by Woods, Karen
The men were silent for a time as her words sank in.
The first man sighed. “That could very well be true.”
“Anyway,” Miriam dismissed, “it will be a long time until that child is old enough to begin to lead Yisra’el. There is no sense in speculating about it. Things happen in Avinu Malkeinu’s good time. Nothing we might say would hurry Him along. We are His servants, not His master, after all. When Sh’mu’el spoke, he did not say, ‘Listen, Adonai, your master speaks’, but ‘Speak, Adonai, your servant listens’.”
“Yosef, your wife is wise and devout,” one of the men said. “As well as beautiful. You are a lucky man, my friend.”
“Blessed beyond all words,” Yosef agreed.
Miriam excused herself to go check on Yehoshua.
Her sister-in-law followed her into the side room, closing the door behind her.
“Sister,” Halphai’s Miriam said, keeping her voice low, “we haven’t talked about this child’s birth. I’ve been afraid to raise the issues with you. But I need you to know, I am honored and humbled to have been there, to have witnessed his birth. Anything Halphai and I can do for you, please never hesitate to ask.”
“I don’t need anything, my dear sister. But I thank you for the offer.”
“Remember it,” Halphai’s Miriam said. “It will stand as long as I live.”
“I shall.”
Yosef’s sister-in-law walked over to the cradle where the child slept. “He really is a beautiful child. When he looks at me, I feel incredible peace, as though I know HaShem is near and taking care of everything.”
Miriam felt herself smile. “I know what you mean. I’ve felt that way since the day he was conceived.”
“I remember what that midwife, Salome, said after she examined you,” Halphai’s wife said, hesitancy in her voice. “How did this come about, Sister?”
Miriam told her sister-in-law the entire story. “But you have to keep this to yourself. It would not be a good thing if this became common knowledge at this point in his life.”
Halphai’s wife just looked at her for the longest time. Then she walked back over to the sleeping baby and looked at him. Returning to stand next to her sister-in-law, Halphai’s Miriam said in the low voice she’d been using for the entire conversation, “I understand that. I will do what I can do to protect him and to see he has whatever he needs. I can speak for Halphai and my sons as well on this. On this, you have my word.”
“I appreciate that, Sister. We’re going to do the best we can do to simply raise him as a child of the Covenant. Beyond that, we can do nothing except to leave him in the hands of Avinu Malkeinu.”
Halphai’s Miriam nodded. “Sometimes, I think that being a parent is the hardest thing anyone ever does.”
Miriam, the mother of Yeshoshua, nodded. “I can see that. Imagine how Avinu Malkeinu feels looking at all of us.”
The other Miriam sighed and shook her head. “I’ve never thought about Him like that, as a Father, in spite of the title you often use when speaking of Him. But it is worth thinking about.”
“No title we give Him can approach describing Him. People call him everything from ‘Adir’” Strong one, “to ‘Tzur Yisra’el’” the Rock of Israel, “and yet nothing we call Him begins to describe Him. I don’t think we’re capable of even wrapping our minds around the truth about Him. We just see the barest of glimmers, the things He has deigned to show us of Himself. And even that small measure is hard to understand. All we can do is to love Him, to live as best we can as His children. The title Avinu Malkeinu means the most to me, as it tells me He is both Father and King to us. More than just a formal Father, distant and authoritative, I tend to think of Him as Abba,” Daddy.
The other Miriam nodded. “Moshe was only told that His name was Ehyeh asher Ehyeh,” I am who I am. “I sometimes wonder that He chose to reveal that much of Himself to us.”
Yehoshua stirred in his sleep. Miriam’s attention went immediately to her child. “He shows us more of Himself every day.”
Her sister-in-law looked at the child, then at her. Halphai’s Miriam nodded. “Yes, I can see that.”
Chapter Ten
On the fortieth day from the birth of her son, Miriam paid a night time visit to the pool of living water that served as the mikveh, the place of ritual cleansing, for the men and women of Bethlehem. Her sister-in-law and husband’s cousin, Sarah, accompanied her and stood watch while Miriam immersed herself while saying the customary blessing for purification following childbirth.
“It will be good to go home,” Halphai’s Miriam said as the three of them walked back to Sarah’s home, after Miriam, the mother of Yehoshua, had dried and dressed. “Not that we haven’t enjoyed being with you, Sarah,” she quickly added.
Sarah laughed. “And not that I haven’t enjoyed having you with me, Miriam. But I understand about wanting to go to one’s own home.”
Miriam, the mother of Yehoshua, said, “The men have another few days’ work, Yosef says. We’ll be walking into Yerushalayim tomorrow morning to redeem Yehoshua in the Temple and for me to make my Thanksgiving offering after childbirth. So, we’ll be here another few days.”
“This is the longest you’ve ever been away from that baby of yours. Are you missing him?” Sarah asked.
“He’ll likely want milk when I return. I know my breasts feel full.”
“Babies at his age suckle, sleep, and poop,” Sarah dismissed. “But, your son is a good natured baby. My youngest cried all the time. You’re so lucky to have a good natured child.”
“Avinu Malkeinu has been good to me,” Miriam replied.
They walked on, speaking of inconsequential things.
The next morning, after Yosef had made his own trip to the mikveh in preparation for visiting the Temple, they went on foot to Yerushalayim, just the three of them.
Before entering the Temple, Miriam bought a pair of young pigeons, which was the appointed sacrifice for her own thanksgiving after childbirth. Yosef already had the five shekels, five silver coins amounting to two ounces of pure silver, which was the appointed amount of money for the redemption of a woman’s firstborn son.
Miriam left Yehoshua with Yosef and went to take care of her own offering. She stood there, in the women’s court, looking through the open doorway into the altar, watching the pigeons be sacrificed to the Lord and the blood sprinkled around the altar. Then she returned to Yosef who was standing with her kinsman, Zechariah.
“You look well, Miriam,” Zechariah said, smiling. “And this boy of yours is quite healthy looking.”
“How are Elisheva and Yoni?” she asked.
“They were well when I left them to come up for my temple duty. I will tell her you asked after them, when I see them next,” he said. “Shall we now do for this young man what must be done?”
Yosef nodded. “That’s why we came.”
Zechariah motioned to a group of men standing nearby who came over to witness the ceremony of pidyon ha-ben, the redemption of the first born.
“Is this child the firstborn of his mother?” Zechariah asked Yosef the first question of the ritual.
“He is.”
“Why have you come here today?” Zechariah asked, again a formality.
“I have come to redeem him as I have been commanded in Torah,” Yosef answered.
“Which would you rather have, the child or the five silver sheckels which you must pay for his redemption?” Zechariah asked, again a formality.
“I will have the child,” Yosef replied, handing Zechariah the purse containing the five silver coins.
Zechariah opened the purse and dumped the five silver coins into his right hand. He held his right hand containing the coins over Yehoshua’s head saying, “The redemption price is received and accepted in the place of this child.”
Yosef recited the pidyon ha-ben blessing, “Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha’olam, asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav, ve’tzivanu al pidyon ha-ben” Blessed are You, L
ord our God, King of the Universe, Who sanctified us with His commands, and instructed us regarding the redemption of a son.
Everyone answered “Amein”.
Then Yosef prayed the Shehhecheyanu, “Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech ha’olam, Shehhecheyanu vekiyamanu vehigiyanu lazman hazeh” Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe, Who has kept us alive, sustained us, and brought us to this season.
Again, everyone answered “Amein”.
Zechariah handed the coins to another Levite, a cousin of his named Daniel, then raised his hands in blessing, the palms toward the child, the thumbs of Zechariah’s hands touching at the tip, and the four fingers on each hand split into two sets of two fingers each, making his hands resemble the Hebrew letter Shin, an emblem for one of the names of God.
No matter how many times she saw a Levite raise his hands in blessing, it still amazed Miriam that not only could someone hold his hands like that, but that the gesture could be achieved so fluidly. She looked at the floor, as she had been taught to do out of respect for God.
Zechariah pronounced the priestly blessing God had commanded Aaron and all Levites to use to bless the children of Yisrael, “Yevarekhekha Adonai veyishmerkha; ye’er Adonai panav eleykha vichunneka; yisa Adonai panav eleykha veyasem lekha shalom” The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make His face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.
One of the men handed Zechariah a cup of wine which Zechariah blessed with the same kiddush prayer men always used to bless wine. He sipped from the cup, then passed it to Yosef who drank, and who passed it to Miriam. The empty cup went back to the man who had handed it to Zechariah.
After the minyan had disbursed, Zechariah said lowly to both of them, “Be careful, Miriam, Yosef. Magi from the East have come to Yerushalayim seeking the one who has been born our King. I saw them myself last evening as they rode into town on their fine horses and with their cavalrymen. It was a large group, well over a thousand men, most of them armed. But then, it would have to be a large group to travel safely all the distance they’ve come. It will not be long until this comes to the attention of Herod, if it has not already done so. I cannot believe Herod hasn’t already been told. With the strange tales carried throughout the area not long ago by shepherds, people are agitated. It will take some time for Herod’s men, even those of the Levites and scribes who are among his court, to sort through the prophecies in order to have someplace to begin to look for the child. Go home to Natsarat as soon as you can do so, for the safety of the child. Herod will not look that far north for the child.”
Miriam nodded. “And if they don’t find the prophecy, they might come after your Yoni. Be careful.”
“That is a real possibility. We did raise a few eyebrows with the birth of our son,” Zechariah acknowledged, in a tone that said clearly this was not a new thought to him. “I will trust my son’s safety into the hands of HaShem. He, in a lesser way than your son, is a child of prophecy, destined to be great in Yisra’el.”
Another priest came over to them, and the subject was immediately dropped. Zechariah excused himself, wished them safe journey, and left to go tend to another matter.
Walking through the court of the women, Simeon, an old man whom she knew well came up to them.
“Miriam?” he asked.
“Yes, Simeon.”
“May I hold your child?”
Miriam smiled at him and gave the child over to him. “His name is Yehoshua.”
“Blessed be the Lord our God, for He has visited and redeemed His people!” Simeon said.
Miriam looked at the old man, then at Yosef.
Simeon continued, “Adonai, let Your servant depart in peace, according to Your promise, for my eyes have seen Your salvation which You have prepared before the face of all people: a Light to enlighten the Goyim, and the glory of Your people, Yisra’el.”
Miriam could see Yosef was taken aback by Simeon. That was a normal enough reaction for one who didn’t know of Simeon’s vision.
Simeon continued, “May Adonai bless you, young Miriam. You always were special to Him. And now you are the mother of the Moshiach. And you, Yosef, how blessed you are to be this child’s father. May Adonai grant you both peace, courage, and strength, for you will need them. Behold, this child is set for the fall and the rising of many in Yisra’el; and for a sign which shall be spoken against; (yes, Miriam, a sword will pierce your own soul also); that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.”
Simeon kissed Yehoshua on the forehead and handed him back to his mother. Then he left them.
“What was all that about?” Yosef asked. “It sounded like he was asking the Holy One to let him die. But what does that have to do with the boy?”
“Simeon had a vision that told him he would live until he saw the Mosiach,” Miriam said lowly as she walked quickly towards the nearest exit of the Temple.
“Oh,” Yosef answered in an equally small voice. “Well, he didn’t say anything we didn’t already know.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Anna coming quickly towards her, and knew she couldn’t avoid speaking to the old prophetess who had always been so kind to her.
“Let me see that boy!” Anna said as she closed on them. “Praise and glory be to Elohei Sara, Elohei Rivka, Elohei Leah ve Elohei Rakhel!” to the God of Sarah, the God of Rebecca, the God of Leah and the God of Rachel. “This child shall truly be the redemption of Yisra’el. May Kadosh Yisra’el richly bless you!”
A few minutes later, they were out on the streets of Yerushalayim, walking as quickly as possible without drawing undue attention to themselves.
Neither of them spoke to the other until they were well out of town.
Miriam sighed. “We need to be back in Natsarat as soon as possible.”
“I have two more days of work, then we can go home.”
“Do you think it’s safe?”
“Even Herod won’t move that quickly.”
“Seems a terrible risk.”
“I won’t get paid until the job is done. The five shekels I paid Zechariah to redeem Yehoshua was the last silver I had.”
“There are more important things than money.”
“Yes. But I don’t think it’s much of a risk. We’ll be done and home before Herod knows we were really ever here.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Chapter Eleven
It was at dusk at the end of Shabbat. As soon as three stars appeared in the night sky, they would perform the Havdalah ceremony marking the end of another Shabbat and the beginning of ordinary time of the coming week. The three boys sat in a corner playing a game with carved wooden dice. The men sat talking together. The women sat separately, talking.
A light knock came at the door. That anyone should be calling on them on Shabbat, even at the end of the Shabbat, was highly unusual. A frisson of fear danced on Miriam’s spine.
Sarah went to answer the door. Standing there were a dozen men clothed in fine robes and the turbans of the Easterners.
Miriam forced herself to swallow, to breathe deeply to calm herself. They’d been found. If these men were now here, how long would it take until Herod’s men came?
Avinu Malkeinu, she begged in the silence of her mind, protect Yehoshua!
“Is the one who is born the King within the house?” one of the men asked, his voice only loud enough to be heard within this room. His strange accent and use of formal, very old, Hebrew, made understanding difficult.
“Come in, quickly,” Sarah said, pulling the first man inside.
When the other men followed, some of them carrying parcels, Sarah looked out into the street. She closed the door and latched it. The fear stricken expression on her face seemed to be contagious as Miriam looked at her sister-in-law and the men.
Sarah spoke, “No one else was in the street, and they came on foot.”
Miriam went over to her sleeping son and picked him up. Sh
e held him tightly to herself.
“Is that the child?” one of the men asked, in the same very formal, ancient, Hebrew, clear awe in his voice. “We have seen his star and have come to do him worship.”
“How did you find us?” Miriam asked.
“His star came to rest just above this house. We followed it. Is that the child who has been born King?”
“What do you want with him?” Yosef demanded.
“Daniel, one of the wisest of your people, became the chief of our people many generations ago. Yet, what he taught us has remained with us. We have seen the star portending the birth of the one who has been long looked for. We have followed that star to Yerushalayim, and now to Bethlehem until now the star has come to rest over this humble house. It has been a long journey for us and we are glad to see it finally completed so that we may return to our homes. We seek the one who was born the King, in order that we might worship him.”
Miriam turned her son to face the Magi.
They knelt before Him, bent forward to touch their foreheads to the floor before rising again to their feet. Several men carrying parcels came forward.
One man of their company spoke, “We have brought gifts of great value for the child; gold, frankincense, and myrrh.”
The bundles were put down before Miriam and her son.
“Herod asked us to let him know where the child was so that he too could come to worship the child,” one of the men said.
“Please no!” Miriam cried out, her alarm clearly obvious.
“Ah,” one of the Magi said, “you see danger for the child in this. Herod, being himself an Edomite and not an Yisra’elite, and having been placed as King by Caesar, is afraid of any challenge.”
“You aren’t oblivious to the political situation,” Yosef replied, his voice tight. “For Herod to see a large group of your people, king-makers from a historical enemy of Roma, ride into Yerushalayim in search of a newborn king of Yisra’el, that old scoundrel has to be shaking in his own skin. A disturbed Herod is a profoundly dangerous man. This is a man who did not hesitate to have his own son killed when the son became a threat to him. You have put us all in danger. Yourselves included.”