Are You Not Joseph's Son? By Cedric Marc Klein (c) 1994        "Heal him, Joshua," demands Mother, "You just can't let Joseph die."  But what else can you do?  Another layer of darkness.  That shroud has thickened every day for eight years, since you, at age twelve, confounded the scholars in the Temple and suddenly realized why you were there.  When you read the Holy Books,  When you hear your parents whisper in the night,  And when you dream- about before your strange birth, and after your cruel death-  They all say the same thing.  They call you "Son of David",              "Son of Man",              "Son of God",  Even worse, you almost hear them call you "God".  And you still can't keep your father from dying.  Isaiah called you "Man of Sorrows".  Only recently have you known why.  You've been happy- the eldest of eight children, good education, thriving construction business.  Yes, there was gossip about your birth six months after the marriage, the death threats in Bethlehem, the childhood in Egypt, but no problems since coming back to Nazareth.  Until Joseph collapsed in the workshop last month- his heart now weak, his limbs almost useless.  You all keep business going, help Mother care for him, but she expects more of you.  You're the Messiah, the Savior; save him!  Are you not Joseph's son?  No, she doesn't torment you with these demands.  You do.  His last day.  You must talk with him- reveal secrets, end doubts.  "It's nearly over.  Isn't it, Son?"  "Yes.  Mother thinks I can stop it, but-"  Joseph shakes his head, "I know, you can't.  But Mary won't give up, on God or Man, until she can bring them both together.  She got that from you.  She forgets, or denies, your limits."    "My limits.  Should I even have limits?  Knowing my- mission, the events at my birth, I need you to tell me about before the birth.  You two have been hiding something," you force a smile, "and not that I was born six months into the marriage."  "No, she was already three months along with you when she told me.  She had just re- turned from Jerusalem after helping Elizabeth when cousin John was born.  Already starting to show."  "You two had never-?"  "No."  "Then who?"  "That's what I wanted to know!  Understand, I didn't believe her angel story, but I wouldn't believe she'd cheat on me.  I convinced myself she had been forced, lost her senses. Much as I loved her, I couldn't handle that.  I was about to quietly break it off, when I was also visited, and told that you're the Son-"  "Of God?"  "Yes!"  "Instead of Joshua ben-Joseph, my name should be Joshua ben-Yahweh?"   Joseph bolts from the bed, shocked at your casual use of the Name, until you smile.  "You... knew already?"  "It almost seems like I always have, but I had to hear it from you."  "But all those years I pretended..."  "I know my Father.  I know Abba Yahweh chose a man He regarded worthy to share that name.  Shalom, Abba Joseph."  You help him back into bed.  "Shalom, Son, till next time, in Your Kingdom."  "And not much longer from now, but I will miss you till then."  You go to get the family.  Mother's right at the door.  She has listened to it all.  She embraces you and goes to spend some time alone with him.  The rest gradually join her so that he can depart in the love of his wife, his children, and his firstborn, the Messiah.  Hours later, only you and Mother are still awake.  "Joshua, I'm sorry.  I wouldn't admit you couldn't help him."  "Don't apologize, Mother.  I didn't want to admit it myself.  But why should Messiah be spared the ordeal of helplessly watching a loved one suffer and die?  That you had to go through it only made it worse."  "And why should Messiah's mother be spared?  Simeon had warned me long ago.  As everything rallies against you, as you cast down and raise up multitudes, my soul shall be rent to reveal the very secrets of their hearts.  So don't think you'll be suffering anything alone."  She smiles wearily.  "All generations will call you blessed, Mother, and no wonder."  "Only because blessed is the fruit of my womb," she mutters, drifting to her first peaceful sleep in weeks.  You know why both your fathers adore this woman, and you suspect they are also intimi- dated by her.   ***