was very alert and excited. He was sure that if he listened with all his heart and mind and strength, he would hear the very words of God. He waited in this expectant state until his tailbone began to ache and slumped back prone on the pallet, snuggled deep in the blankets. His nose and ears were cold but the rest of him was cozy. He found himself praying silently in his heart but his lips were moving much as Hannah did in the tabernacle when old Eli thought she was drunk. Maybe the Lord would answer his prayer as He had answered hers.
“Lord God Almighty, maker of all these stars, maker of me in my mother’s womb, I want to hear your voice. In days of old you spoke to Abraham and told him to count these stars. You spoke to Moses and told him to go to Pharaoh. You spoke to Samuel when he was just a boy like me and told him of the terrible judgment that was about to fall on old Eli. I really want to hear you speak to me. I’m listening as hard as I can, Lord. If you speak, I will listen. I don’t want to hear an angel speak in a dream, like you did with my father. If I hear an angel’s voice, I won’t learn to follow your voice. Just like a sheep knows his shepherd’s voice and just like I can tell my father’s voice from Shimei’s in the dark. I want to know your voice and hear it every day. Nevertheless, not my will but thine be done.”
He could not tell how long he lay awake and prayed in this manner. It seemed like he prayed for a long, long time. He prayed at least until he was tired of hearing his own voice in his head. Then he stopped and tried just listening for the voice of God again.
The next thing he knew there was a delicious warmth at his back. He snuggled into it and slept in a deep sense of security and the profound knowledge that he was not alone. Then the sound of dogs barking and roosters crowing coaxed him up to the world of consciousness and his eyes opened onto a world where the sun was about to come up over the hill. At first he couldn’t remember where he was and then he remembered that he was on the roof of his grandmother’s house. He turned and found that the source of that warmth and the sense of security was his father cuddled up against him on the very edge of the pallet.
His father was awake, propped up on one elbow and smiling down at him. He looked tired and happy and his eyes were all bloodshot. “Happy Birthday, Jesus,” he whispered, as if to keep it a secret.
“When did you come back, Abba?”
“Just a little while ago.”
“But it’s morning; were you gone all night?”
“Pretty much.”
“How’s mother?”
“She’s pretty wrung out, but now she is resting and happy. And she brought a baby sister into the world to honor your birthday.”
“Oh, that’s great! What will her name be?”
“Since she arrived on your birthday, we want to hear your ideas before we choose a name. How was your night up here on the roof.”
“It was good.”
“Did you sleep well? You seemed to fall asleep as soon as you lay down.”
“I wasn’t asleep when you left.”
“You weren’t?”
“No, I wanted to listen for God’s voice.”
“Ah, I see. And did you hear the voice of the Almighty?”
A slow smile spread across Jesus’ face and then he threw his arms around Joseph’s neck and hugged him with such an intensity that Joseph cried out in pain.
“Ouch! Easy, you’re hurting me!”
Jesus backed off a bit but took the sides of his father’s beard in both hands and trembled with joy and excitement.
“I take it you are trying to say, 'Yes?'” asked Joseph.
The boy’s face was radiant and his eyes were glistening with tears of joy. He could not speak but he nodded his head with enthusiasm.
“Wow, that’s great,” said Joseph. “So were you awake or asleep?”
“I – I – I don’t know,” stammered Jesus, finally finding his own voice.
“So am I allowed to ask what the Almighty said?” asked Joseph.
“He said, ‘You are my beloved son; this day I have begotten you.’”
“Wow,” whispered Joseph.
“And He said that I am to seek his voice all the days of my life and walk in the light of his words. His words will be a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.”
“Amen, so be it,” said Joseph. Then, with a big hug he whispered, “Happy seventh birthday, Son.”

Terry L Todd
Christmas, 2010