Martha

by Diana Wallis Taylor

  She wondered how many in Bethany had seen the cloud in the form of a man’s hand, like a benediction, hover over Mount Olivet, waiting to receive the Lord as he rose out of their sight. She would no doubt have to field questions when she went for water.

  Then there was Mary and Thomas. She knew now that they were meant to be together and had the Lord’s blessing, as well as that of her brother. How brave they were, going off into an uncertain future.

  Gradually a thought worked its way into her subconscious. She didn’t want to think about it, but she could no longer deny the truth. She was alone. Lazarus was gone, for all intents and purposes. Mary was gone. All her life she had managed things, yet had Mary and Lazarus to help do their share. Alone. The woeful sound of the word that slipped out suddenly filled her with apprehension. What was she to do now? Could she handle the fields, the olive grove, the fig trees by herself? No, but she was sure she could get neighbors to help her with those things. She would have to pay wages for some of the work or pay them in kind. It was here that she felt it the most; no one at her dinner table to serve, just her and the animals. Her face became flushed with heat and tears pooled in her eyes. She didn’t want to be the strong one anymore. She wanted someone to help share the burden.

  She rose and looked around for something else to do. She could make some barley gruel. It would last her for a couple of days. Determined not to feel sorry for herself, she went to the storeroom and gathered some cloves, barley, some lentils, and an onion. She had no meat until she went to the marketplace. It would be fine without meat.

  As the gruel was cooking, she wondered if Nathan had returned from the city and had been able to sell her rugs. She needed supplies and she’d given all the coins to Lazarus.

  As the day waned into sunset and then twilight, she realized Nathan was not going to come, at least not today, and busied herself with cleaning her platter and banking the fire for the next day’s cooking.

  When the sun finally set, she stood a long time, looking at the emerging starry sky. She prayed for Lazarus, wondering where he was spending this night and how far he had gotten. He’d promised to send word back to her when he arrived in Damascus, but she didn’t know how long it would take to get there. Had he made it safely past Jerusalem? Had he found a caravan to travel with? She could only wait and pray.

  She thought of Mary and Thomas. There would be other women in the upper room to watch over her, Thomas had promised. Mary Magdalene, Mary, the mother of the Lord, and the wives of other disciples. She wasn’t sure what the Lord had told them to wait for, only “tarry until they were given power from on high.” What kind of power did the Lord mean? She remembered that when the Lord had sent the twelve out to minister in his name, they had come back rejoicing at the miracles that had happened. Thomas had told Mary of many people healed, just because they prayed in the name of Jesus. What move of God was happening in the upper room? No doubt Mary and Thomas would be back to share with her.

  A cricket chirped by the house. It was a cheery sound as she checked the animals and secured the gate. The animals moved in their pens as they settled down for the night. She stroked the soft muzzle of the donkey, and as he nuzzled her hand, she felt he missed the one who usually fed him too. She studied the she-goat with her bloated stomach. The kid would come soon. She must keep an eye on the mother, she thought, remembering a time when a kid was trying to be born and it was breech. She had used her slender hands and arms to turn the baby around and it had been born healthy. Her father had praised her highly for what she’d done and she’d basked in his praise.

  She secured the door of the house, but as she put the bar in place, she realized how seldom they had actually used it when Lazarus was there. Long after the lamp had been blown out, she lay in the darkness and listened to the owl call to his mate. It seemed to her a haunting sound.

  28

  The next morning she rose quickly, surprised that she had actually slept. She thanked the God Who Sees for watching over her and added her morning prayers. She had just bound up her hair when there was a knock at the gate and she heard a familiar voice.

  She hurried to unlock the gate. “Good morning, Nathan.”

  He stepped hesitantly just inside the gate and glanced around the courtyard.

  “Is anyone else here?”

  “Mary has gone to Jerusalem with Thomas . . .”

  He frowned. “There is danger in the city for all the disciples.” He shrugged. “But they are married. She must go with him.”

  “Nathan, Lazarus has gone.”

  “Gone? Where?” The big man’s face registered his confusion.

  She smiled at him then. “Yesterday was a very eventful day, one I can hardly believe myself.”

  He stood, awkwardly, surely aware that he, a single man, was alone with a single woman in her courtyard. Before he could protest, or make his escape, she began to tell him what had happened . . .

  “He left for Damascus yesterday. John told him the High Council was arranging for his death. He had no choice. Thomas has relatives in Damascus. They are believers and he urged my brother to go there for safety.”

  His shoulders sagged. “I hoped the rumors were not true.” He glanced at the gate, appearing ready to step out should a neighbor pass by.

  He looked back at her. “I have heard other news, of strange sightings in the city and that Jesus is alive . . . that others have seen him.”

  “Oh Nathan, if only you could have been there. He called the four of us to the Mount of Olives . . . it was as if we heard the words in our heads. We went there and there he was.”

  “Jesus?”

  “The Lord and Messiah. The disciples were with him and his clothes, Nathan, it was as if they shone like the sun.”

  His face was suddenly eager. “You saw him then?”

  “Yes. He told the disciples to wait in Jerusalem until they received some sort of power from on high, and then he just rose in the air.”

  “Like a ghost?”

  She smiled. “No. He was not some apparition. He showed us the nail prints in his hands and feet. He let me put my finger in the wounds of his hands.”

  “How did he rise up in the air?”

  “There was a cloud, in the shape of a man’s hand above him. He just left the ground and entered into the cloud and was gone.”

  Nathan’s face registered astonishment, then his shoulders sagged. “I would have liked to have been there.”

  She felt his disappointment and went on quickly. “He said the disciples would receive power when the Holy Spirit came upon them and that they shall be witnesses for the Lord in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.”

  “Did he say he would return?”

  She shook her head in wonderment. “Oh yes, Nathan. We were standing there, looking up into the heavens when two men in white apparel suddenly stood by us. They said that this same Jesus who was taken up into heaven, will come again in the same way.”

  Nathan digested her words solemnly. “Then we must do as he has told us.” He stood for a long moment, contemplating the words of Jesus. Then all of a sudden, he seemed to remember that they were alone. He backed hastily out of the gate.

  “I’m sure your sister and Thomas will return soon. Is there, uh, anything you need?”

  “I’m going to be all right, Nathan.” She resisted a smile. He was ready to bolt. “I will have more rugs to sell in Jerusalem in a day or two. Whenever you or Tobias are going into the city.”

  “I will be glad to do that.” With a curt nod, he hurried down the street toward his shop.

  She shook her head as she watched him striding away. Would she ever understand Nathan? That man needed a wife. His wife had been gone several years, yet he had not remarried. He had many good qualities—a gentle nature, hardworking, and as she considered it, not an unattractive man. Yet he continued to live alone. Perhaps an unhappy marriage had soured him on taking another wife. She knew of one or two women who had looked his
way with interest, but he resisted any overtures. Even the village matchmaker had thrown up her hands in frustration.

  “How can one deal with such a man!” the woman had lamented.

  How indeed, Martha mused.

  As the day progressed, Martha began to consider how she would manage. Neighbors would help with the flax harvest, but who would sow the crops? Lazarus had done that. She and Mary had made goat cheese and the date cakes together. In time there would be the grape harvest and the figs to pick. Then there was the wine. She could not make it all by herself.

  All her life she had been the capable one, planning, organizing, taking charge after their father died. Then she had Lazarus, young and strong, to handle the hard tasks. She eased herself down on the bench in the shade and felt herself torn between anger that her family would leave her like this and feeling more vulnerable than she had ever been in her life.

  29

  The second day after the Lord’s appearing, she hoped for word from Thomas and Mary, but there was none. Martha began her daily task of sweeping the courtyard, still musing over Nathan’s strange behavior. She realized he could not come and join the family for dinner anymore. There was no family, just herself. It wouldn’t be proper.

  Nathan had been such a loyal friend to the family through the years. Somehow appearing when they seemed to need him the most. She thought back to the incident with Thaddeus. Lazarus told her Nathan thought she was in trouble when she ran into the olive grove, and then he’d seen her with Thaddeus. He’d been curt with her after that and left for Capernaum for several months. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was jealous . . .

  She paused in her sweeping as a curious thought edged its way into her mind. He’d been a friend of her father’s, though half his age; a friend to Lazarus, like an older brother, and while he was careful to follow decorum, always there. She remembered that once when Jesus was teaching and Nathan had come to listen, she caught him looking at her. An innocent look to be sure, but something else. He’d looked away quickly but not before she’d seen the wistful look on his face. She was busy serving as usual and didn’t think any more about it, but now other scenes began to take their places in her mind.

  She sat down suddenly on the bench as realization dawned. Was she the reason for Nathan’s reluctance to choose another wife? Had she been so busy running her household she hadn’t considered that he might have feelings for her? That he was too shy to present himself, or felt she wouldn’t be interested?

  Turning the thoughts over and over in her mind as one examines a coin, she contemplated her feelings for Nathan. Just a friend of the family? A big brother? She was always glad of his comforting presence. She felt safe when Nathan was around.

  She liked him. Waving a hand in the air, she got up. This was foolishness. There was work to be done. She’d let her mind rattle on long enough.

  She went to the storeroom and brought out a basket of wheat kernels, then sat down on a mat on the ground and poured the kernels into the small rotary mill she used for grinding. It felt good to move the wheel, giving her a sense of accomplishment as the flour began to appear. When she had enough flour for the bread, she added water and yeast and began to knead the dough.

  She built up the fire in the mud brick oven and set the loaves to rise. She’d made the usual two loaves, and now as she looked at her work, she realized she only needed daily bread for one person, herself.

  Her thoughts strayed to Nathan again. He would be restricted in coming to the house with no one else there. She had counted on his help with Lazarus gone. Even though he was a longtime friend of the family, the situation had changed.

  She slid the loaves into the oven. If Nathan was interested, he’d had plenty of time to speak up. She shook her head. This was nonsense. She was imagining things just because she was lonely. The matchmaker was persistent, and in time she’d wear Nathan down and find a wife for him. Then he would certainly not be able to be of any help to her.

  She chided herself for letting her fears run rampant. Only the God Who Sees knew what he had in store for her. Did he not know her coming and going? Having settled the matter in her mind, she went to water the garden and take an inventory of the storeroom.

  That afternoon there was a knock on the gate and Nathan once again stood in front of her. “Peace be unto this house.”

  He shifted from one foot to the other but was obviously uncomfortable. Martha understood his dilemma and smiled up at him encouragingly.

  “Will you come in and sit down? Can I bring you some refreshment?”

  “Uh, no, I came to . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “I, uh, came to see if you had any weavings to go into the city.”

  “I don’t have anything completed as yet, Nathan.”

  He rocked back on his heels. “Uh, yes, I forgot.”

  “Was there something else?”

  He scratched his head. “Uh, do you have news of Mary and Thomas?”

  What was the matter with Nathan today? It was not like him to come to their home without a purpose. “No, I’ve not had any word.”

  He pondered that thought. “I was wondering, what will you do now? Will Lazarus return?”

  “I don’t know. Lazarus might be able to return when things quiet down, but not until the danger to him has passed. I don’t know how long that will be. I am hoping that when whatever the Lord asked the believers to wait for has come, Mary and Thomas will come back here. The Lord’s admonishment was to go into all the world. I don’t know what they will do from there.”

  “You will be alone. That is not good.”

  “I can do little about it, Nathan. I must trust God to show me what to do. There are many in our village who have become believers.” Since she had not given this any thought, she was surprised at the next words that tumbled from her mouth. “I was thinking that we could meet together, to pray and strengthen one another.”

  The idea seemed to appeal to him. He nodded his head. “Yes, that is a good idea.” He looked down at her and there was something in his eyes. “You are a good woman, Martha, given to hospitality. I think the Lord would be pleased.”

  “Would you come, Nathan?”

  “Yes, and others in the village would come.”

  He shifted from one foot to another. What was bothering him?

  “I must get back to my shop. Goodbye.” He backed away a few steps.

  “Wait, Nathan,” she said suddenly and went to get one of the loaves she’d baked. She handed it to him.

  “Thank you.” He looked at the bread as if it were a wondrous gift, then turned abruptly and hurried down the street.

  She stood at the gate, puzzled. Then, tired of doing household tasks, she picked up the basket and went out to the garden plot. It was a beautiful spring day. The morning glories grew in profusion around the fields and mixed in with them the deep blue of the pentagonias, imparting a blue tint to the ground around them. Early tulips had pushed their magnificent red flowers up from ancient bulbs. She picked some and added them to her basket. A little color around the house would be cheerful.

  As she took in the beauty all around her, a sense of longing welled up in her again. She wanted . . . what was it? She wanted family around her again, someone to cook for, to hear laughter and voices in the courtyard again.

  In the garden she picked some leeks and garlic, and a cucumber. The pomegranates beckoned to her from the tree, and she put two in her basket.

  The day passed with still no word from Jerusalem, and she ate a quick supper, cleaned up the platter, and banked the fire in the small clay stove. There was nothing else she wanted to do, so she sat in the courtyard, saying her final prayers of the day, remembering Lazarus, the disciples, and Thomas and Mary.

  Tomorrow she had decided to go and visit the home of Simon. Judith was a good friend, and Tobias’s wife, Chloe, was expecting another child. They would welcome her.

  As she walked toward the gate to secure it, there was a firm knock
and a voice called out, “Peace be upon this house.” It was Zilpah, the village matchmaker.

  30

  Martha opened the gate and stared at Zilpah, then remembered her manners. “Come in. May I fix you some refreshment?”

  “Perhaps a cup of . . . ?” Zilpah looked at her hopefully.

  Martha for once was flustered. What could Zilpah possibly want here, now? Did she know about the wedding or had she come to speak to her about Mary?

  She went to the storeroom and got a small wineskin, pouring the wine carefully into a wooden cup. She took some cheese from the stone crock. Placing the cheese on a small platter, she set the cup of wine in front of Zilpah and waited. Knowing the woman, she would get around to the purpose of her visit in her own time.

  Perhaps if I help her along, Martha thought. “Mary is not here at present, Zilpah.”

  “I didn’t come to present a proposal to Mary.” Zilpah gave her a sly look and almost purred. “I came to present a proposal of marriage . . . to you.”

  Martha sat down suddenly on the bench. “To me? But I am . . .”

  “Yes, yes, past the most marriageable age. But I have been approached by a worthy man of the village. Naturally, under your circumstances—your brother gone and your sister off with . . .”

  “She is with friends in Jerusalem, Zilpah. She has not run off. She is wed to Thomas.”

  Zilpah’s eyes widened. “I did not know this.” Zilpah prided herself on knowing everything that went on in Bethany. She recovered her composure. “Well, that is another matter.” She waved a hand dismissing Mary for the moment. “As I said, it is you I have come to see. Now you realize you cannot be choosy at this time of your life.”

  Martha resisted a comment and kept her lips tightly closed.

  Zilpah went on. “This man is a widower, no children, and has a good business so he is able to provide for your household. He would be a fine husband.” She paused for effect.