After Tobias left them to return to his own home and share his glad tidings, Martha and Mary still sat on the bench. Martha tried to process the amazing news that Tobias had brought them. Finally, she rose and began making preparations for their evening meal. Mary sat for a moment longer, looking up at the clouds in the sky, her face radiating her joy. When Martha cleared her throat and gave her a stern look, she rose quickly and, taking the bread from the oven where it was wrapped in cloths, put it on the table and went to the storeroom for cups of water.
“I go to our God”—the words Thaddeus had said on the scroll. Jesus could not have done the miracles he did unless he was from God. Martha turned the words over and over in her mind as she moved about the stove and put platters on the table. Would she and her family see the Lord again? He had appeared to the women; surely he would come to the disciples and reveal himself again. He loved Lazarus as a brother. Would he not show himself to them? She thought of the picture of Mary Magdalene falling at Jesus’s feet and actually seeing him and hearing his beloved voice. All of a sudden a great longing rose up in her heart.
25
It wasn’t until the fifth day of the week that Thomas appeared at their gate. He came just after sunset and kept looking over his shoulder as if he might have been followed.
Martha had never seen Thomas so nervous. He usually had a ready laugh and an easygoing attitude. As he looked at Mary, his feelings were obvious. Had he braved any danger just to see her again?
“Peace be upon this house,” he whispered.
Lazarus quickly shut the gate behind Thomas. Mary hurried from Thomas’s side to prepare something for him to eat. The two men went inside the house where they could speak freely. As Martha put the warm lentil stew in front of him and Mary put down a half a loaf of bread and some figs, Thomas began to relax a bit.
The women waited patiently for him to satisfy his hunger, but Martha thought he’d never tell them his news.
Finally, Lazarus spoke up. “Tell me, Thomas, what have you seen in the city? What is happening?”
Thomas wiped his mouth on his sleeve and looked around at them. “I don’t know what to believe of what I’ve heard. I’m sure Tobias told you that some of the women say they’ve seen the Lord. Then two of the disciples, Cleophas and Simon, who were traveling to Emmaus, told of a stranger joining them on the road. He asked why they were downcast and they told him of the crucifixion and that they felt all their hopes were shattered. The stranger began to expound on the Scriptures and tell of the things the Messiah was to suffer. He opened the Scriptures to them. They wanted to hear more and convinced him to turn aside at an inn with them for the night. As they sat at the table, eating, the stranger broke bread before them and to their astonishment, it was the Lord! As soon as they recognized him, he disappeared, so they say, and the disciples hurried back to Jerusalem and the upper room to tell the others.”
He absentmindedly broke a date cake in half as he stared out into the darkness. “The disciples even said, would you believe it, that he suddenly appeared to them in the upper room? Like a ghost, now he’s here, now he’s there.” He hung his head. “I don’t know what to think. It all seems part of someone’s imagination. They wanted to see the Lord, so they thought they did. It seems like so many tall stories. They only make things worse.”
Thomas spread his hands in a futile gesture. “I cannot just believe tall tales. Unless I put my hand in his side, and touch the nail prints in his hands and feet, I will not believe. The disciples wait in the upper room and no one knows what to do.”
Mary sank down at the table on a cushion next to Thomas. “But, think of all the miracles we witnessed when he was here on earth with us; the blind healed, the lame walked, demons were cast out, and your own friend, our brother, was raised from the dead. Why can you not believe what he told us when he was here?”
Thomas gave Mary a sad, sweet smile. “I cannot plan the rest of my life on hearsay.”
She sighed. “Will you go back to the upper room?”
His shoulders drooped. “Probably, I don’t know what else to do. Peter and some of the others are talking about going back to Galilee to go fishing. I may go with them. I need to make some money. It’s the only occupation I know.”
He turned earnestly to Lazarus. “I want to show you that I’m worthy of Mary, that I can support her and make a home for her.”
Lazarus stroked his beard. “Yes, my friend, I’m sure you do. I know this is a difficult time. All is not impossible.” He leaned closer to Thomas and lowered his voice. “I must ask you to tell me if there is any further word concerning me and the leaders.”
Thomas was instantly contrite. “Here I have thought only of myself and seeing Mary again. Of course you have waited for news. It is not good, Lazarus. Hanniel told me that double the number of guards watched the Sabbath services at the Temple. The Temple police also moved in and around the crowd. They didn’t do anything, but they did seem to be watching for someone. I would not go into Jerusalem if I were you.”
Martha huffed, “If they were looking for Lazarus, they know where we live. No one has come here from the Jewish leaders, no soldiers. It seems to me that if they wanted Lazarus, they would come here and arrest him.”
Thomas shook his head. “You underestimate them. They didn’t take Jesus in public because of the people that followed him. They took him at night in a secret place because Judas had betrayed him. If they want Lazarus, they will find a way to take him without attracting attention and quietly do away with him, lest they be blamed and there is blood on their hands.”
Martha felt a cold chill go up her back and saw the fear on Mary’s face.
Lazarus looked up at his sisters. “What can I do?”
“If I were you, I’d go away, Lazarus, until this all quiets down. When the leaders see that you are not starting a rebellion, it may be that they will discard their plans for you.”
Mary put a hand on her brother’s arm. “Perhaps Thomas is right. Maybe you only have to go away for a few months. They will forget about you.”
He shook his head slowly. “It all seems too much to take in. My sisters would be left alone. They cannot tend the fields and do all the work themselves.” He stroked his beard, deep in thought. Finally, “When will you return to Jerusalem?”
“I promised I’d come back on the first day of the week again. If the others are going fishing, I told Peter I would go with them.”
Martha gave Thomas her warmest smile. “Then stay, Thomas, until after the Sabbath.” In her heart she feared that Mary would not see Thomas again.
The two young people talked about marriage, and even Lazarus was moved by their devotion to one another. He agreed to give his consent to the marriage if Thomas could prove he could take care of Mary. The men talked about where Lazarus could go. Thomas confessed he had relatives in Damascus. If he had to leave also, there was a place he and Lazarus could go.
The morning after the Sabbath, Thomas once again prepared to return to the city. He’d made up his mind to go fishing with Peter and the others, determined to show Lazarus he could earn a living and support a wife.
Mary’s eyes pooled with tears as she bade him goodbye once again and stood without moving, watching him trudge down the road to Jerusalem. The pain on Mary’s face tugged at Martha’s heart, and she went to put her arms around her sister and comfort her. For Mary’s sake, she prayed that Thomas would come to no harm.
26
Nathan watched as Martha rolled up her two most recent weavings and bound them with a cord. He was going into Jerusalem and would take them to the rug merchant for her.
He picked up the bundles. “This is fine work. I should be able to sell them at a good price.”
“Beware of Dothan. He is sly and will try to give you next to nothing for them.”
Nathan, no longer the taciturn man he’d been, grinned at her. “He will not best me, for I’ve traded with him before. You shall get a good price.”
Sh
e smiled in spite of herself. “I’m sure I shall, Nathan.”
When he had gone, she looked around the courtyard to see what needed to be done and checked the water in the sheep pen. A strange restlessness seemed to come over her lately. She tried to shake it off but found herself stopping in the middle of a task to look up at the clouds, or listen to a bird sing. Sometimes she would stand at the gate and look out at the sea of golden grain, waiting for the harvest.
Sometimes she imagined Jesus walking down the road to their house, laughing and talking with his disciples. What teaching they had heard. What miracles they had been privileged to observe. When she watched Lazarus working around their home, it was hard to believe he had actually died and been brought back to life.
The people had pinned all their hopes on Jesus, and when he didn’t accept the role of their leader against the Romans, the fickle crowd had turned against him. Now the words of Thomas filled her with hope. Life would go on in their small village of Bethany as it had all these years before Jesus came. But she would never be the same. Her life would go on. Sometimes depressing thoughts assailed her, nothing new, nothing to look forward to. Just the endless cycle of woman’s work: cooking, washing, baking. There would be no sound of children in their courtyard. Lazarus had more on his mind than marriage and anxiously waited for Tobias to return from Jerusalem. He was poised to flee at any moment, and many kept a lookout in the village to warn him of soldiers or anyone from the Temple approaching the village.
Mary touched her arm. “I’m going to visit with Chloe. Do you mind?”
Martha shook her head. “No, I don’t mind. I’m going to cook the barley and lentil dish for tonight. Do we have any mint left?”
“Yes, there is still some growing in the shade in the garden. I’ll get some for you.”
Martha put a large pot on the clay stove and began to build up the fire. She poured some olive oil in and cut up an onion, moving it about until it started to brown. She added garlic, barley, and the lentils. Mary returned with the mint just as Martha was adding the lentils. She placed a clay platter over the top of the pot and let the pottage simmer.
When Mary had gone, Martha stood still, seeing her life passing by, always the same. She checked the pot, and after making sure it was simmering slowly, went into the house. Feeling like a foolish child who is getting into something she shouldn’t, Martha looked around and then lifted the lid of the small chest in the corner of the house. She lifted the wedding dress a little and reached under it for the small scroll and medallion.
Clutching the medallion to her breast, she once again saw Thaddeus, waiting for her in the olive grove. She felt his strength as she had when she threw herself into his arms after her father died. She unrolled the small scroll and while she couldn’t read the words, they were etched forever on her heart. She rolled it back up and placed it in the chest, then sat back on her heels, fingering the medallion. The love of Thaddeus had erased the rejection she’d felt when Phineas turned down her father’s proposal. She had been loved, by a good man. Though it was but a memory, it was enough. She heard the gate open and quickly put the medallion back in its place and closed the lid.
She stepped out into the courtyard and greeted her brother. “How did it go today?”
“There is enough work to keep me busy for many weeks. I pray there will not be another earthquake to undo all my efforts.”
He was making a joke, but as they looked at each other, the reality of the cause of the earthquake and the darkness played over in Martha’s mind. The promised Messiah had died like a common criminal on a Roman cross. All the miracles he had performed couldn’t save him from the angry crowd that had cried out for his blood. Like fickle children they had wanted him to do their bidding, and when he didn’t they turned against him, urged on by the Jewish leaders.
Lazarus became thoughtful. “This is a strange day. I felt the need to come home sooner than I planned. I saw Mary coming from the house of Tobias.”
“She went to visit Chloe.”
A soft breeze began to blow in the patio just as Mary entered the courtyard. She had a strange look on her face. “I felt like I needed to come home. Is anything wrong?”
Suddenly a voice came to them, softly, as though brought by the wind. The voice was familiar.
“Thus it is written, and thus it was necessary for the Christ to suffer and to rise from the dead the third day, and that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. And you are witnesses of these things.”
Martha looked about her, but there was no one else in the courtyard except the three of them.
“Did you hear anything, Lazarus?”
“Yes, I heard words, as though Jesus was speaking to me.” He told her what he’d heard.
“Those are the words I heard!” Martha said.
Mary gasped. “I heard them also!”
He shook his head. “What is this strange thing? How can we hear the Lord speaking to us?”
“I would say it was the wind, or my imagination, but we all heard it. What can it mean?”
“I don’t know, sister. I don’t know.”
She looked toward the Mount of Olives for a long moment, frowning, and then shrugged. She had no answers. They could only hope that Thomas would return from fishing with the other disciples, and bring them more information.
For the next three weeks, Lazarus continued working around the village, but by now his neighbors knew the danger he was in if the Jewish leaders decided to fulfill their threat. Watchers were casually posted as the eyes of the village watched the road to Jerusalem. He no longer went into the city for the Sabbath. He and the sisters quietly kept the Sabbath at home. Lazarus, just as a precaution, kept a traveling sack nearby, ready to slip away into the hills at a moment’s notice.
Mary worked quietly, and many times Martha saw her smiling to herself. Perhaps she was thinking about Thomas.
Martha went about her tasks, yet several times had the strangest sensation that the Lord was nearby. It was as if he were looking over her shoulder and approving of what she did. At times it was so real she had turned, expecting to see him standing in their small courtyard. She could picture him sitting with the disciples, telling one of his stories. As she thought of him, a sense of peace washed over her. Maybe that is what he left with them, the remembrance of his presence, the memories of his words . . .
A joyful shout heralded the return of Thomas, and Mary’s eyes shown brightly as she opened the gate. It was as if she knew the day of his coming and had been ready and waiting.
Martha and Lazarus rushed to greet him also.
The men embraced. “Thomas, what news have you brought us? Did you go fishing with Peter?”
Thomas grinned at them. “I have news that will seem unbelievable, and indeed, if I had not been there, I would be skeptical myself. The Lord lives.”
Mary gave a glad cry. “I knew it. He has been with me these last days. I’ve heard his voice.”
Martha glanced at her sister and frowned. “I know he lives in our hearts and memories, Thomas, but . . .”
He turned to her and shook his head. “No, Martha, he lives. He has returned from the dead as he said he would.” Thomas motioned toward a bench. “Sit down and I will tell you what I’ve seen.”
They sat, and Thomas began his story . . .
“When I returned to the upper room the second time after I left you, the disciples were excited and told me they had seen the Lord in his resurrected body. The doors were shut, locked, and he just appeared before them! Of course I thought they were just trying to impress me and didn’t believe a word. I told them that I needed to touch the wounds in his hands and feet and put my hand in the wound in his side to believe.” He flung up a hand. “I cannot believe I was so foolish.” He went on. “Then on the next first day of the week, after I left you, I went to the upper room and I had not been there but a few moments, greeting my brethren, when suddenly, Jesus was in o
ur midst.” Thomas hung his head. “He said, ‘Peace to you,’ and he turned to me and said, ‘Reach your finger here, and look at my hands; and reach your hand here, and put it into my side. Do not be unbelieving, but believing.’
“To my everlasting shame, he told me, ‘Thomas, because you have seen me, you have believed. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.’”
“Praise God,” Lazarus murmured. “Praise be to God.”
“What happened next?” Martha asked breathlessly, soaking in Thomas’s words.
Thomas waved a hand. “We went fishing.”
Lazarus frowned. “Fishing? After the Lord appeared to you?”
“Yes, my friend. For he vanished again, and after several hours, Peter announced he was going fishing and we looked around at each other, not knowing what to do, and several of us got up and left with Peter.” Thomas flashed his grin again. “We did well.”
This was something Lazarus could identify with. “How many fish did you catch?”
“We fished all night and in the morning had caught nothing. Then we saw a figure on the beach. He said, ‘Children, have you any food?’ and we answered, ‘No.’ Then he told us to cast the net on the right side of the boat and we would find some. We did, and suddenly we could hardly draw the net for the abundance of fish. John looked back at the beach and cried out, ‘It is the Lord!’”
Mary looked at Thomas, her face alight with joy. “He appeared to you again.”
“Yes. Peter jumped into the sea and swam to shore and the rest of us rowed the boat, for we could hardly drag the net for all the fish. When we got to the shore, there was a fire of coals and some fish laid on it, and bread.” He turned to Mary. “He actually ate with us.”
Martha was still puzzled. “How could he actually eat? He was dead and then alive, but he actually ate with you?”
Martha Page 17