Under the benevolent rule of King Antipas through the next several years,
Joseph added two more construction crew to his teams, keeping the men busy on projects as far away as Judea and Syria. Because of
the need for more timber and stone, a second transport group was
organized and the teams turned over to Jonathan and David. Both of
the twin boys had grown up as competent youngsters, strong and
intelligent, obviously the broad faced sons of Joseph. Joshua
traveled more than ever before, absorbing more knowledge about the
people of his homeland, with their fears and hopes and joys and
sorrows. He was appalled at the gap between the poor people who
lived from hand to mouth and the extremely wealthy who made up the
merchant and the ruling classes. He came to appreciate the
generosity of Mary and Joseph to the needy Samaritans outcasts who
lived in enclaves to the southeast of Nazareth. Joshua continued
to study the scrolls of ancient wisdom but more often reading the
writings of the ancient Greeks and Persians now. Sometimes, he
traveled with David and sometimes with Jonathan, although the
younger twins bonded more closely to one another than with himself
or James. There was little or no friction but they simply were not
as close to their older brothers as to each other. Joshua
understood that because they were twins who had shared everything,
even the same visages when they peered into a polished silver
mirror. When the crews needed more building materials for their
growing number of projects, Joshua discovered he had to travel
further and further from home to purchase enough sound timber and
specialized stone for their projects. He soon recommended to
Joseph that the family buy its own forest land and a stone quarry
for their projects and sell their surplus at wholesale prices to
regional builders. James thought the idea premature. Joseph
compromised:
“Let’s make do as
we have done for another year or so -- and consider carefully all
the aspects of your idea. It does have merit: I see where you are
going with it, but let’s learn how long this building boom shall
last before we bite off such a huge chunk. We could buy land but
we can also consider leases of timber and stone sites. That would
cost more but it wouldn’t tie up so much of our capital.”
Joshua continued
to travel in search of the best materials, but he had settled
comfortably into the routines of life as he lived as an adult male
with most of his needs met by the house staff. The voice came to
him less often -- even as Mary begin dropping hints that she would
like to see him married and rearing a family of his own. She
wanted him to fulfill his calling by the Lord God. But as he
worked harder and became more involved in running the enterprise,
he heard the voice less often than before although he was still
active in the Greek Synagogue and continued studying the
parchments when traveling behind the plodding oxen. It wasn’t so
much that he had shut the Lord God out of his life, just that he
had had become content with his lot in life. He simply didn’t know
what God had called him to do that was more important than helping
families build homes in which to rear their families. Had he been
the son of a large landowner, he would have felt much the same way
about producing wagon loads of wheat and barley in order to feed
the hungry men and women of the large cities.
“Mama,” he
said when Mary once again asked what his life mission would be,
“you see how busy I am. Papa has me going at a trot for weeks at a
time. Sometimes for months, during the building season. What kind
of husband and father would a schedule like that make of me? Away
from home so much of the time. My children would forget who I was
-- would wonder who the strange man is that comes in to sleep with
their mother once in a while!” He grinned when she made a wry face
at him. “You know what I mean -- and you must admit that building
good homes at a fair price is an honorable endeavor. Like now,
here I am packed and ready to leave for Antioch for more timber
for Papa and James. I must do my part in our efforts to make a
living for the entire family and to serve others for a fair return
on our knowledge and labor. I don‘t even know how to make money --
I can only offer people a service and a product for which they, of
their own volition, trade money for what I offer them.” Mary
didn‘t agree with him but she had never been a nag. Joshua found
himself working harder and having less time to study the scrolls
and to discuss them with the rabbis from Greece.
The increased need for good timber was
why some time later, Joshua found himself pinned to the
railing of a storm-tossed cargo ship, feeling like a drowned
rat, halfway between Antioch and Caesarea Maritima. He was
responsible for the ten cedar logs -- whole tree trunks
actually from Lebanon, that were intended for the
family’s saw pit in Nazareth. They were sliding back
and forth as the ship rolled in heavy seas and should they
break loose, the ship could be lost in a stygian black night
illuminated only by flashes of brilliance, follow by the
rumbling crash of thunder.
The summer day had begun fair enough in Antioch, although
there was a stiff breeze sending more and more broken clouds
scudding north over The Great Sea. The small Egyptian ship
with stubby masts fore and aft, driven by triangular lateen
sails on long yardarms, was cast off from the dockside
bollards and drifted toward the breakwater at dawn, swept
along by the ebbing morning tide. When it drifted aimlessly
in the channel, moving slowly because of the south wind
against her bow, the pilot boat with half a dozen oarsmen,
threw a line to the forty ells long Osiris and towed her
into the open sea. She sat still except for rocking slowly
on the incoming waves. Captain Sakkara ordered the tow line
cast off, the sails raised and set his first tack away from
the coast. He would run toward the southwest for two hours
or so, steering away from the dangerous coastal rocks and
shoals that killed more ships than he cared to think about.
He had, he explained to Joshua and several other passengers
the night before, as the tree trunks were being loaded as
deck cargo by the light of pine knots in iron baskets, that
he normally allowed two days and a night for the run to
Caesarea on the southern shore of the Great Sea.
“I don’t know, with this stiff wind almost on my bow,
though. We shall probably be forced to tack all the way
to Maritima. Will your wagons be waiting for us? If they are
late, the Roman port captain charges late fees for each day
your cargo clutters his dock space.”
“With
the Lord’s help -- and with my diligent brother, they shall
be there when we arrive.”
The
captain had hauled cargo for enough Jews not to ask which
god this red headed Hebrew was calling on. Jews were all
touchy about worshipping the only true god. Personally, he
liked having a few extra deities on which he could call when
in trouble.
Joshua went
on, “They will be at the port on time -- my brothers are
responsible men.”
“Ah! You
keep it in the family. A wise choice -- providing your
sisters don’t marry landlubbers as mine did. They wrecked
two family coastal boats before we threw them out of the
business.”
The wind
picked up still more by noon and while it did slow the ship
by forcing Captain Sakkars to reduce the pressure on his
masts by furling some of the sails, the crew continued to
make headway by tacking a zigzag course at two hour
intervals, averaging along the southern coast at three or
four knots. They were not sure, for the water was too rough
to toss the log and count the knots on the log rope as they
slipped through a seaman’s hands. The waves increased in
size and frequency, striking the boat on the diagonal during
the tacks, lifting her bow and twisting it sideways as it
slipped over the crest, before dropping abruptly into the
troughs below. Each impact threw a sheet of spray into the
wind, which caught it and whipped it aft along the deck and
the cedar cargo. The small ship rode out the buffeting all
afternoon for she was stout and stiff enough to forge ahead
despite the rough seas. And while Joshua enjoyed sailing for
pleasure and understood the technique of sailing into the
wind, this pitching of an entire ship was something new to
him. He became seasick and emptied his stomach over the
side. He continued vomiting until there was nothing more to
lose and still he wretched painfully with the dry heaves.
Joshua decided that it wasn’t the pitching motion that
bothered him so but the nasty twist the Osiris took when
plunging her bow into the trough of each wave. It was that
final wrench that his stomach couldn’t handle. He spend more
time below, clutching a bunk and praying, than he’d planned
-- but around midnight, the captain, with a lantern in his
hand, aroused him and the other passengers.
“I need
everyone on deck. The cargo lashings are soaked from the
rain and the spray and are stretching so your logs are
shifting in their moorings. We must tighten the ropes or
roll your cargo overboard to keep them from working free and
smashing through the sides.”
“Are we in
danger of sinking?”
“Not yet,
but we will be in trouble if we cannot tighten up those
damned lashings. Your logs could batter us to pieces.”
“Will
lashing them end the sliding?“
“Aye -- and
but the work is dangerous, because the longs are slippery
from the spray they‘ve been getting all day. And now the
rain is ankle deep on the deck and running down into the
hold. I already have several men taking turns on the pumps.”
The wind
was shrieking through the rigging and the spars. The crew
and the passengers worked for several hours, as if galley
slaves, dodging the incoming waves crashing over the bow.
The men were soaked to the bone within minutes after coming
topside, clutching tree trunks in summer sandals, and soaked
robes while levering them high enough to lash more ropes
under and around them and binding them to bronze cargo
cleats. Ever so often one of the ten tree trunks would get
free and half a dozen men had to throw themselves against it
to protect the gunnels from being smashed and knocked into
the sea. They looped ropes around belaying pins along the
railing and frantically caught the log butts with lassos
made of braided rawhide. The man doing this had to place
himself between the log’s butt and the railing and leap out
of danger at the last moment to cast the loop, for as soon
as the deck pitched from the next wave, the log would slide
or roll erratically. Joshua, the youngest and most agile of
the group, took over one of the lassos to snare six of the
ten logs and then, with the sixth secured, the seventh took
an unexpected twist and rammed him in the buttocks at the
end of its slide. The blow stunned him and he was falling
over the rail toward the foaming sea, when Captain Sakkara,
an Egyptian with a pale yellow skin and slanted eyes,
snatched Joshua back before he vanished into the darkness.
The ship
continued to roll and pitch as a Syrian seaman took over
from Joshua and secured the last few logs. Captain Sakkars
was everywhere, lifting and cajoling and praying to several
strange Egyptian gods, leading the men to spend themselves
recklessly, often in the darkness as the wind kept blowing
the lanterns out. Then, they worked by light of the vivid
lightning flashes from horizon to horizon that left the
ship’s rigging glowing eerily with the static electricity
that would eventually be called St. Elmo’s fire. By dawn,
one seaman had broken an arm, a passenger had a slash on his
bicep and Joshua sported a large purple bruise above one
buttock. He found sitting down excruciatingly painful and
standing up in the rolling and rocking ship quite difficult.
Everyone was exhausted -- but they had saved the ship and
its cargo and not incidentally, their own lives.
The battered
Osiris with a dozen or so bruised and weary passengers and
crew men limped past the circular breakwater at Caesarea
Maritima a day late, with tattered rigging and ripped sails
from the un-seasonal storm that had swallowed several ships.
To the north, between Tyre and Siddon, people were burying
drowned sailors washed up along the coast. After Jonathan
had greeted Joshua warmly and hoisted the logs onto his
timber wagons and was waiting his brother to join him on the
trip home, the older brother found Captain Sakkars and
pressed an extra gold piece into his palm.
“What’s this for,
Joshua?”
“A well deserved
reward, Captain -- for doing an impossible job with much
grace under pressure. We really need that cedar you saved.
And my life also when I fell over the rail.”
“Well -- thanks.”
He grinned. “But it was my old arse too! And you worked like
a demented Spartan all night. Oh, how is your purple butt?”
“It’s not too bad
-- it only hurts when I sit or stand -- I‘m not looking
forward to the ride home, looking at the western end of a
pair of east bound oxen! Perhaps I can find a shop that
sells pillows. And yes, it was your life also but you could
have dumped my logs over the side and saved yourself a lot
of trouble. You do have insurance on the ship and cargo?”
“Of course, but
poor service is not our style.”
“Well -- I thank
you, Captain, and we shall use your services and your good
stiff ship again! Cedar has become a very popular timber for
summer homes.”
Roselaen Comes
Mary’s flowers
were blooming early in the warm sunshine and soft showers of
a Galilean spring and a group of her friends had gathered to
admire her handiwork. Several building seasons had passed as
the younger boys continued to grow more responsible and
productive in the business. Jonathan and David still
captained the two transportation teams while James and
Joshua were recognized across Galilee as superb master
carpenters. James took over more of the management from
Joseph -- who had always enjoyed most using his creativity
and boldness in designing projects. Joshua was handling the
negotiations with customers and the coordination of supplies
although the forest land and the stone quarry the family had
leased made his work easier and brought in more income from
sales to other builders. Joshua explained to his boisterous
younger brothers;
“Just
remember, Jon and Dave, you cannot make off with all the
benefits of a transaction. Both you and the supplier must be
satisfied with the results or the deal cannot be closed. Be
prepared to surrender something rather than make rigid
demands in a negotiation. Show a customer the advantages he
shall win by dealing with us -- but be prepared to accept
less than the ideal payment. Winning half a cheese is better
than losing the entire thing. Then, be prepared to make the
very best use of our time and supplies, in order to win our
profit. Waste not -- want not. Just remember to learn as
much as you can -- Papa isn’t going to be with us forever so
we must prepare ourselves to manage everything. I’ve decided
that to marry and settle into our work here is as fine a way
to serve our Lord God as going out field preaching. Building
homes for the people is a worthy task, and we must expand it
enough so we can make good livings with our skills as Papa
has for us. And while neither you nor Ruth and Judith are
thinking about marriage yet, neither was James when he was
your age. And look at him now -- married to Mariam and
already a father with a healthy two year old son. Actually,
our children will be the generation to follow up and take
over after we retire. Little Jacob has already arrived on
the scene! I calculate that each of us, when we become
adult, has about thirty years to do something good for
ourselves, for God and for humanity. And that includes
marriage and adding children to our clan as we each find a
mission that is pleasing to our Lord God.”
Jonathan
nodded, although he sometimes thought Josh too serious. “But
-- when are you going to marry -- and to whom? I never see
you with any one special girl.”
“That
doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about them -- I’ve yet to find
the right one but I shall. I plan on marrying someone as
charming, as pleasant and as gifted an artist as Mama.”
“So shall
I, Josh,” David added. “But not just yet.”
“Not just
yet!” Joshua agreed as he reached for the scroll he was
writing.
Mary had
organized their educations so her daughters, Judith and
Ruth, mastered the domestic activities that would serve them
well when they were responsible for families of their own.
And while she and Joseph had kept their eyes open for
possible matches for their children, they knew they would be
able to do well for them. With the business profitable and
the girls attractive, intelligent and healthy, suitors would
be available when the girls were ready for marriage. Some of
the neighboring boys regularly dropped by -- ostensibly to
visit Jonathan or David and then spent their time with
Mary’s articulate and talented daughters. When she couldn’t
persuade the traditionally minded Rabbi Ezra to accept the
girls as special students in the Greek Synagogue School, she
tutored them to read and write the three common tongues, to
play both flutes and lyres, to weave rugs and tapestries and
to paint with oils and pastels. It simply wouldn’t do, their
grandmother Judith told Mary, for their homes to remain
bereft of light and music or of tapestries and other works
of art when they were rearing their own families. On the
Sabbath and at evening prayers. Mary had them share the
reading of the sacred scrolls along with the boys.
David was
right, of course. Joshua had always spent some of his free
time with the friends of his sisters and their cousins. He
liked girls and found them interesting but he enjoyed them
more as companions and friends when going birding or herb
hunting rather than as potential mates. He joined in the
social activities the mothers of the congregation sponsored
for the boys and girls to become more comfortable with one
another in the synagogue. However, he never chose one
special girl, although there were enough opportunities set
before him by ambitious mothers who wanted their daughters
to marry well.
Then,
when Joshua was well into his twenties and Roselaen was
nineteen, his relationship with women, with her at least,
swept his plutonic relationships away. He and the Capernaum
Rose as her family called her, was swept off her feet for
the first time in her life in Mary’s flower garden.
Roselaen, who was visiting her cousin Mariam and her mother,
Aunt Sarah to Rose, had been invited to explore Mary’s
flower garden by Ruth and Judith. By coincidence, Mary’s
sister Sharon had come for a week or two of visiting from
Bethlehem. Roselaen, her mother and Mariam had walked to
Mary’s home from the cottage, James and Joshua had built for
the young couple. The women led Jacob, the young couple’s
rambunctious little boy in his terrible twos who had already
learned to defy his parents in three different languages.
Little Yako, named after his great grandfather, had found
the blooms so beautiful and so sweet scented that he, to
everyone’s amusement, was determined to taste them.
Roselaen, with the women gathered that morning was deeply
appreciative of the garden Mary had labored for years to
bring to perfection. When, early in their marriage Joseph
suggested Mary relegate the work to a gardener, she’d
refused -- opining that while a farm girl could be moved off
the land, a love of good soil and greening plants could
never be taken from her heart and soul. She adored her
multi-colored flower beds and spent many happy hours toiling
away in them -- almost intoxicated by their sweet scents and
gorgeous blooms, first working with James and then Joshua
and later with her younger sons and daughters.
The
medium sized, raven-haired Roselaen was kneeling a dozen
paces from the older women. She’d impulsively run ahead and
dropped to the earth to exclaim over a bed of snow white
Lilies of the Valley whose sweet scent had attracted her.
Roselaen, bowed as if in prayer, was the first thing Joshua
saw when he came around a corner of the house looking for
Mary. He’d recently returned home from a buying trip and
wanted to ask his mother about a misplaced basket of scrolls
he intended to take on his next journey. He pulled up short
-- when he caught sight of the golden hued girl caressing an
especially beautiful lily. She was talking animatedly,
sending soft cries of pleasure over her shoulder as Mary
beamed her appreciation.
Roselaen’s face glowed in the mid-morning sunshine. She
continued talking as she caressed the lily, her face a
balance of tenderness and determination. She looked stunning
to Joshua with two long black braids bound with a green
headband and a girl’s short yellow robe bound around her
slender waist. Joshua froze, the scrolls forgotten, convinced instantly she was the most fascinating woman he’d
ever seen. Mariam said something that amused the kneeling
girl and she laughed, the ringing of fine crystal struck by
a silver spoon, Joshua thought. Her lips parted in delight
and her ebony eyes danced merrily. She shifted to smile at
Mariam, settling back with her legs curled under her in a
feminine manner, before turning again to the flowers, as if
paying homage at the altar of their beauty.
Joshua remained frozen, too enchanted with her profile and
figure with curves in all the right places to move, seeing
nothing but this portrait of beauty framed by the roses. He
was perfectly quiet, admiring Roselaen, drinking in her
laughter and smiling at her charming banter -- the casual
conversation among women when free from the presence of
inhibiting men, discussed her love of beautiful things. He
realized instantly that he was seeing the girl as she really
was -- completely vulnerable, without any pretension in her
posture or her conversation.
She
hurried on, swiftly speaking Aramaic with a smattering of
Hebrew and Greek thrown in for emphasis -- making sense of
her topic as she discussed the advantages of certain flowers
in a well designed flower garden. She remained seated in the
middle of Mary’s floral masterpiece, discussing flower
gardens, emboldened by Mariam and Sarah, with whom she could
lay aside the burden of her beauty and the wariness she
suffered when men pursued her. She put a hand against the
earth to keep her balance and caught a glimpse of Joshua
from the corner of her eye. She twisted to see him and was
caught like a bird in a snare -- all her defenses down, her
soul tender and accepting from her love of flowers. His
brilliant blue eyes seemed to be peering into her very soul
-- seeing through her youthful yearnings. Their eyes
remained locked with neither able to break the connection.
Six, eight, ten heartbeats -- a dozen heartbeats passed in
complete silence and then, Roselaen wrenched her gaze toward
Mary, abruptly chattering nervously about something in the
garden. But even as she spoke, her gaze flickered back and
forth between Joshua and his mother.
Joshua remained mute, off balance mentally and spiritually.
He feared this dark haired vision of loveliness would think
him rude for staring so intently -- might even flee his
boldness -- but he was unable to tear his eyes away, to
offer a polite greeting, or turn toward his mother. Roselaen
scrambled to her feet, absently brushing the loose earth
from her robe, more subdued now that she had been caught off
guard by yet another admirer. It seemed to her that men
often materialized out of nowhere, as if by black magic,
interfering with her gardening and spinning, trying to talk
to her when she wanted to play kick the ball with her
sisters. Her desire for marriage had already been shaken by
the tension and anxiety she felt when her parents quarreled.
She gave her suitors little encouragement and it became
annoying at times. Then, to her amazement, she turned
inexorably, completely around to face him, moving forward
without realizing that her fascination was carrying her
toward this man, drawn by the charismatic ability to reach
her that seemed to emanate from him. She felt weak in her
knees and her breath became erratic.
Although they’d never met, she knew instantly who he was --
had already formed a mental image of him through Mariam’s
descriptions of her red headed brother in law. She
immediately recognized the inadequacy of her cousin’s praise
as she’d spoken of this man, even though Mariam had said he
was the kindest person she’d ever known. A man of honor and
grace that some whispered came straight and true in King
David’s line on both sides of his family. She made a final
lingering appraisal, waved a weak gesture for help from
Mariam, before scurrying away to seek protection among the
women. She couldn’t help herself; she shuddered as if an
earth tremor had shifted the core of her soul, leaving her
weakened in fear -- not of him but from the powerful
emotions sweeping through her.
Joshua felt giddy, something momentous was occurring -- a
connection had been forged -- as it had after he’d been
awakened by God when he was a boy -- or when he understood
in Herod’s Temple that he was called to serve lost and
lonely souls who were like sheep lost without a shepherd.
Time stopped it’s relentless flow around him -- the very
Cosmos was watching and waiting breathlessly for him to act.
All of the meaningful aspects of life were coming together
-- some great episode with the Lord God was unfolding here
and now. The divine voice that had been silent for months
once more whispered in his mind -- the still, small voice,
that came often in his youth, that spoke to him less
frequently now, came once more.
This is my choice for you, my only begotten son -- this
is your beloved bride for time and eternity, a helpmeet and
a joy for your fruitful years.
Joshua felt high and lifted up, at the shining center of the
Cosmos, at the summit of God’s grace, where the physical,
emotional and spiritual elements of life come together, when
the woven strands of faith, hope and love lift one into the
spirit realm of the Almighty. He’d walked and talked with
God and now knew that so long as he was faithful to the Lord
and this priceless princess, his life would never become
banal and meaningless. He would remain empowered so long as
he loved and served the master builder of the Cosmos and
shared that love with her.
Joshua came out of his revere and found himself standing
before the women, although he didn’t remember moving toward
them. He had eyes only for Roselaen.
“I’m Joshua, son of Mary and Joseph.” He didn’t even
hesitate. “When shall we marry?”
Every
woman in the flower garden, except for the glowing girl, was
speechless. This was she knew as he spoke, the only possible
conclusion to their meeting. She lowered her eyes modestly
and stepped forward to lay a gentle palm against his cheek.
She then looked directly into those love-filled eyes, as if
they had been betrothed since childhood. “Joshua!” She spoke
his name almost reverently. “A name worthy of a prince of
the House of Israel. I have been waiting for you all my
life. Of course I shall be your bride - whenever we can
arrange to wed.”
He
said, when his mind stopped reeling, “we must do this well
-- must honor our Lord God with our love.” Then Joshua
stopped in confusion, all his boldness spent, before
stammering. “I - I - I don’t even know your name!”
“I am called Roselaen -- from Capernaum. My family calls me The Capernaum Rose and my
friends call me Rosie.”
“I
have never heard so appropriate a name,” he said softly.
She
blushed modestly, took his hand and kissed him softly on the
lips. “My beloved -- Joshua!”
He
embraced her and gently touched her raven black hair.
