Okay, get ready for a deep dive into a text that
presents, well, a version of Jesus' childhood
you've almost certainly never encountered before.
Forget those quiet years between Bethlehem and
the temple. Imagine a newborn speaking clay figures
coming to life or maybe a royal throne stretching
on command. Yeah, it's quite something. What
if everything you thought you knew about Jesus'
early life was based on just, you know, a few
brief glimpses. It's true. The standard biblical
gospel is Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. They
offer a remarkably little detail about Jesus'
life from his birth until he appears as an adult
ready for baptism around age 30. Right. We get
the nativity stories, the flight to Egypt in
return, and really just that single event of
him at age 12 in the temple. Those middle years,
largely silent. And where there's silence in
one text, well, other stories often emerge to
fill the gap, don't they? Exactly. Today, we're
exploring a text shared by one of you listeners
called the first gospel of the infancy of Jesus
Christ. Now this text makes a pretty bold opening
claim. It purports to be based on the account
of Joseph the High Priest, which, well, some
traditions equate with Caiaphas. That attribution
is certainly. Interesting. Given Caiaphas's prominent
role in Jesus' later crucifixion story in the
canonical Gospels, regardless of its actual historical
origins or authorship, this text was clearly
circulating in some early Christian communities.
And it provides this dramatic, action -packed,
and very different narrative of Jesus' life from
birth up to age 12. So our mission in this deep
dive is to unpack this alternative story, pull
out the most fascinating and perhaps startling
details. And understand what this text tells
us about how some people in the early centuries
imagined the divine power of Jesus manifesting,
you know, in his earliest years. It's a chance
to see a childhood absolutely packed with miracles
really from infancy onward. Okay, let's dive
in then. Starting where all the gospel narratives
begin. The nativity. It opens familiar enough,
right? Augustus's decree. Joseph and Mary heading
to Bethlehem. Standard stuff. But then it quickly
diverges. Mary's time comes before they actually
make it into the city. So they end up seeking
shelter in a cave instead. And Joseph then goes
off to fetch a midwife from Jerusalem described
here as an old Hebrew woman. A cave, not a stable.
Interesting. And when they get back? Well, they
find the cave filled with this extraordinary
light. Not just a gentle glow, but a light The
text describes as greater than the light of lamps
and candles, and greater than the light of the
sun itself. Wow. That's not subtle. An immediate
supernatural sign. Definitely not subtle. And
the midwife is, well, understandably stunned
by this. I bet. When she asks Mary about the
child, Mary's reply is quite unique, she says.
As there is not any child like to my son, so
neither is there any woman like to his mother.
A declaration, really, of the uniqueness of both
of them. Absolutely. And a miracle immediately
follows this. The midwife touches the infant.
She's instantly healed herself, responds by vowing
her service to him. So you see physical healing
linked directly to contact with the baby Jesus
right from the start. And it prompts a kind of
discipleship even then. Exactly. Then the shepherds
arrive, led by the star and angels, and the scene
shifts again. The cave, instead of being just
a humble stable, it seems like a glorious temple.
It's a temple. Yeah, filled with angels and men
praising God together. The old midwife joins
in, too, echoing Simeon's later words that her
eyes have seen the Savior. Okay, so the text
also includes the circumcision. It does on the
eighth day, still in the cave. And here's a particularly
notable point. The old woman takes the foreskin,
or as the text notes, some say, the navel string,
and preserves it in an alabaster box of spikenert
oil. OK, wait. An alabaster box? That sounds
familiar. It does, doesn't it? And this is where
the text connects the dots in a really surprising
way. It explicitly states that this alabaster
box is the one that Mary, identified as Mary
the sinner, often understood as Mary Magdalene
later uses to anoint Jesus. No way. Seriously.
Seriously. It creates this direct, tangible link
between the physical remnants of his infancy
and that really well -known act of devotion before
his passion. That's incredible. It suggests a
perspective where, I guess, Jesus' sacredness
infused even his bodily components right from
birth. Yes, exactly. Binding these disparate
moments in his life through a physical object.
It's quite a theological statement. Definitely.
Moving on, the presentation in the temple. Right.
On the 40th day, Simeon is described seeing Jesus
shining as a pillar of light, attended by angels
like royal guards. The pillar of light. Yeah.
In his similar prophecy, And the wise men, they
arrive too. They do, from the east, bringing
their gold, frankincense and myrrh. This text
adds an interesting twist though. It attributes
their guidings to the prophecy of Zorahdosh,
which is Zoroaster. Zoroaster? Huh. So pulling
in elements from other traditions, maybe? It
seems like it, yeah. It hints at how these stories
could incorporate different cultural threads.
But the most striking detail here involves Mary's
gift to them in return. She gives them a gift?
What is it? One of Jesus' swaddling clothes.
A swaddling cloth? Okay. Seems humble. Seems
humble, but it becomes the focus of an astonishing
miracle. When the wise men get back home, they
throw the swaddling cloth into a fire maybe as
a test or some kind of act of reverence? Let
me guess. It refuses to burn. Completely unharmed.
Wow. Not even singed. Not at all. And this leads
them to worship the cloth and treasure it among
their possessions. So another strong statement
about the inherent power and sanctity just radiating
from Jesus, even through objects he's merely
touched or worn. Exactly. What does that emphasis
on the power of physical relics tell us, do you
think? about the theology, maybe. Well, it suggests
a worldview where the divine isn't just in Jesus,
but it's actively radiating from him, right?
Well, capable of transforming and empowering
the material world around him. Precisely. This
kind of emphasis on material conduits of holiness,
it was present in various ancient beliefs and
certainly found expression in certain Christian
traditions later on. Okay, so if the nativity
was eventful, the flight to Egypt in this text
is, well, an absolute whirlwind of supernatural
events. Oh, absolutely. Herod's anger, the angelic
warning to Joseph to flee as soon as the cock
crows, that's familiar, but the journey itself,
anything but a quiet escape. How so? It starts
with a mundane problem, actually. Their saddle
girths break. But as they approach a city in
Egypt, things escalate rapidly. They encounter
the local idols. Uh -oh. idols. Yeah. And this
city has a particularly important idol, one that
other idols apparently make offerings to, and
the text claims this main idol speaks. It speaks.
What does it say? It declares, the unknown God
is come hither, who is truly God. He is truly
the Son of God. Whoa. The idol itself proclaims
him. Seems so. And immediately after this declaration,
that main idol falls down instantly, followed
by all the other idols throughout Egypt. All
of them across the whole country. That's what
the text claims. And then it explicitly links
this event to the prophecy in Hosea. Ah, out
of Egypt I have called my son. Exactly. Suggesting
this wasn't just about Israel's exodus, but specifically
Jesus' presence literally causing the collapse
of Egyptian paganism. It's a very literal and
dramatic interpretation of Scripture. It certainly
is a powerful theological statement. The arrival
of the true God displacing all others. Quite
literally. But you said there were smaller miracles,
too. Yes. Alongside this big event, the text
includes many smaller personal miracles during
their stay. At the inn, near the fallen idol,
for instance, they meet a priest's son who's
possessed by devils and throwing stones. So Mary
washes Jesus' swaddling clothes and hangs them
up to dry. The possessed boy grabs one of the
clothes, puts it on his head, and the devils
visibly leave him, described as flying out in
the shape of crows and serpents. He's instantly
healed. Again, with the close, the power residing
in his belongings. Yeah. It's a recurring theme.
Now, the text notes that Joseph and Mary were,
you know, understandably fighting by the reaction
to the idols falling. Yeah, I imagine that caused
a stir. They feared Egyptian anger, so they moved
towards secret places of robbers. Towards robbers?
That doesn't sound safer. Well, they do encounter
robbers, but they don't need to fight. The thieves
hear a noise like a vast army approaching trumpets,
horses, the whole thing, and they flee in terror,
leaving behind their captives in loot. And Joseph
and Mary didn't do anything. Nope. The freed
prisoners meet them, and Joseph and Mary simply
tell them the king will come after them. It seems
the infant Jesus' mere presence generates this
divine protective force field, almost. Incredible.
So the journey continues. More healings. Oh,
yes. The text piles them on. There's an encounter
with a woman possessed by Satan, Mary pities
her, and Satan leaves in the form of a young
man crying out in distress against Mary and her
son. Satan himself addresses Mary. Apparently
so. Then in another town, they meet a bride who
had been struck dumb by sorcerers. Struck dumb.
Yeah. She sees Mary holding Jesus, takes him,
hugs and kisses him, and boom. Her tongue is
immediately loosed, her ears are open, and she
starts singing praises. Direct physical contact
again. That's the key in many of these stories,
and that theme of power through physical contact,
particularly with Jesus' things, gets reinforced
again and again. Like how? Well, there's a whole
series of healing specifically involving the
water used to wash Jesus or His swaddling clothes.
Okay, tell me about those. There's a woman afflicted
by Satan appearing as a serpent wrapped around
her. She asks to hold Jesus and the serpent leaves
when she moves him. Okay, fine. But the next
day, she washes Jesus and saves the water. Saves
the wash water. Why? Well, because that water
becomes a potent healing agent. A girl suffering
from leprosy is sprinkled and washed with the
saved water and is instantly cleansed. Instantly.
From leprosy. Instantly. And the people are astonished,
naturally. They start wondering if Joseph, Mary,
and Jesus are actually gods. Understandable reaction,
I suppose. And the healed girl is so grateful
she actually joins their traveling group. She
travels with them. Wow. And this cured girl becomes
important later. She encounters a sorrowful prince's
wife whose marriage is void because she and her
son are leprous. Oh dear. So the cured girl shares
her story about the wash water. The prince's
wife gets the water, pours it on her own leprous
son, and he too is instantly cleansed. She praises
God, rewards Mary richly. You see how the benefits
ripple outwards. It's like a chain reaction of
healing. Any other examples? Yep. They lodged
with a recently married man who's been afflicted
by sorcerers, unable to consummate his marriage.
Awkward. Very. But simply having the holy family
stay in his house overnight cures him. Just their
presence. He's so gratefully host this lavish
celebration for them. Just being near them fixed
it. Amazing. But perhaps the most surprising
miracle in Egypt involves a mule. A mule? What
happens with a mule? They come to a city where
some women are mourning their brother, who has
been turned into a mule by witchcraft. Turned
into a mule? Seriously? Like in a fairy tale?
Exactly like that. So the cured leper girl, who's
still traveling with them, tells the sisters
about Mary and Jesus. The women plead with Mary
for help. What does Mary do? She places the baby
Jesus on the mule's back and prays. The mule
immediately turns back into a young man, right
there. Get out! That's wild. It is. The family
is overjoyed. They worship Mary and Jesus. And
then, incredibly, the restored young man marries
the cured leper girl who brought his sisters
to Mary in the first place. A wedding. So it
combines healing, transformation, and a happy
ending. That story has everything. It really
highlights the boundless and sometimes, yeah,
totally unexpected nature of the divine power
depicted in this text. Okay, what about those
robbers again? You mentioned they encountered
them. Right. As they travel through a desert
region infested with robbers, they encounter
two specific leaders named Titus and Dumakus
who are asleep. Titus and Dumakus. Those names
sound vaguely familiar. They might. Titus wants
to let the family pass peacefully, so he actually
offers a bribe to Dumakus not to make a fuss
or wake the others. Mary sees this kindness.
and blesses Titus. Okay, consider it thief. And
then, right there, the infant Jesus speaks and
makes a specific prophecy. He speaks again. What
does he say this time? He foretells his own crucifixion
in 30 years and states that these two thieves,
Titus and Demacus, will be crucified with him,
specifically Titus on his right hand entering
paradise. That's incredibly specific and connects
directly to the passion narratives. Mary must
have been distressed. The text says she was.
It's a sterk foreshadowing, this glimpse into
the future revealing his divine knowledge so
early on, linking his infancy directly to his
ultimate fate. Heavy stuff for a baby to predict.
What happens next? Well, as they near another
city, one apparently filled with idols, the text
says the entire city just turns into sandhills.
Gone. Oof. Just like that. Another swift judgment
against paganism. Seems so. Even more complete
than the idols just falling. Then they come to
Metaria. Yeah. And there, the text says Jesus
caused a well to spring forth. This is supposedly
where Mary washes his coat and that balsam grew
from his sweat. More details connecting him physically
to the land leading signs. Exactly. Enduring
signs of his presence. Finally, the text notes
they proceed to Memphis. See Pharaoh, though
it doesn't elaborate on that, and stay for three
years in Egypt. Three years. And it explicitly
states that Jesus performed very many miracles
there that are not recorded elsewhere. It hints
at this even vaster store of hidden stories,
you know? Right. A whole lost chapter. potentially.
Okay, so after these three incredibly eventful
years, they finally return from Egypt. They do.
But Joseph is hesitant to re -enter Judea. He
hears Herod is dead, but his son, Archelaus,
who was apparently just as bad as reigning. So
still dangerous. Yeah. An angel directs him to
go to Nazareth instead. And the text pauses here
for a moment, reflecting on this profound paradox,
right? The Lord of all countries being carried
around, directed by an angel, dependent on his
parents. It is a powerful thought. how the divine
submitted to human conditions. As they settle
back, maybe in Nazareth or nearby, the text says
they encounter desperate distempers killing children.
Lots of sickness around. So more healings are
needed. Seems so. And we see a return to that
recurring theme. More healings involving the
washwater or swaddling clothes. The greatest
hits. Pretty much. Children near death or with
severe diseases are cured simply through contact
with these items that carry Jesus' power. There's
even a specific story about a boy named Bartholomew.
like the apostle. Could be the connection intended.
He was near death but was cured after being laid
in Jesus' bed and just smelling his clothes.
Smelling his clothes. Wow, that's potent. It
is. And these texts often name individuals like
this, maybe linking them to later figures or
implying a known tradition behind these stories.
Interesting. Are there other stories from this
period back home? Yes, there's also a story involving
a family conflict. A man with two wives. One
rival wife tries to kill Caleb, who the text
identifies as Mary's son, probably meaning Jesus'
mother's child or relative, not Jesus himself.
This wife tries twice. Ow! First, throws him
in a hot oven. He's found unharmed, laughing.
Yep. Then she throws him into a well. He's found
just sitting safely on the water's surface. Mary
tells Lady Mary, presumably Jesus' mother, who
trusts God, will vindicate. And does he? According
to the text, yes. The rival wife later falls
into that same well and dies. A moment of divine
justice protecting the child. Intense. What else?
Another really dramatic healing involves a girl
tormented by Satan, who appears as a dragon sucking
her blood. A dragon? Yeah, appearing as a dragon.
The healed leper prince's daughter, remember
her? The one traveling with them. Yes, the one
cured by the wash water. She tells the girl's
mother to take her to Mary. Mary gives them more
wash water and another swaddling cloth, instructing
the mother to tell the girl to show it to the
enemy when it appears. Show the cloth to the
dragon. Right. So when the dragon appears, the
girl puts the cloth on her head and eyes, and
flames and burning coals shoot from the cloth
hitting the dragon. Flames from the swaddling
cloth. Seriously. That's the image. The dragon
cries out against Jesus and flees. It's incredibly
vivid, a swaddling cloth, literally weaponized
with divine fire against Satan. That underscores
the power in those objects like nothing else.
Absolutely. Then comes a really unsettling story
about a boy named Judas. Judas, as in? As in
Judas Iscariot, yes. The text says he was possessed
by Satan as a child and had a habit of biting
people. His mother brings him to Mary. Okay.
While Jesus is playing, Judas tries to bite him,
but instead he strikes Jesus on his right side.
He hits Jesus. He does. And at that moment, Satan
immediately leaves Judas, described as flying
out like a mad dog. Wow. But the text identifies
him as a scarier. Explicitly. And it makes this
direct, chilling link. This boy was Judas Iscariot,
the future betrayer, and the side he struck as
a possessed child. That's the very side, later
pierced by the spirit, the crucifixion. Oh my
goodness, that's dark. A complex foreshadowing,
suggesting his fate was maybe linked to this
early demonic influence and violence towards
Jesus. It's a deeply troubling connection presented
here. Okay, so as Jesus grows a bit older, say
around age seven, do the miracles continue? They
do, but now they become intertwined with childhood
play, though they're no less powerful. He's playing
with other boys, making figures out of clay asses,
oxen, birds. Like kids do. Right, but then he
commands them to become real, to walk, fly, eat,
and they do. The clay figures come alive. Exactly.
When the other boys tell their parents, the parents
are horrified. They call Jesus a sorcerer and
warn their children to stay away from him. Ah,
so his power... starts to be misunderstood or
feared. Precisely. Okay. It shows how his inherent
divine power could be perceived as something
illicit or, you know, dangerous magic by those
who didn't understand its source. Does this happen
again, this perception of magic? It does. There's
the story of the Dire shop. Jesus goes into the
shop, takes all the cloths the Dire has prepared
for various customers, each needing a different
color. Okay. And he throws them all into a furnace
full of, say, black dye. All of them. Together,
the Dire must have freaked out. Completely panic,
but then Jesus pulls the cloths out and each
one is dyed the precise correct color that each
individual customer wanted how? Okay, that's
definitely miraculous a display of control over
material transformation playful, but astonishing.
And maybe a way to help Joseph's trade or provide
for the family, perhaps. He also helps Joseph
the carpenter more directly. The text notes Joseph
isn't particularly skilled. Not a great carpenter?
Apparently not. If a piece of wood is cut too
long or too short for a job, Jesus safely stretches
out his hand and the wood becomes exactly the
right size needed instantly. Handy. That must
have saved Joseph a lot of work in wood. You'd
think so. There's one specific instance mentioned.
Joseph spends two years making a throne for the
king of Jerusalem, made of special wood from
Solomon's time, apparently. A royal commission.
High stakes. Very. But when he finishes, its
tube spans too short on each side. It doesn't
fit. Oh no. After two years, the king must have
been furious. He was, and Joseph was in despair.
But Jesus tells Joseph not to worry. He says,
you pull one side, I'll pull the other. Pull
the throne. Yeah. They both pull, and the throne
stretches out perfectly to fit the required space.
Stretches solid wood. Wow. That's a striking
visual of divine power reshaping reality to fix
a human mistake. And on a royal throne, no less.
Exactly. Grand scale stuff. There are more stories
from his playtime, too. Jesus is playing with
boys, and they decide to hide from him. They
hide inside a furnace. In a furnace, okay. Jesus
asks some nearby women where the boys are. The
women lie, maybe jokingly, maybe trying to protect
the kids, and say there are just some three -year
-old kids, meaning young goats in the furnace.
I said goats. Yeah, kids. So Jesus calls out,
come out here, there are O .E. kids. Don't tell
me. The boys emerge from the furnace transformed
into actual young goats leaping around him. No,
he turned them into goats. That's the story.
The women are terrified, obviously, and they
beg him to change them back. Jesus obliges, calls,
come hither, oh boys, and they return to human
form. That's remarkable, almost unsettling that
power over identity and form even in play. It
is. In the text notes, Jesus makes a comment
after this. The children of Israel are like Ethiopians
among the people. What does that mean? It sounds
odd. It's a puzzling line, honestly. Often debated.
Maybe suggesting a disconnect between their outward
appearance or actions and their true nature.
Or maybe a commentary on spiritual darkness or
misunderstanding. It's unclear. Hmm. Okay, so
the miracles keep mixing play with power. Are
there more healings? Yes, including during another
game. While playing king with other boys, this
is in the month of Adar, the text says they dress
them up with a flower ground, make passersby
worship their king. Standard kid stuff, maybe.
Plain pretend. Right. But then a boy who was
bitten by a poisonous serpent is brought to them
on a couch. Oh dear. Jesus insists they all go
find and kill the serpent, even though the parents
are scared. At the nest, Jesus calls the serpent
out. Calls the snake. Yep, commands it to suck
its poison back out of the boy. What? Does it
work? It does. The serpent sucks the poison out,
healing the boy. Then Jesus curses the serpent
and it will soap in and dies. Wow. Curses it
to death. And then Jesus touches the healed boy,
tells him to stop crying and says, Hereafter
thou shalt be my disciple. And the text identifies
this boy as Simon the Canaanite. Simon the Canaanite.
Another future apostle linked to a childhood
miracle, just like Bartholomew maybe? Seems to
be a pattern. His own family isn't immune to
danger either. His brother James... Presumably
the Lord's brother gets bitten by a viper while
gathering wood with Jesus. James, too. Viper's
everywhere. Apparently. But Jesus simply blows
on the bite and it's instantly healed. Simple
as that. It's just a breath. Okay. What about
raising the dead? Does that happen early, too?
It does. Remarkably early, according to this
text. The other boys flee, leaving Jesus alone,
potentially looking guilty. But Jesus denies
any fault, goes to the body, calls out the boy's
name, the dead boy answers, and identifies who
actually pushed him off the roof. He speaks from
death to clear Jesus' name and identify the culprit.
Exactly. Raising the dead, maybe age 10 or 11,
presented almost casually within his everyday
activities, much earlier than similar events
in the canonical gospels. That's a huge difference.
Are there other smaller miracles mentioned? Yeah,
woven in, like when Mary asks him to fetch water,
the pitcher breaks, but Jesus just gathers the
water up in his mantle, his cloak, and brings
it to her perfectly fine. Shows his power over
natural elements, even gravity or cohesion, I
guess. Okay, so far most of these miracles are
helpful, or at least playful, even the goat thing,
but some sound darker. Yes, some miracles in
this text show a much more immediate, even punitive
aspect to his power. This is where it gets quite
different from the usual image. By the river
on the Sabbath, Jesus is making clay sparrows
and little pools playing again. The son of a
Jew named Hanani sees him doing this work, making
figures and accuses him of breaking the Sabbath.
Okay, a confrontation. Right. When Hanani's son
tries to destroy the pools Jesus made, Jesus
says, in like manner as this water has vanished,
so shall thy life vanish. The boy drops dead
instantly. He curses him to death for messing
up his pools. That's harsh. It is. And there's
another similar instance. Jesus is coming home
with Joseph and another boy runs into him, maybe
accidentally, maybe carelessly, and throws him
down. Can I exhale over? Yeah. Jesus responds,
As thou hast thrown me down, so shalt thou fall,
nor ever rise. And that boy immediately falls
down and dies too. Just like that. For bumping
into him. Just like that. These stories present
a really startling picture of divine authority
manifesting with swift fatal consequences for
those who oppose or even just accidentally offend
him. It's a stark contrast to the often patient
portrayal in the canonical Gospels, isn't it?
Absolutely. It's a very different kind of power
being depicted. Does this cause fear? It seems
to. There's an account of Jesus going to school.
A master named Zacchaeus tries to teach him the
alphabet, starting with Aleph. Okay, school time.
But Jesus says he'll only pronounce the next
letter, Beth, if Zacchaeus first explains the
meaning of Aleph. The deeper meaning. Challenging
the teacher on the first letter, bold. Very.
When Zacchaeus threatens to whip him for being
difficult, Jesus doesn't just explain the profound
meaning of the letters himself, but demonstrates
knowledge far beyond any master. Zacchaeus is
astonished and says Jesus was born before Noah.
Born before Noah. Yeah. Implying pre -existence
again. So what happens with the whipping threat?
Well, they try sending him to a supposedly more
learned master, but when this master lifts his
hand to strike Jesus, his hand withers and he
dies. The teacher dies for trying to discipline
him. According to this text, yes. Joseph becomes
fearful after this, understandably, afraid to
let Jesus out of the house because it seems everyone
who displeases him meets a swift negative end.
Yeah, I can see why Joseph would be worried.
Which brings us, I guess, to the one childhood
event that is shared with the canonical Gospels.
Jesus at age 12 in the temple. Right. During
the feast in Jerusalem, they go up, Jesus stays
behind among the doctors, elders, learned men.
That part's familiar from Luke. But this text
expands on it. Dramatically, his interaction
isn't just passively asking questions like a
curious kid. He's actively engaging, debating,
teaching, really. How so? What does he do? He
asks these profound theological questions, probing
their understanding of Scripture. Things like,
whose son is the Messiah? Why does David call
him Lord? questions that, you know, pop up again
in his adult ministry. So already engaging in
serious theological debate. Absolutely. And he
displays astonishing knowledge that goes way
beyond scripture alone. He explains the meaning
of the letters, the law, the prophets, sure,
but also mysteries that, quote, the mind of no
creature could reach. Mysteries beyond human
understanding. That's the claim. a rabbi is amazed,
declaring him more learned than any master, and
repeating that idea that he was born before Noah,
reinforcing that pre -existence theme. And it
wasn't just religious knowledge, right? The outline
mentioned science. Exactly. His knowledge isn't
limited to religious topics. An astronomer questions
him, and Jesus explains the number of spheres,
the heavenly bodies, their motions, sizes, how
to interpret them, things human reason had never
discovered, innate astronomical knowledge. At
age 12. Okay. What else? Then a philosopher and
physician probes him on science and philosophy.
And Jesus explains physics, metaphysics, things
above and below nature, the entire workings of
the human body. It's powers, humors, members,
bones, veins, arteries, nerves, constitutions,
even the soul's operations, sensations, faculties,
how things are composed and dissolved. The text
claims these are things the understanding of
no creature had ever reached. Complete knowledge
of everything, basically. That's the picture
painted. The philosopher is so overwhelmed he
worships Jesus right there and vows to be his
disciple. So it's a 12 year old not just why
is beyond his years in religion but possessing
this complete innate divine and scientific knowledge
that surpasses all human understanding and discovery.
A very different scene from Luke's brief mention.
Very different indeed. Then Mary and Joseph find
him after three days of searching. Mary asks
you know why he did this causing them such worry.
And his reply. Is it the same? Similar to the
canonical account. Why did you seek me? Did you
not know that I ought to be employed in my father's
house? But this text explicitly adds that they
did not understand his meaning. Ah, okay. Reinforcing
their lack of comprehension of his true nature,
maybe? Could be. They return to Nazareth, and
the text says he was obedient to them, and Mary,
just like in Luke, keeps all these things in
her memory. It concludes this section by noting
Jesus grew in stature, wisdom, and favor, echoing
the more familiar gospel ending for that period.
So after all that, what happens next according
to this text? Does he keep doing miracles? Interestingly,
no. From this point, the text states that Jesus
began to conceal his miracles. Conceal them.
Why? It suggests a deliberate choice, perhaps.
He dedicated himself instead to studying the
law until he reached the age of 30. A period
of quiet preparation, stepping back from those
constant public displays of power during his
late childhood and young adulthood. So a shift
happens after the temple incident. Seems so.
He then reemerges, of course, for his public
ministry, affirmed at the Jordan baptism by the
voice from heaven and the descending dove. more
closely with the familiar narrative. And how
does this particular text end? It concludes with
the beautiful doxological passage just praising
God for life, being, redemption, mercy, and grace.
It roots this whole extraordinary sometimes wild
narrative firmly within a context of worship
and divine providence. Wow. Okay. Taking a step
back now from this deep dive. the contrast between
this account and the, well, the very brief mentions
of Jesus' childhood in the canonical Gospels
is just stark, isn't it? Absolutely stark. The
New Testament Gospels offer what a handful of
verses about these years. This text gives us
a full detailed and frankly kind of mind -boggling
narrative filled with constant powerful and,
yeah, sometimes unsettling miracles. It certainly
offers a fascinating window into how some early
Christian communities might have imagined Jesus'
divine nature manifesting right from his earliest
moments. Definitely. The sheer volume and variety
of miracles. I mean, from healing and transformation
to raising the dead and even inflicting swift
judgment, it paints a picture of a child absolutely
saturated with divine power, active and potent
in the world from infancy. It suggests a really
strong desire to emphasize his divinity and authority.
like from day one, no waiting around. Precisely.
So what does exploring a source like this offer
you, the listener? Well, it gives you a unique
perspective on the diverse landscape of early
Christian thought and storytelling. Right. It
shows you that the familiar biblical narratives
weren't the only stories about Jesus circulating
back then. Exactly. And that other communities
held in shared accounts that emphasize very different
aspects of his identity and power during his
childhood. So maybe you could consider how this
particular narrative of Jesus' childhood resonated.
or maybe clashes with the more familiar one you
grew up with. Yeah, and think about what the
inclusion of these specific types of miracles.
The speaking infant, the walking clay figures,
the transforming mules, even those fatal curses
on people who cross him. What might that tell
us about the beliefs, maybe the anxieties, the
theological priorities of the people who wrote,
copied, and valued these stories? It really forces
you to think about... the choices made when the
biblical canon, the collection of books we know,
was being formed, doesn't it? It does. And that
leads us to our final provocative thought for
you to mull over. Given how detailed, dramatic,
and seemingly miraculous these stories are, why?
Why were they ultimately not included in the
collection of books that became the widely accepted
New Testament? Mm -hmm. Good question. What might
the exclusion of this really action -packed infancy
narrative tell us about the theological perspectives,
maybe the historical standards, or perhaps even
the perceived audience of those who compiled
the canonical Gospels? It definitely opens up
a whole line of questioning about the process
of canon formation itself, doesn't it? And the
criteria by which early Christian texts were
judged and selected or deselected. Absolutely.
Well, thank you again for bringing this truly
fascinating and really unexpected source material
to our attention. It's been an extraordinary
deep dive into a very different kind of childhood.
It certainly has quite the journey.