Passover Journey from Anna's Point of View

Going to Jerusalem for Passover was our most exciting holiday of each year. All the members of families travelled together in groups, and camped together and shared meals. And when we got to Jerusalem, we met up with other family members and friends from far away places that we hadn't seen for a year. We so looked forward to going.

When we arrived, the women tended to go off to the markets and buy the supplies that they hadn't been able to access in their little villages. And of course, it was the opportunity for a good gossip
too, finding out what had happened and who was marrying who, which children had been born and who had died. All sorts of information was exchanged. The men tended to stay together too, and discussed politics or how their work had gone over the year. The youngsters played together and just enjoyed the change from routine.

But this year, Jesus, my only grandson, was a bit different from the other children. He had reached the grand old age of 12, and soon would go through his Bar Mitzvah, when young boys are given a task of reading passages from the Scriptures at the Synagogue, and being expected to answer questions to show how well they know and understand what they have been taught. Jesus was a good student - and really there was no doubt he would excel in the tasks he would be set. But lately he had seemed quiet and rather moody, keeping himself away from his usual play friends. And when we got to Jerusalem, he went to the Temple to observe the various rituals, and to get into conversation with the many elders who were congregated there. We were proud of him, but
also a little bit worried that he should be trying so hard to be a man when he was only just an elderly boy.

When our week had finished, we reluctantly packed our bags and set off down the road for Nazareth - a good three day journey. Everyone knew at what time and in what place we would reassemble for the return journey. Because we had come in a group, we went back in the same large group, but various family members travelled with their cousins or brothers, in order to have a last minute chance of "quality time."

So we were nearly at the end of our journey before we became worried. Mary and Joseph had of course realised that Jesus wasn't eating meals with them, or sleeping in their tent, but they assumed that he would have gone with Zechariah, Elizabeth and John. He loved quizzing
Zechariah and trying to catch him out on bits of the scriptures. But after the third day and he hadn't reappeared, they began to get worried. Joseph went from group to group asking if anyone had seen
him, and the answer was always "No." Mary was getting frantic. She said. "He must have been left behind. I should have checked he was there. He won't have had anything to eat or any place
to stay. He might have been kidnapped. He might have got lost. He might be ill. He will be so worried when he realises he is all alone." There was no stopping her speculation as to his sorry end. We of course, Mary and Joseph, Joachim and I. had to turn around and go back.

All along the return route, we stopped each group we met, to ask if they had seen Jesus, and always the answer was the same. They had seen him at the Temple during the week, but not since then. Mary and Joseph prayed and prayed. They felt so guilty at having not checked to see if he was with them earlier. He was very mature and sometimes they forgot he was only 12.

Eventually we re-entered Jerusalem - and now we started looking in the ditches and questioning at the hospitals. Still no sign of him. Then we reached the middle of Jerusalem, at the place that we had last seen him - the Temple. And as we looked up the steps, there he was, chatting and deeply engrossed in conversation with various of the elders. He didn't even see us he was so involved. "Jesus. Where have you been?" asked his mother. "Your father and I have been searching for you, sorrowing for days."

He looked up and frowned, not quite sure what the problem was. "But surely," he said, slowly, "You must have realised that I must be about my Father's business."

Mary blushed, and looked sort of embarrassed. How easy it is to forget that this is no ordinary 12 year old boy, but the Messiah in waiting. She felt she had made a mistake in questioning him, and was about to apologise.

But I just couldn't help myself. Somebody had to say it. "Jesus," I said. "I don't care how important you think you are. You have not spared a thought for your family for these last days. Did it not
occur to you even once that we might be worried? I think your behaviour is very selfish. You could have told your parents before they left that you wanted to stay on, and you should have asked their
permission. I think your attitude in this whole matter needs some looking into."

I think he was surprised at what I said, but managed to look a little shamefaced. "I am sorry Grandmother. I didn't wish anyone to worry about me. I just didn't think you would be."

"You're right, you didn't think. You were so worried about fulfilling your destiny that you didn't stop to think of those who have given their whole lives so that you might have a chance to do just that. Not now, but in the fullness of time - when you are ready for the responsibility that you will be taking on. Not as a 12 year old boy."

Jesus replied, "I will come with you now, and I will try to be an obedient son until it is my time. I am sorry for the trouble I have caused."

We accepted his apology and were so pleased that he was well and happy that we were a very cheerful group retracing our steps to Nazareth, this time in just our own family grouping.

You might judge me harshly, and think I have overstepped my mark. But I believe that masses of mothers and grandmothers in time to come will be pleased that I had the courage to let this divine child know that he had human obligations to fulfil as well.