He was a year older than me. We played together in the carpenter’s shop. Our hands were honed and splintered by the tools and wood.

He got to do things before I did, taken to the Temple, learning the Torah, his rite of passage into adulthood. I was a little jealous, which brother is not. I rejoiced when I grew a tad taller than him; and when I could beat him in the race from the market to the workshop.

We comforted our younger brothers and sisters together when our father died. He let me lead the Kiddush, saying it was fitting that Joseph’s firstborn did so. He was always doing and saying strange things, but at that moment it did not matter.

We went into business together, and it was brilliant… while it lasted. We went to the Jordan River to hear our cousin John. He was always the religious one. Don’t get me wrong, we were a devout family. Both of us were baptised at the same time. It was strange, I thought I saw and heard something, but afterwards was not sure. People in the crowd were convinced, and were pointing at us; although afterwards, I thought they were just gesticulating at him.

He went on into the desert; and said the business was mine now. None of us heard from him for days, but then we heard rumours that he was teaching the people and giving them hope. I liked that idea. People always need hope. Then whispers that he staying with the wrong kind of people: prostitutes, tax-collectors. Eventually, I heard he was being critical of our leaders and our traditions; gathering others around him, claiming to speak in God’s name.

I did not know what to do. I did what any brother would. I got together our siblings and our mum and went to find him. We could not get into house where he was. After waiting for many hours, one of his followers, Judas came out, and let us know that he had said any who followed him was his brother, sister or mother.

I was angry – we had played, worked, argued, laughed and smiled together – and he seemed to be saying that all that counted for nothing.

I was angrier for Mum; but she seemed calm and peaceful.

He went to Jerusalem for Passover. Mum wanted to go, so I went too. It was my duty; someone had to act like they were the firstborn.

As he rode into the city that day, I almost believed he was the Messiah; although it is hard to believe that when at the same time you have images family races, meals and birthdays flashing through your mind.

Hosanna! to the Son of David. We were always proud that we were of David’s line.

He went mental in the Temple, and from that point on I decided to look after our Mum and have nothing more to do with him. I was asked by Mum to go the Passover celebration, but I would go in.

All of it happened in a blur. He was arrested and condemned. My brother! I was in the crowd, yelling for him.

I kept my distance from him whilst he was on the Cross. I wanted to go to be there, but could not. Only a handful of his followers were there. At least I watched. He gave our mum into the care of someone else.

Then he died. I was suddenly the eldest.

James and John took care of Mum, and told me to keep my head down. “The authorities might want to wipe out the family as well as his friends”, the said.

I stayed in a room by myself. Joses was in the next house.

I spent the day reading the Torah. I felt alone.

On Sunday, there whispers about the tomb

That is all I need, I thought.

It all happened too suddenly.

Suddenly, he was there – the Lord of glory; my brother Jesus.

He smiled

I smiled

He laughed

I laughed.

We patted each other on the back.

I looked into his eyes – and he read everything there is know about me and how I felt in my eyes,

Then he was gone

I thought I had better start acting like the firstborn, and with others I gathered people together; trying to make sense of my brother, the Messiah.

I even ended leading the Church in Jerusalem

With a brother like that, you never know what is going to happen.