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      THE HEART OF MARYLIFE AND TIMES OF THE HOLY FAMILY CHAPTER
          I:
                   4DEATH OF CLEOPHAS AND JOSEPH
 THE THOUGHT OF CHRIST
            
               When he returned to Nazareth,
          what really happened to the Child was that he was born again. The Son of God
          who became man and was dying to grow up and never saw the day when he would sit
          among adults, finally got into our skin. God is above and we are below, and the
          whole dilemma of Humanity passes through a bridge over shifting sands. How to
          know God's thought? How to discover his plan of eternal salvation?
                   Now it was a man who was
          asking all the questions that all men were asking and none of them were
          answering. Now it was Christ who raised his eyes upward and looked God face to
          face seeking to know his thought. Now it was the son of Man who recognized his
          ignorance and looked to God for wisdom.
                   But you are twelve years old.
          And you have a lifetime ahead of you. And every day you wake up with a Cross.
          And every year that passes, that Cross weighs more heavily on you. And whether
          you want it or not, the weight will sink you more than once.
                   You can
          do everything and you are forbidding to do anything, you see the world
          around you living in hell and you can do nothing even though you have the power
          to do everything. You can save the Present and condemn the Future, or let the
          Present live its Destiny and save your Freedom for when the prisoner gets out
          of jail. You will wait for him on the other side of the door to guide him to a
          New Day of freedom that will never end. Until that Day the world will have to
          follow its path, and until your Hour arrives you will have to sink many times
          in deep depressions, and you will have no one to support you, there will be no
          one by your side with whom to share your destiny, no one will give you a hand,
          no one will reach out to you because no one will be with you to know what is
          happening to you and why you are sinking until you drown.
                   You are Jesus of Nazareth, a
          young and rich man, you have everything a man desires and you take only what
          you want. You don't need anything from anyone. Doors open for you wherever you
          go; you are treated as a lord and your word is worth gold to those who do
          business with you. No one knows your secret; only a woman. Her husband died
          when you were about twenty years old, and so did Cleophas. Only they are left,
          your Mother and her sister Johanna; only they know who you are. But
          none of them know where you are going, or what your plans are. You are alone.
          When the storms rage over your mind you will have no one to embrace you and
          fight the storm together. If you do not go mad it will be only because you are
          who you are, but even if you are who you are you will have to suffer the storm
          in the open, without roof or shelter against the water that will fall in
          torrents under a sky covered with darkness over your mortal body. The sweeter
          the life you lead, the more bitter is what you will do.
                   To the starving man hard bread
          tastes like glory, but if you give that same bread to the bun-eater it will
          break his teeth. Yours, Jesus, are accustomed to eat the best bread.
          Your body is accustomed to the finest garments. And you are going to lead an
          army of men to the same fate. Won't you sink? Won't their ghosts attack you in
          your dreams? Won't you wake up in the deserts on your knees begging for mercy?
          Won't the visions of their bodies crushed by the beasts of the Roman circuses
          torment you while you look to Heaven asking for the end of the sentence against
          Eve and her children? How long will each year that you live last for you? Won't
          the twenty years that await you be an eternity for you? They people you will
          lead to the slaughter house are before your eyes. They are all pure.
          One by one they are all innocent. Their only crime is to love you above all
          things. They love you more than time, more than immortality, more than all the
          treasures of the universe. You are their life. And they are there, hanging from
          their crosses, actors in a bloody spectacle, ode to a madness, singing in honor of the tears that for them you, Jesus, shed in
          the desert, when you mysteriously disappeared and returned without telling
          anyone where you came from or what you had been doing.. Will you not
          suffer in your flesh the crime of your hundreds of thousands of little
          brothers, whom you will lead to the cross with no crime for which they will be
          found guilty? Loving you will be their crime. Will you not implore mercy from
          your Father? Will you not seek another viable alternative? And yet the Cup
          is full and you must drink it to the last drop. A Hope sustains you,
          but to no one can you tell it, with no one can you share the infinite joy in
          which your whole being rejoices as you look towards the One who sits at the
          Judgment Seat and as you see Him, contemplate, you look at yourself.
                    
               JESUS CHRIST
            
               We do not know at what point
          in life we cross the boundary between childhood and adolescence; nor at what
          point we have ceased to be young and become adults. There seems to be no
          general rule; it is something that each one discovers for himself and lives in
          his own way.
                   This being so among us, how
          much more complex is it to apply our psychology to someone like the Jesus of
          the Gospels!
                   Having adopted the position of
          seeing him as he saw himself, having experienced to the degree that our
          understanding allows us what was going on in his head, let us move on. There
          are still many areas closed to the intelligence of past centuries, and which,
          subjected to the fantasy of those who wished to break into his inmost being,
          have come down to us deformed like paintings vitiated by the passions of the
          copyists.
                   If at some point I have let my
          own passions run free, the reader, as a free being, owes himself the
          opportunity to recreate the historical line starting from the characteristics
          of his own intelligence. The author can only point to the horizon and paint
          what he sees with his eyes, and although the configuration of the eye is the
          same for everyone, the way of seeing things acquires a personal and
          non-transferable form. It is from this platform of personal vision and
          individual understanding that the author recreates the things
          he writes; the reader will have to adapt them to his own way of
          laughing, crying, hating, loving, understanding and even ignoring.
                   Let us then return with Jesus
          to his parents' house in Nazareth, and from what he discovered, knowing now
          what he had just discovered, the Cross of Christ, his Cross, let us try to open
          the horizon of his memories to the pure reflections of reality as he and his
          own lived it.
                   The Child who went down to
          Jerusalem was in all aspects, seen from the eyes of an outsider, a gentleman.
          His cousin James for example. James was a couple of years older than his cousin
          Jesus, and yet while the latter had not yet picked up a hammer and did not know
          what it was to hammer a nail, James of Cleophas was already an axe, the boy in
          his role of carpenter's apprentice. As the father of that tall and
          super-intelligent boy, Joseph had to put up with more than one criticism of his
          way of educating his only son. He was spoiling him, he was told.
                   We are not going to talk about
          envy or bring to the scene passions that we all wish we had never known. What
          is certain is that the mentality of small towns has always been a hotbed for
          the most conspicuous and boring ignorance.
                   Criticism of Joseph for the
          way he raised his firstborn said nothing to Mary and could not be taken any
          further than that because the Child was who he was. That Child they criticized
          was the heir of Jacob's daughter. A large part of all that the Nazarenes saw
          around them belonged to "little lord Jesus". If his parents did not
          want him to touch the nails and hammers, who was anyone to reproach them?
                   What is certain is that upon
          returning from Jerusalem, that Child broke the script of the "little
          lord" that was supposed to be his and attached himself to his father with
          the obedience and diligence of the good and dynamic boy that every father
          desires for his son.
                   Mary watched him finish the
          day. In his life his son had never lifted a board, and suddenly he never
          stopped asking for work. It was enough that his father opened his mouth to obey
          him. Even Joseph himself looked at him and said: "What is the matter with
          you, my son?”
                   But not only in the carpentry
          shop. If Aunt Johanna needed a job to be done, her sister's son was there for
          whatever was needed. If it was necessary to go to the fields to pick almonds or
          to reap the wheat, her nephew Jesus was there first at dawn. He never
          complained, never answered, never gave you a "no". But neither to his
          own people nor to anyone who asked him for a favor.
          How could he not be loved!
                   It was as if he didn't want to
          think, as if he needed to forget something. He needed to give himself up to
          physical activity. His arms ached and his tendons trembled with fatigue, but he
          never said no nor gave up. He got up first and went to bed last. He no longer
          played with the village children. He didn't even speak except when asked. The
          change was so sudden, so colossal, so surprising that
          his Mother would sit on the edge of her bed while her Child slept,
          wondering what was going on in that head. Before, her Child talked to her, told
          her all her things. Since their return from Jerusalem, her Child was a different
          person, he was like a stranger to her. For everyone he was what he should have
          been, an obedient and quiet boy who never took away the word of his elders or
          answered you when you scolded him for whatever it was. But for Mother Mary, her
          Boy was becoming a stranger.
                   “He is becoming a man” they
          told her. That wasn't enough for Her. She knew that whatever was happening to her
          Child it could not be explained by human experience. Hadn't she experienced the
          sinking of her Child in Alexandria? For those who saw him sitting at the door
          of the Jew's carpentry shop, the Child's sadness could be explained by some
          whim that his father denied him and forbade him to ask for it again. Just like
          that? No way! She knew that her Son did not function like other
          children.
                   On that occasion, back in
          Alexandria, Mary found a way to make her way into her Child's heart. But this
          time it was totally impossible for her. The only thing she could do was to lie
          down beside her and fall asleep guarding her dreams, because whatever she was
          going through, this time her Child would never open the door to her mind, nor
          would she be able to find her way to her heart.
                   It was not that she was sad or
          that she carried such great sorrow that the very idea of sharing it seemed
          impossible to the Child. She knew it was something deeper; so deep that even
          looking into his eyes her gaze was lost in the field of Jesus' eyes without
          ever reaching the horizon behind which her Son hid his thought.
                   "What is the matter with
          you, my son?" she asked herself, knowing that her Child would never give
          her the answer.
                    
               THE DEATH OF CLEOPHAS
            
               Cleophas, the father of James
          the Just and his brothers, was blessed. If it is true that before death the
          human being relives the years lived in this world, the last moments of Mary's
          brother were happy.
                   The only sorrow that could
          have darkened his luminous memories, the death of his father shortly after his
          birth, even this sorrow could not cloud his last moments. His sister Mary
          transformed that physical absence into an angelic presence always watching over
          her child.
                   Now that he was one step away
          from crossing the threshold of death, Cleophas could recall with a smile the
          way his older sister had mitigated the absence of his father by transforming
          him into her own guardian angel. How could he have doubted his sister Mary's
          innocence the day his mother told him of the Annunciation?
                   He was the first man in the
          world to know the Mystery of the Incarnation, and the first to believe with his
          eyes closed in the Virgin who would conceive the Messiah King. It was his
          mother who took him alone and told him in every word. "Son, pass this,
          this and this, and I want you to do this, this and this"
                   Cleophas forgot his wife and
          his two little children, saddled his horse, the mare for his sister, and,
          without giving more explanation than was necessary to his brother-in-law, led
          the way to Our Lady through Samaria.
                   Holy God, how beautiful he
          looked, cherub on his fiery horse with the eagle's gaze scanning the horizon,
          sword ready and sharp to trace around his Sister the circle that the
          unknown Roman soldier traced around the great king of Asia. "If you
          trespass the line you declare war on Rome, if you turn away, go in
          peace. If you want war, you shall have it."
                   His brother-in-law gave him
          for company two of his dogs, Deneb and Kochab.
          Those last specimens of his race seemed to have been infected by the tension of
          the young human brother; Deneb advanced opening the way, Kochab guarding the rear.
                   The Virgin would have gone
          down alone to Judea with no other protection than the trust placed in the Lord
          by her angel Gabriel. But so beautiful was her Cleophas covering her with the
          mantle of his absolute faith in her innocence.
                   Some
          time before
            the state of grace in which the Carpenter's wife found herself was discovered
            in Nazareth, a state of grace on the lips of all the neighbors,
            a young man arrived in Nazareth from Judea, from Jerusalem itself, looking for
            Joseph. He brought a message from Zechariah. Its contents left Joseph
            dumbfounded and thoughtful. "Elizabeth was with child.
                     When his mother-in-law soon
          decided to send Mary to Elizabeth, to help her in the last months of John's
          pregnancy, Joseph saw it as natural. But what he no longer saw as logical was
          that it was Cleophas who went ahead of him and accompanied Mary to the south.
          Now, on his deathbed, Cleophas fondly remembered the look of surprise on his
          brother-in-law's face when he heard him speak to him, a boy in his eyes, words
          of a whole man.
                   "Say no more. All
          conversation is at an end. My mother disposes, her daughter obeys, and I, her
          son, comply. Until your wedding day your betrothed is subject to my mother's
          authority. There is nothing more to talk about, Joseph. When we return, we will
          see each other's faces”. Joseph stared at him with the eyes of one who
          discovers the man in the boy and is delighted that it is so, because that's the
          way things should be.
                   Zechariah and Elizabeth had
          retired to their country home in the mountains of Judah, far from Jerusalem. It
          had been some time since the son of Abijah had retired from the official
          position he had held throughout his life in the bureaucratic hierarchy of the
          Temple. And he had not done so until a few months before from the Temple
          itself, because as the priesthood was for life and he had no children, his turn
          obliged him until death or until an illness prevented him from doing so.
                   Healthy and long-lived at a time
          when the average life of a man was barely over fifty, Zechariah, although he
          could have put his father's shift at the disposal of the Temple, preferred to
          remain in his sacred post until death or illness forced him to retire. And this
          is just what happened. Because when he became mute he could no longer
          maintain that position of immovability that created so many enemies.
                   The administration of the
          treasury of the Temple corresponded to the priestly families, owners of the
          twenty-four turns of worship. The president of this board of directors was the
          high priest, who in turn was chosen from among those twenty-four families. As a
          rule, the chair passed from father to son. But once in a while what
          happened to Zechariah happened.
                   Zechariah had no sons to whom
          he could give his chair. The natural thing in this case was to put at the
          disposal of the council of the saints the Turn and to choose a successor from
          among the families. As it will be understood, there could be no lack of those
          who would put on the table the money needed to buy this vacant position.
                   Unnaturally and unnecessarily,
          Zacharias made many enemies by refusing outright to sell his Turn. No one could
          force him to make his father's turn available to the Council. And he did not.
                   No one ever knew what the
          angel said to Zechariah, but the consequences of that Annunciation were
          miraculous for his enemies. Mute, the son of Abijah had to place his turn at
          the disposal of the Council, sign his resignation and retire from the Office.
                   Zechariah retired to the villa
          that he and his Wife had in the mountains of Judah. It was a country house, far
          from the world and its hustle and bustle, to which only Simeon the Younger, the
          only one of the Saga of the Forerunners who was still alive, had access.
          Outside of Simeon the Younger, they received no visitors. The reason?
                   Well, the cause was the
          miracle that the parents of John the Baptist were living in their flesh.
                   On his deathbed Cleophas remembered
          the wonder he experienced the day he met his "grandparents".
          Zechariah was bouncing off the walls, and if it had not been for Elizabeth's
          snow-white hair, no one could have sworn that the woman was past sixty.
          Zachariah didn't speak, but he didn't stop moving. Only one other couple in the
          history of the world had experienced such a miracle, Abraham and
          Sarah of course.
                   From the porch of his
          grandparents' country house, Cleophas remembered himself looking at the horizon
          and saying to himself, “What's the matter, Joseph, what's taking you so long?”.
          How can we recreate the joy of that boy when he saw Joseph appear in the
          valley, trotting at a gallop across the plain! Didn't tears come to his eyes
          when he saw that giant kneeling at the feet of his Sister asking her
          forgiveness for having doubted her innocence?
                   The day Joseph announced that
          he was taking Mary and Jesus away from Herod, Cleophas looked him in the eye as
          if to say to another: “And you thought I was going to stay behind while you
          take my Sister to nobody knows where”.
                   From the first time he saw him
          Cleophas liked Joseph. And they were never separated.
                   Father of a large family that
          seemed not to end, Cleophas never criticized Joseph behavior.
          If his son Santiago was breaking his fists against the corners of the planks
          while his nephew Jesus was going around to walk hills, this was something that
          Cleophas saw with the eyes of the one who after all was before the Lord.
          Himself, of all the children of Nazareth, Cleophas was the little prince who
          neither worked nor needed to help the family. His sister Johanna was enough on
          her own to manage the fields; his sister Mary ran the most profitable
          dressmaking shop in the area. From time to
          time, grandmother Elizabeth came up from Jerusalem laden with gifts.
          Was she going to forget the child of the house?
                   What was his mission in this
          life - to live life!
                   His nephew Jesus reminded him
          so much of himself that Cleophas laughed when he saw Joseph struggling so much
          when he had to defend his Jesus in front of his friends and neighbors.
                   He, too, was taken by surprise
          and amazed by the sudden change in his nephew's appearance on his return from
          Jerusalem. And just like his sister, he could not explain what was going on in
          his nephew's mind. The only one who seemed to understand the Child was Joseph.
                   Joseph was the only one who
          seemed not to be surprised. He was the only one who seemed to know perfectly
          well what was happening to him, and, like the Child himself, he followed his
          policy of not saying a word to anyone. With his Mother and with his
          uncle Cleophas, Jesus felt uncomfortable because he read in their eyes what
          they were thinking. With Joseph, on the other hand, the Child was at ease. He
          was the only one who did not look at him with questions in his eyes and the
          only one who knew how to handle him in such a way that Jesus forgot his
          problems and became the active, intelligent and hard-working boy that
          everyone praised his parents for.
                   Yes, of course, Cleophas lived
          a wonderful life before he met Joseph. But that giant nomad on the back of his
          Iberian horse wandering through the provinces of the kingdom, his three
          Assyrian cherubs taken from a lost fresco of some palace in Nineveh, that nomad
          gave his life what it was missing, the image of the father, the brother he
          never had. And now, on his deathbed, he would be for his sons and daughters the
          father they would be missing.
                   Yes, if it is true that before
          dying the mind goes through the years lived, one by one, Cleophas relived
          unique, wonderful years. The Virgin for a sister, the Messiah king for a
          nephew, a Cherub for a brother-in-law, a wonderful woman who had given him sons
          and daughters, all healthy, all strong.
                   -Joseph..., he began, saying
          on his dead bed.
                   -Brother, Joseph stepped
          forward. Your sons are my sons, your daughters are my daughters. Of us all you
          are at this moment the blessed one. Our father David awaits his prince Cleophas
          in the bosom of that light that will be kindled when you close your eyes. There
          we shall meet, brother. Come and shake my hand when it is my turn to close
          mine.
                   And so it was.
          Cleophas died young, like his father Jacob.
                   -Just like our father, Joanna,
          in the prime of life. How we will miss you, brother, cried the Virgin.
                   They buried him in Nazareth,
          in the tomb of his father Jacob, next to his grandfather Matthan, over the
          remains of Abiud, son of Zerubbabel, son of Solomon, son of David.
                    
               THE DEATH OF JOSEPH
            
           The life of Joseph the
          Carpenter extinguished its flame shortly after that of Cleophas was consumed.
                   If the existence of Cleophas
          was beautiful and worth living, that of Joseph the Carpenter was that of the
          warrior always on the edge of the precipice, muscles constantly in tension,
          nerves sharpened to the last atom, always vigilant, always ready to engage the
          next twist of fate.
                   "There is nothing
          predetermined, who knows what tomorrow will bring? When the book of life turns
          the page you will see what it contains. And let each day suffice for
          its eagerness."
                   "The lot of the
          children of the Spirit is to respond swiftly to the sound of the trumpet
          calling to action".
                   "Death always attacks
          from behind, but he who turns his face to him removes from his hand that ace
          called the surprise factor"
                   Proverbs of this nature were the
          daily bread of Joseph the Carpenter. Zechariah, the future father of the
          Baptist, his preceptor, tutor, mentor, teacher, all the good in one, dedicated
          his talent, his genius, his wisdom, his art, all the best he had to form the
          mind of young Joseph. Thanks to his patience and dedication the fearless
          warrior that ran in young Jose's blood learned to look Death in the face, and,
          with the gleam in his eyes of the hero who knows he is invincible, even to Hell
          itself.
                   But what he never articulated
          his mind for was to be caught in the nets of God himself.
                   Also their conception of
          the birth of the son of David was the classic one, dad, mom, they marry, they unite,
          two different persons and only one thing, the call of the blood, the power of
          the flesh. To imagine that God was going to get in the middle of the
          Incarnation of his Son by means of? Well, no, not really; what
          happened afterwards was never imagined.
                   Looking back, reliving those
          days, Joseph the Carpenter laughed heartily.
                   This time the warrior had
          reached the other side of the battlefield. Around his deathbed his nephews and
          his people mourned the farewell of the cherub who had never lowered his vigilance,
          the death of the hero who never shed his helmet and armor.
          He was about to give up his soul.
                   Everyone thought that his
          strength had reached its twilight, that his breath was fading in the distances
          between Heaven and Earth, when Joseph the Carpenter came out of his sleep. He
          was awakened by the memory of his answer to his Master Zechariah on the day
          Elizabeth communicated to them the news of the Vow of the Virgin.
                   "God's will be done. A
          thousand years my people have been waiting for this day, I may as well wait
          ten", said Joseph.
                   God, what an unexpected turn
          you gave to the life of your servant!
                   Young Joseph grew up dreaming
          of the day he would see the birth of his wife the Messiah king, the owner of
          the sword of kings, the legitimate bearer of the two messianic scrolls.
                   His brothers and sisters did
          not understand why their Joseph did not marry at the age that everyone was
          accustomed to. Life was short. Existence, very hard. At this point in history,
          no one could afford to let the years go by in the style of the Patriarchs, who
          married from the age of forty onwards. Many were already grandfathers at the
          age of forty. What was the chief of the clan of the carpenters of Bethlehem
          waiting for to choose a wife and honor them
          all with fresh blood?
                   Joseph the Carpenter was
          silent. He answered his brothers with the silence of one who seemed, unlike
          other mortals taken from clay, to have been formed from iron.
                   Far be it from his breast
          to harbor a heart of stone, but you left
          him, holy God, no choice but to adopt that attitude for the good of all, for if
          the slightest news of the Davidic plot that was being hatched behind his back
          had reached the ears of Herod's hired assassins, how long would it have taken
          that serpent to order the death of all the brothers of your servant?
                   Joseph the Carpenter came out
          of his sleep reliving that unforgettable day, the day he went to the house of
          his mother-in-law to ask for explanations about the rumor that
          had scandalized everyone in Nazareth.
                   What was going on?
           What was reaching her ears?
           The neighbors were
          dropping tremendous hints.
                   "What will you call the
          child, Mr. Joseph? Because it will be a boy"
                   The Carpenter finally felt the
          pinch, stopped contemplating and went straight to talk to his
          mother-in-law.
                   The Widow, who was expecting
          the visit, went and opened the door.
                   The Virgin’s mother had been
          preparing for this encounter.
                   She had feared it. She had
          longed for it. She dreamed of him, sighed for him, trembled thinking of him.
                   Would she be up to the task,
          would the grace of her daughter's innocence have rubbed off on her, his mother?
                   As a mother she was all ready
          to gouge out the eyes of anyone who uttered the word adultery. Her son-in-law
          Joseph was a saint, a most good man, but what male would not be
          scandalized to hear that his female was in a state of grace by the work of the
          holy spirit?
                   With her heart in her fist the
          Widow opened the door to her son-in-law.
                   "Sit down, my son"
          she said to him. "This is a great day for all the families of the earth”.
                   What a way to save the gap!
           The Carpenter sat down. He did
          not open his mouth. Nor would he have needed to. His look said it all.
                   Man, maybe a thousand images
          are worth less than a word of God, and an image is worth more than a thousand
          words of man. In the situation at hand, the mother of the Virgin facing the man
          who was directly affected by the Incarnation of the Son of God, neither words
          nor images seemed sufficient to that mother trapped in the nets of a God who
          asks no one for permission to enter into the lives of the creatures
          He creates from clay.
                   Looks were enough. The looks
          said it all.
                   The Widow knew what her
          son-in-law was coming for, and her son-in-law knew that she knew what he had come
          for. The question was who was going to break the ice.
                   The Virgin's mother, inspired
          by the infinite love she had for her daughter, on the one hand, and by the
          wisdom of the Holy Spirit himself, on the other, broke out:
                   "My son, do you believe
          that Yahweh is God?" she blurted out to her son-in-law without giving him
          time to say this mouth is mine. Such an entrance, she knew, was the last thing
          her Joseph could have expected.
                   The Carpenter didn't even
          flinch. A man of ice would have moved more nerves than the Carpenter at that
          moment.
                   Well, he already knew his
          mother-in-law, he knew what stamp she had put on that woman's soul. Zechariah
          educated him, Joseph; but his mother-in-law Anna was formed with her own hands
          by Elizabeth, his Master's wife. So if what the Widow of
          Jacob of Nazareth was doing was defending her daughter Mary, and she was
          certainly doing so, the mother of the Virgin was starting well. It was to be
          seen what would become of all this philosophy.
                   The Virgin's mother, without
          losing her cool or feeling disarmed by her son-in-law's stony seriousness,
          continued:
                   "Forgive me, man of God,
          for entering you through this door, but events demand it of me. I mean, do you
          think anything is impossible for God?". Then she stared at his son-in-law
          as if at that moment the mystery of God's eyes had been revealed to her and
          allowed her to read Joseph the Carpenter's thoughts.
                   Another individual would have
          felt that look as intimidation. The Carpenter held it without moving
          a muscle.
                   Although he had not yet
          grasped what his mother-in-law was getting at, Joseph remained seated calmly.
          He had come for a single word, a Yes or a No. And he wasn't going to leave the
          house without that Yes or that No. Was his wife in a state of grace? That was
          all he wanted to know.
                   The mother of the Virgin was
          playing with an advantage, she knew that her son-in-law Joseph would not move
          from the chair until she gave him the Yes or No.
                   The truth, the whole truth and
          only the truth, was a Yes, a marvelous Yes,
          a divine Yes, an eternal, infinite Yes, an unmitigated, indescribable,
          inexplicable Yes.
                   It was also a No, a total No,
          a No without concessions, without discussions of any kind, a profound,
          non-negotiable No, the Life of the Messiah in one hand, the Death of the Son of
          David in the other hand.
                   What would you choose, friend,
          would you choose mockery, would you laugh at God to His face, would you deny
          God His power to perform this extraordinary, supernatural Work?
                   Friend, all is nothing when
          all is little. But if the creature were to refuse the knowledge of his Creator
          and subject it to his level of natural intelligence, the extraordinary work
          would be to pull such a donkey out of the well of fools.
                   The dice --for grace blows
          with the wind-- are still waiting for the next move. It is the turn of every
          man and woman to exhale his or her answer. To affirm oneself in the Yes or in
          the No.
                   If you had everything good in
          one hand and everything bad in the other, which one would you choose?
                   Joseph the Carpenter once held
          the dice of the fortune of the Son of Mary in his hand. Never in the History of
          the Universe had any man gone through a similar or similar situation. His
          decision would change the future of the world. His Yes or No would raise or
          sink the whole Plan of Universal Salvation of his Creator.
                   From his lips, however, the
          mother of the Virgin could only expect words of wisdom. With this strength and
          courage befitting a daughter of Eve the mother of the Virgin went on with her
          revelation
                   "Let us see, man of God.
          Imagine that the Lord challenges you to put Him to the test. Yes, just as it
          sounds. Imagine that our Lord offers you the opportunity to be challenged by
          you to prove to yourself that He is God for real, not just in word and because
          He can do a few more tricks than Pharaoh's magicians. Let’s say it, it is not
          enough for you to believe that He is God, you want, you need to see it with
          your eyes. You want to see His Almighty Power at work, you want to see Him
          overcoming the most difficult, greatest test you can think of.
                   “Man of God, I know that your
          faith is stronger than the rock, that without seeing you are content and enough
          with the Word that travels from mouth to mouth through the firmament of the
          centuries to believe in the Truthfulness of our Lord. However, grant yourself
          this opportunity. Answer me without prejudice. Tell me, by what test would you
          commit God to employ Himself to the utmost? What test would you put to God that
          would be worthy of His Almighty Power and would oblige Him to put all His
          Omniscience on the table? Son, do not hold back, do not leave your tongue stuck
          to the sky of your heart for fear of finding the words. Dare, challenge your
          Creator, because you deserve it, for so much suffering, for so much pain and so
          much cruelty that our fathers have suffered. What were we, son, before the
          Spirit of God hovered over the waters of our seas? Animals without
          intelligence. Then one day we were loved by our Creator and He gave
          us the gift of speech. Now then, do not deny it to yourself, speak, lift
          up your head to the Almighty, lay your soul at his feet, ask him to do an
          extraordinary, unique, unrepeatable, marvelous work,
          the measure of his Great Spirit, to quench your thirst for knowledge and your
          hunger for wisdom. He is for you. Ask yourself what test you would put to your
          Creator, one and no more, holy Isaac; but one that will fill your soul with
          infinite happiness and your being with eternal joy. Come, do not be shy”. And
          the mother of the Virgin fell silent.
                   Strange as it may seem to you,
          Joseph the Carpenter continued in amazement. He came looking for the answer to
          something as simple as the truth about the rumored state
          of grace in which his wife seemed to be, and his mother-in-law came out with a
          full-fledged theological discussion.
                   Joseph stared at her trying to
          guess what was going on. Was it a Yes or was it a No?
                   His mother-in-law took
          advantage of the confusion to take her Revelation a step further.
                   "Son, answer me" she
          begged him. “Do not lie to me or be silent for fear of offending the Lord. Tell
          me the Truth, would you dare to challenge your God, or would you shrink back
          and not open your mouth for fear of offending your Creator?"
                   Without granting herself
          respite the Widow breathed. At once she returned to the battlefield.
                   "Man of God, I know I am
          surprising you; but grant me these minutes of your life. Again I ask
          you, what would you put God to the test? Or let's put it this way: What would be
          the greatest test for a God that could ever occur to a man? For example, you
          want Him to prove to you once and for all that He is truly God, that He has not
          claimed for Himself the glory of being Uncreated Being in vain. Do you want Him
          to erase all the stars from the sky? Do you want the sun to never set? Do you
          want donkeys to fly? Do you want whales to walk? I don't know, what do you
          want? Anybody can become an emperor. Midas have been many and many
          will be. Don't ask God for things that a man can do. You are going to challenge
          Him with an extraordinary, superior work, you are going to put before Him a job
          that not even Hercules in the fullness of his glory would have been able to do.
          Do I explain myself? ... You see, what worries me is that knowing the nature of
          men, are you sure that once the stars are erased from the sky, you will not
          look for a natural explanation for such a divine phenomenon? Are you sure that
          men will not turn a frozen sun in the dome of the firmament and find a natural
          cause that fits in your heads?”
                   Having sent the ball to
          another's roof the Widow of Jacob of Nazareth fell silent. Joseph the Carpenter
          did not enter into the game.
                   I would say that anyone who
          saw him sitting in front of his mother-in-law at the time would have sworn that
          the man of God had ice instead of blood in his veins.
                   Joseph the Carpenter did not
          move an eyebrow. With his gaze frozen on his mother-in-law he looked more like
          a stone statue than a creature of flesh and blood.
                   The Widow held his gaze. She
          knew for a fact that her son-in-law was not going to say a word. Inspired by
          the great love she had for her daughter, the Widow acted as if
          Joseph’s silence was a recognition of the value of the idea on the table.
                   Joseph, who was beginning to
          marvel at the direction the conversation was taking, and broke his silence with
          these first words:
                   "You tell me, Mother, why
          should I deny my Creator the glory of His Arm?". And he embraced
          silence again.
                   The mother of the Virgin took
          the definitive step. The moment had come.
                   “Son, I am not man”. She had
          taken the step forward, yes, but in the direction that had suited her. “I don't
          know how you men think”, she insisted, “I was created from a rib of my man. And
          I know that what to a man may be the greatest test in the Universe, it may not
          be so in the eyes of a woman. The only thing I wonder is this: in the eyes of a
          woman, can God be put to a greater test than conceiving without the
          intervention of the man? I mean, not in the manner of those sons of God who
          slept with the daughters of men and had offspring. You know that among the
          Greeks, the Romans and the barbarians their gods slept with their
          wives and bore them heroes, the last one being Alexander the Great himself. No,
          son, I am talking about something else. That a Virgin should give birth to a
          Child without knowing a man".
                   Now Joseph the Carpenter
          really opened his eyes wide. What was his mother-in-law insinuating? Where was
          she taking him with this metaphysical detour? Was she wrapping
          the Yes he came for in a kind of theological knot that was impossible
          to untie? So mind-boggling was the subject that Joseph remained unmoved.
                   “Son, do you think such a test
          would exceed the limits of Divine Power?”
                   The Widow continued attacking
          without giving his son-in-law time to prepare a counterattack strategy.
                   Anyway, her son-in-law spoke
          at last.
                   “No. Never”. He said all
          serious.
                   And immediately he returned to
          his role of son-in-law in a state of hallucination with the twists and turns
          his mother-in-law was giving to the simple and short answer he came looking
          for: Yes or No. It seemed to be Yes, but it was No.
                   It looked like Yes, but as was
          No, it seemed to be Yes.
                   Apparently the Yes was being
          sugar-coated so that the pill of events would not be too bitter to swallow. But
          the idea with which his mother-in-law was challenging him seemed so fantastic
          that his body refused to leave without first listening with his ears to the
          conclusion of the argument that was being fabricated.
                   “I expected nothing less from
          you, my son”, interrupted his train of thought that mother who was ready to
          defend her daughter tooth and nail. “Now let's take another step forward. The
          Lord takes up your challenge. The Lord is going to give you the proof for which
          your bones sigh: He is going to make a Virgin conceive a son by the work and
          grace of His Uncreated, Divine Power. Do you remember, son, the prophecy? I
          know I do:
                   -Isaiah the prophet said to
          King Ahaz, “Ask the LORD your God for a sign in the depths of Sheol or on high.
                   -And Ahaz said to him, “I will
          not ask him; I do not want to tempt the LORD.”
                   -Then Isaiah said to him,
          “Hear now, O house of David, is it a small thing for you to trouble men, that
          you also trouble my God? Therefore the Lord himself will give you a
          sign: Behold, the virgin with child is with child, and she shall call his name
          Emmanuel”.
                   The Widow stopped her speech
          and looked into Joseph's soul.
                   The Carpenter still could not
          believe his ears. Was she telling him that the Sign had taken place? Had the
          Widow gone mad, or did she want to drive him mad?
                   As if reading his mind, the
          Widow reopened the subject.
                   “Son, you say to yourself: to
          the point, woman. And I ask you not to be impatient. We are not talking about a
          trivial matter, the glory of the Eternal God is at stake. Grant
          yourself patience. If by running too fast the athlete does not see the signs
          and skips them and reaches the finish line by an unmarked road, although he
          would have won anyway if he had run on the official track, will the jury give
          him the crown of laurels? Would they? Look, son, we have the Eternal God on the
          move, looking for the Woman, the Virgin in whose womb his Sign will take shape.
          I ask you, on which blessed one will God rest his Arm? On which unique and
          special woman among all the daughters of David will the Most
          High spread the mantle of his Glory? To which one will He love as the
          unique and adored spouse is loved? You will tell me that the Most High Himself
          will beget her and predestine her from the womb of her parents to be
          that Mother. Or does He not go ahead of the one who asks by begetting him
          to make this request? The Omniscience of the Lord is that which moves every
          soul that breathes in His presence. Is not His Spirit the source that inspires
          every word that reaches His ear? Of course it is, son. He opens the
          mouth of the one who asks: May a Virgin give birth without the intervention of
          a man! The Lord smiles. He opens his mouth and says: Behold, I am going to hallucinate
          you all by doing a work that will be remembered forever: The son of Eve will be
          born of that Virgin”
                   Mary’s Mother fell silent. She
          looked straight in the eyes of the souls of Joseph, and said:
                   “The Birth is already on, son.
          Tell me now, from among all women which woman will the Most High choose to be
          that blessed Virgin?”
                   For a moment Joseph the
          Carpenter thought he had heard all he had come looking for, but the idea his
          mother-in-law was putting on the table was so mind-boggling that he remained
          motionless.
                   What was the Widow telling
          him, that his Fiancée was in a state of grace by the work and grace of the Holy
          Spirit?
                   The Virgin’s mother did not
          give him time to ponder too much.
                   “Put yourself on the case,
          son. God announces what will be the Sign in which He will demonstrate the Glory
          of His Son before all creation. From the womb of His parents He forms
          the couple who will carry in their arms the Child born of the Virgin. But now a
          problem must be overcome, a final obstacle must be overcome. Yes, my son, the
          pride of the male. Will you let the pride of the male blind your
          intelligence?”.
                   Joseph finally understood his
          mother-in-law’s argument.
                   “Are you telling me, mother,
          that it has happened?”.
                   “Don’t jump to conclusions, my
          son. Let me recapitulate the road we have traveled so
          far. Better, let us contemplate it from another angle. What did the Prophet say
          later, speaking about the Child born of the Virgin? : To us a Child is
          born, to us a Son is born, who has on His shoulders the Sovereignty, and He
          will be called Prince of Peace, Wonderful Counselor,
          Mighty God, Everlasting Father”.
                   “What has been born, do you
          say, mother?”. He interrupted her. For the first time Joseph the Carpenter
          moved, showing exhaustion of patience. The Virgin’s mother resumed her attack
          before she lost her prey.
                   “Do not let the pride of the
          male blind your intelligence, son. For if God does not deceive or lie,
          and He  fulfills all His
          promises, what shall we say? That the prophets of Israel were all liars and
          impostors? That in order to glorify themselves they wrote the Holy Scriptures
          with no other purpose than to recite poetry? You tell me. I await
          your answer”.
                   Joseph the Carpenter followed
          the thread. He thought that seen in this light the Widow was absolutely
          right. Either Abraham’s people were a nation of impostors with an infinite
          capacity to deceive themselves or, certainly, the Child not having been born,
          there had to be a Nativity. So far so good. What was already sticking in his
          throat was the conclusion that his wife's mother was putting in front of him.
          She was telling him that the Virgin was his Mary. She had not yet told him in
          these words, but it was clear that this whole speech had this final statement
          at last.
                   Clever as she was, inspired by
          faith, her mother-in-law cut off her thought. One would say that she was more
          than inspired she was divine. She was reading his thoughts faster than he was
          reading them to himself. Taking advantage of this, the mother of the Virgin
          came in full force.
                   “My daughter, your wife, is
          the Chosen One to conceive in her womb the Child who was to be born of that
          Virgin of whom the Prophet spoke to us. You, Joseph, are the Man”.
                   For a fleeting moment Joseph
          was about to stand up and close that unforgettable conversation with a “that's
          enough”. But he remained seated. His mother-in-law continued.
                   “Before you, son, God has
          opened two doors. These two doors will remain open before the generations that
          will follow us when you and I will be a memory in the heart of the centuries.
          One is that of faith, the other is that of unbelief. If you choose the latter,
          you will act like the one who challenged his God and upon discovering that the
          Virgin chosen to demonstrate His glory was his own wife, he rebelled against
          the One whom he himself challenged. But I know that you will not do that. My
          son, of the immaculate innocence of my daughter I am her witness before all.
          Her angel will lead you out of the darkness of the doubt that overwhelms you.
          Son, my heart tells me that you will choose the Door of Faith. And that you
          will run in search of the Mother of the Messiah for whom our people
          have been waiting for so many millennia”.
                   Inexplicably, on his deathbed,
          Joseph the Carpenter smiled. Is there a more beautiful death than that of God's
          creature who says goodbye to this world with a smile on his lips?
                   Well, by now all his nephews
          and nieces and his people thought that at any moment Joseph would close his
          eyes forever when Joseph sat up and begged them all to go out and leave him
          alone with his wife and son. Gone, the three of them alone, Joseph breathed and
          began to speak.
                   “Woman, my mouth has remained
          sealed to this day for reasons which you yourself will understand at the end of
          the things which nothing now prevents me from bringing to your knowledge and
          that of your Son.
                   “Son, what shall I say to my
          Lord? my soul is before my God. I am going to meet my Judge,
          before whom I will have to render an account of my life. But there is
          something you must know before I leave this world.
                   “Your Mother has already
          spoken to you of her great-great-grandfathers, Elizabeth and Zechariah, whom
          you did not know and to whom your Mother and I owe so much. Be
          patient with me in this last hour and remember my words on your Day.
                   “Where shall
          I begin, how shall I open the door for you to the knowledge of the
          men and women who laid their lives at the feet of their God so that your Light
          might dawn upon the darkness? If I have never made known to you the facts that
          I now unveil to you, it was with your good in mind. Do not blame me for having
          kept you out of the history of those men and women who lived their days on the
          razor's edge, their heads hanging by a thread all the days of their lives so
          that your Coming would be fulfilled. You will know, son, what you must do when
          your Eternal Father pronounces your Day open”.
                   CHAPTER TWO“I AM THE ALPHA AND THE OMEGA”5The Saga of the Restorers
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