Chapter
Ten
LAZARUS was something of a celebrity, and the curious crowds filled the narrow streets of Bethany to capacity. They waited half the day to catch a fleeting glance of Lazarus.
The people talked of him as a man who had cheated death, and some even believed that if they could see him, or better still, touch him, they too would cheat and rob death of its victory. His fame grew, and exaggerated stories of Lazarus's experience abounded.
At first Martha was filled with an exhilarated sense of well-being over all the interest. She desired that all who came to see Lazarus would become believers, as she had. But as the days wore on, the crowds increased, and her evangelistic zeal cooled.
When camel caravans were routed up the hill to her house, Martha's enthusiasm waned and then ebbed completely away.
Bethany was no longer a quiet, restful village, and what had been called a house of retreat, now became the town's center place for congregating — like the main well in some villages.
Mary found Martha outside their front gate one morning, busily attacking the large mounds of camel dung with her broom. Martha's face was stormy with a scowling frown.
"Martha, my sister," she called, ignoring all the travelers' and visitors' inquisitive stares, "don't be so angry with all this. Remember the greatness of their wonder. Naturally they have come hoping to see Lazarus with their eyes."
Martha kept flinging her broom at a stubborn pile and shouted back, "I am pleased with their reasons for being here, dear sister. It is what they leave behind that angers me!"
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Mary's bubbling laughter filled the courtyard and floated past the startled eyes of strangers.
As the spring season slipped luxuriously into its full-blossomed and ripened maturity, Martha, Mary, and Lazarus tried to ignore the crowds, and they rested well in the fact that Jesus' hideaway was still a secret. It was known only to a small faithful band of followers, and they reassured themselves that no harm had befallen him.
The council of the Sanhedrin, however, knew no such peace, and they were totally frustrated in their attempts to locate Jesus discreetly. Slowly the plotting men realized his hiding place would not be purposely or accidentally revealed to them; so they published an order. It decreed that if any man knew of Jesus' whereabouts, that man should come forth and reveal Jesus' location. The Pharisees were bold enough to publicly add, "So that we may seize and arrest this Jesus." It was reported that even their bribes had not yielded up Jesus' whereabouts, and rumors raged that Caiaphas and the council were seething in anger.
As the time of the Passover drew near, more people than just his close followers wondered if Jesus would leave his secret burrow to come to Jerusalem. Would he come, as countless other pilgrims, to ceremoniously purify himself from defilement before the great feast of the Passover? Would he, in fact, join the streams of caravans filled with Galilean Jews, knowing it would surely cause his death? Would he risk exposure and arrest for Passover?
Martha, Mary, and Lazarus pondered these and other questions on the rooftop in the cool of Bethany's evenings. Martha insisted Jesus would spend Passover with them even if he did it secretly. But each night's conversation left them pooling their own ignorance, and dawn's early sunrise found them tired and without answers or solutions.
The only thing they were sure of was that Jesus would be relatively safe during the day with great crowds of people surrounding him. The Pharisees would not risk the multitude's anger, especially when it was close to Passover time. But at night, that was the problem.
Claudius had told Lazarus that if ever they arrested Jesus at
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night, away from the throngs of followers, it would mean his certain death.
They wondered among themselves, and their apprehension grew with each day.
One morning, just seven days before Passover, their confusing speculations came to an abrupt halt with a loud, banging noise on their front gates.
"He has returned! I knew he would!" Martha bounded off her pallet. She pulled over her head the first tunic her hand found and ran for the front door.
Early rays of rosy sunlight were peeking through the trees in the courtyard as she opened the outer gates.
Disappointed but cordial, she greeted their neighbor Simon. "Peace be to you, good neighbor. What brings you here so early?" Martha asked.
He brusquely hurried in, caught her arm, and whispered fiercely, "May we go inside? I have news of the Master."
Once inside, Simon's words burst out of him like a long pent-up stream of water.
"First, Martha, Jesus was seen yesterday with a pilgrim caravan in the barren gorge which leads up to Jerusalem from Jericho."
Simon turned his head away from Martha as he talked. It was an old habit he found almost impossible to break.
Only two years ago Jesus had stretched out his hand and touched Simon. It was a simple fact, but because Simon was who he was, the act carried with it a sentence of exile. Simon's body bore all the mutilating marks of the scathing, loathsome disease called leprosy. His fingers had been slowly eaten away, and his hands had become nothing more that stiff, useless claws. His feet were scarred with ulcers, and they were so badly deformed that he could not walk without the drooping feet buckling under him. His nose, once large and regal, had collapsed and disappeared beneath the surface of his skin. The absence of his eyebrows and his heavily wrinkled skin joined together to confirm the ugliness and stigma of his disease.
Yet with one unhesitant, unconditional hand, Jesus touched him, and Simon, once unclean, rejected, and even superstitiously
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feared, was made instantly whole. In that moment, Simon had gingerly examined his fingers, feet, face, and found to his amazement that everything had been restored to its original completeness in one touch, as if they dared not hesitate for a second to do Jesus' bidding!
When he had been pronounced clean again, Simon had resumed living with his family in Bethany, and since his kinsfolk were Jerusalem merchants who worked on the same street as Martha's father and uncle, the bond of friendship was strong between the two families.
Still, he turned his head when he spoke, implying that he was even yet unclean and full of leprosy.
Martha gently touched his face and turned it to her. "You always forget you do not have to worry over such things anymore. Now speak directly to me, as I do not want to miss anything. You said you have news of Jesus?"
His smile was apologetic yet warm, and thus reassured by Martha's acceptance, he spoke directly to her, ignoring his years of lepers' customs.
"Yes, early this morning I found Jesus' caravan, and he told me he will part from his train of pilgrims. I think some of the pilgrims will enjoy the hospitality of friends in the city, and others will set up booths or tents in the valley of Kedron or the western slopes of the Mount of Olives. But Jesus said he will come here — here to Bethany."
"I knew it!" Martha gasped, daring not to believe all of this, but desperately wishing it were so. "When?"
"Tomorrow night, just before sunset commences the Sabbath."
She hugged him impulsively and said, "Oh, we must tell the others, and I must make a great feast." She was about to begin cooking and cleaning the already spotless house when Simon caught her arm.
"Is there something else?" Martha questioned, fearing for a moment that all the news was not good.
"Only that..." he hesitated, for he had eaten at her house, knew her reputation as a hostess, and was not too sure her reaction would be pleasant. "While you are to supervise the
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entire feast, for your abilities are well loved by the Master and all of us..."
"Yes?" she leaned forward, interrupting him.
"I asked Jesus if the dinner could be given at my house up the street. I have never shown my gratitude for all he has done for me, and I wanted..."
"Oh," Martha laughed in breathless burst of relief. "Is that all? Of course, dear Simon, we will grant your request. It will be at your house, and I shall see to the food; so the feast will be the finest in all of Bethany!"
Then with more insight than he knew he possessed, he tilted his head to one side, and looking at her thoughtfully, he said, "Martha, you are skilled in cooking, serving, and seeing to others' needs, but somewhere along the way you have acquired the gracious grace of genuine hospitality, and I salute you, my neighbor."
She was unaccustomed to compliments concerning her behavior, especially as to having "gracious grace," but seeing that he was serious, she meekly replied, "I thank you for noticing."
As quickly as possible, Martha escorted Simon out the door and through the courtyard to the gates, so she could rush back to tell everyone the news.
The day passed in a rush of furious activity, involving trips to the market and continuous trips from her cooking area to Simon's house and back again. Mary was recruited to get containers full of water; so they'd be ready for flower arrangements the following day. Lazarus and Joseph were dispatched to take all the wooden stools up the hill to Simon's house, for an overflow of guests was expected, and everyone was pressed into a flurry of flying feet and busy hands. Their exhilaration approached the point of silly childish giddiness, but such was their joy, and they abandoned themselves to the enormous task of the banquet.
By late afternoon, the day of the banquet, Martha had whipped everything into perfect order.
The cucumbers, leeks, and onions were all washed and scrupulously free from blemish or dirt. Both plump ducks, picked clean inside and out, and a large selection of quail were
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securely fastened to the roasting spit, and already their juices were dripping and hissing onto the bright coals below, making a delicious aroma.
Joseph brought in two wineskins from their underground cellar cave, and Martha pointed both him and the skins in the direction of Simon's house.
Mary cut and artistically blended the long flowering branches of tree blossoms into her readied pottery jars and bronze vases to make Simon's house a house of color and fragrance.
After the richly brown crusted fowls were taken up to Simon's, the final touch was added by Martha. She took her assortment of small bowls to add to Simon's table, and when that was accomplished, the banquet was ready.
Martha had worked as hard as she ever did in planning and executing such a feast, but Jesus' words about her serving and, somehow, her experience at the tomb had taught her some special lessons. Remembering the dire consequences of fatigue, she saved time to rest and refresh herself.
There was even a sweet time with Mary, involving whether Martha should wear the blue dress with the darker blue bib and girdle or the flaxen-colored one with its brightly embroidered green accessories. They laughingly chose the flaxen one for Martha, because the green girdle reminded Mary of the bright yellow green of spring and of Lazarus's fresh new life! The two sisters laughed together as if they were little girls playing their game of hide and seek once more.
Finally, when they were all dressed, the two sisters and brother made their hurried way up the hill four houses to Simon's, but it was not the usual quick easy walk.
Somehow, between word of Jesus' suspected arrival and the unbridled curiosity concerning Lazarus, many people thronged the streets. Passage through them was almost impossible. Then someone recognized Lazarus, Martha, and Mary, and the three thought they'd be trampled to death.
By some high-stepping maneuvering, they managed to get to Simon's house and were relieved when the gates opened magically, and Simon's arm reached out and pilled them quickly into his garden.
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The house had no separate place for dining, but it was spacious, and the table was set up in the large common room. Martha's quick glance before she and Mary reached the cooking area confirmed that all was ready, and her face glowed with satisfaction.
They were both arranging some dried fruits on large trays when a servant boy breathlessly told Martha that Jesus and his men had arrived.
The women hastily took off the towels around their waists and went to greet the guests. Martha was impressed and humbled by the assembly of men before her.
Jesus and all of the twelve disciples were there as well as a few faithful believers. Among others, there were distinguished men like the Rabbi Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea. Martha nodded her shalom to Andrew above the heads of Matthew and James, but in all the hubbub she knew she would have to wait to actually speak to him.
Simon and some of his servants were all given to the washing of feet and hands, and greetings were warmly being exchanged when Mary and Martha slipped up behind Jesus and touched his arm to make their presence known.
Martha would remember later that night, after everyone was settled on their pallets or in their sleeping quilts, how startled Mary's face had been when Jesus turned around to greet them. Mary's lovely skin had turned ashen in color, but there was no time to ask what she saw in Jesus that troubled her; so Martha simply greeted Jesus and then, excusing herself to the cooking area, left them together.
There was no decision to be made as to who the governor of this feast would be, for Simon himself put the specially made robe upon Jesus and led him to the bench of honor. However, surprising Lazarus completely, Simon motioned that Lazarus should sit right beside Jesus as the next honored guest. It was a splendid beginning, and Simon's broad, beaming grin grew even wider as the first of many courses began to be served.
Martha was absorbed in her delegating duties and pleased beyond reason that everything was going exactly as it should. This was a new feeling for her. She was actually loving every
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moment of all the scurrying about, the comings and goings of the servants, and her ears were gently stinging with the lavish praise the guests were pronouncing about the food.
For some time she did not notice Mary's absence, and then, when she did, she caught sight of Mary slipping through the back entrance carrying one of the family's all-too-familiar boxes of perfumes and burial ointments.
"Why have you gone home for that?"
But her question to Mary was lost because Naomi shoved a large tray of roasted duck into Martha's hands and said, "They need this." Martha took the tray into the large room and was immediately immersed in many duties, and her questioning of Mary was pushed quickly out of her mind.
It was toward the end of the meal, after the big woven basket trays of fruit had been served, that Martha came to a dead halt and stood motionless as a statue to watch her sister.
Mary had never looked so strikingly beautiful. She was wearing a long, full-sleeved tunic which was the fragile shade of apricots, and the girdle at her tiny waist was a lavish tribute to her embroidering skills.
The pale, delicate coloring of her dress contrasted harmoniously with her flaming golden-red hair, and she was enchanting to see, but all who were present were quite unaware of her exquisite face and form. In fact, most of them did not see her clothes, her hair, or even her delicate, fair skin, which was stretched over her high cheekbones in flawless beauty. They only saw the tears. Mary, for some reason, was unable to contain her weeping and her lovely blue eyes were spilling out her sorrow. The tears were streaming down her face now in a torrent.
As Martha and the others watched, Mary softly but purposely walked over to where Jesus was eating and stood behind him. Carefully she broke the seal on the alabaster box she held and then removed one of the glass vials. After she set the box on the floor, she broke the vial and poured its redolent contents of Indian spikenard into her hands. Without spilling or wasting a drop of the precious ointment, Mary let it slowly spill first over
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Jesus' head, and then, kneeling down beside him, she massaged it gently onto his feet.
No guest spoke or moved. Even Peter, who usually gave a running commentary to most everything that happened, was unexplainably mute. Nor did Jesus himself protest verbally or make any physical move to stop her.
Martha searched Jesus' face and thought she saw what seemed to be a look of resigned sadness as he alone understood the full meaning of Mary's actions.
It was clear from their faces that none of them understood why Mary had used her burial ointment. Martha's heart constricted a little at the sight of the box. Of all the treasured things her father had provided for his children, the three alabaster boxes filled with rare and costly perfumes, to be used at the time of their deaths, were among the most precious.
Lazarus's box is empty, and now so is Mary's, thought Martha, but, like the other guests, she remained silent and watchful, unable to comprehend the significance.
As she watched, Mary deftly undid her hair. With one or two quick movements she slipped out the pins and small comb that held her hair which was coiled at the nape of her neck. In one breathtaking second the silken red tresses spilled out and over her shoulders, catching all the dancing lights of the lamps and candles in the room. They all saw this, and there were heard gasps of appreciation.
Mary seemed oblivious to everyone's presence save Jesus', for in one exquisite moment of self-abandonment she bent her head and with her long flowing hair dried his feet.
Mingling her tears with the precious spikenard, Mary was unaware of the others, her family, or the genuine treasure of fragrance which was now filling the entire house.
Years later they would say of the night that the feast was memorable not because of the large number of Jews who thronged to witness it, not primarily because of Jesus' visit, or the newly returned-to-life Lazarus, but because of a woman's prophetic act of loving sorrow which signaled and marked the beginning of the dark and dreadful end for Jesus.
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Martha saw the whole drama played out before her with new eyes of love. Mary, with her dazzling beauty, her bell-like singing voice, and her creative hands, was always the center of attention. For years Martha was known only as "Mary's sister," and sometimes, when she stopped to think about it, she felt a few shivers of resentment as they crept about in her mind. But everything inside her had changed that day at the tomb. It was as if her love for the Lord had been a smoldering, smoky ash heap flame. She was free to love — especially Mary — as she had never been able to before. If they called her "Mary's sister" that would be alright. In fact, it would be most pleasing, and she sensed a newly found pride.
Martha found herself acquiring a surprising taste for patience, and for the first time she began to understand her desire to be of comfort to the sick and dying instead of merely applying a poultice or brewing an herbal remedy. But most of all she had discovered some brand-new characteristics in herself: like singing the song which bubbled within her, or feeling a new development which involved a risk — that was the decision to give herself in love to others. She became more tolerant of people, and to her surprise, she began to accept them as they were without imposing on them her frantic desire to change them.
So it was, as Martha watched with eyes of love her sister's simple act of humble adoration, her heart beat with love and pride in an unexpected tempo.
Martha was so engrossed in the beauty of the scene that she was in no way prepared for the reactions of others present in the room that night.
She overlooked the fact that most of the Galileans who followed Jesus were unaccustomed to any luxury. They were terribly aware and genuinely concerned about the use of the costly contents of the alabaster box. Their amazement that the precious gift would be intemperately lavished and wasted on one brief moment knew no bounds. After the stunned silence had ebbed away, they could not contain their anxious grievances any longer, and a murmur began to rise from all corners of the room.
Seated right behind Martha was the loudest voice of all. He
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had his back turned to her, talking with the others, when in a sudden burst of agitation he spun around and stood just an arm's length away from her.
He was one of the carefully chosen men named Judas Iscariot, and his pink cheeks, framed by a cherubic round face, gave no indication of the depths of his inner ugliness. Older Jewish women patted or pinched those cheeks in chucking admiration, but the dark rumors about his being a petty thief never ceased.
"This is not a gesture of love, but an odious, repulsive act of waste!"
Martha's mouth dropped open, aghast at Judas's blatant pronouncement. She could not begin to understand the vehemence in his voice as he continued.
"That perfume was worth a fortune."
Martha, very well versed in money matters, having discreetly carried on her father's vineyards, olive groves, and sheep herds, quickly assessed the value of the spikenard at three hundred denarii. By Martha's standard of wealth it was certainly not a fortune, but just as she thought that, someone she could not see said reproachfully, "It must have cost three hundred denarii. And we know one denarius is a whole day's wage for a laborer."
Judas was shaking his finger at Mary's bowed figure bending over Jesus' feet.
"Think of that. Three hundred denarii! It should have been sold, and the money is given to the poor and to the destitute!"
Martha's cheeks were burning although she did not know why. She was glad Mary had done what she did, but there seemed to be some truth in Judas's scathing words.
Andrew rescued her and her thoughts by gently pulling her down to sit on a low stool he had found.
"Oh, Andrew, I know not what to think," she whispered.
He leaned over, and in a sarcastic tone of voice she had never heard before, he said quietly, "This is the first time I've ever heard of Judas's concern for the poor. I wouldn't pay too much mind to him. I have a feeling he speaks out of guilt from some malicious or perhaps wasteful deed of his own."
It was a shocking thing for Andrew to say about one of the brethren in the closely knit group, and Martha would have questioned
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his accusing manner, but Jesus spoke.
He held his hand on the top of Mary's still bowed head and, looking directly at Judas, said, "Let her alone." His voice was inexpressibly sad.
Martha sat looking at him and thought it was as if he would not permit Judas's worldly indignation to spread any further among the listening disciples. Nor did he seem willing to let Mary, already the object of unfavorable looks, suffer any more consequences from her noble act. Martha was always amazed at his ways. Whether there was a mob of people or one person, Jesus spoke with complete understanding.
"Why do you trouble the woman, Judas?" His look pierced Judas's soul, and the angel-faced man, deflated by truth itself, sank down upon his bench. But Jesus was not through; so, moving Mary gently aside he stood up and addressing them all, he said, "Mary has done a good and beautiful thing to me. As to the poor..." he pointed his finger to the people assembled there and said patiently, "you will always have the poor with you, and whenever you wish, you can do good to them. But you will not always have me."
Then, looking down at the small, crumpled figure of Mary by his feet, he nodded toward her, and his voice filled with a tenderness which would later haunt their memories as he compassionately said, "She has done what she could. In pouring this ointment on my body, she has done it to prepare me for burial. Truly, I say to you, wherever in the whole world this Gospel is preached, what she has done here tonight will be told in memory of her."
The friends and followers of Jesus sat still, hardly knowing what should be said or done next. Martha felt Jesus' words had delivered yet another deathblow to her expectant messianic hopes. Almost as if with one mind, the guests began to understand no earthly wealth would be realized, and Martha clearly knew certainly no kingdom or regal elevation could be attained by following one who was so soon to die.
Peter agitatedly pulled at his beard while shaking his head no. James, Philip, and John huddled together, whispering. Others sat still, trying to fathom it all.
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Since she could think of nothing to say, Martha, puzzled as the others, began cleaning away the large trays. Most everyone sat quietly murmuring among themselves as she stepped in and around them, but she continued to gather the trays in an effort to keep busy, thereby avoiding the thoughts of sadness which were once more pushing in around her. She could never understand how quickly things changed around Jesus. One moment it was supreme joy to see him; the next moment would bring sorrowful questions.
Martha was just about to walk through the doorway to the cooking area when she collided with Judas. The tray with leftover fruit on it spilled all over before she could catch it.
"Out of my path, woman," he snarled as he struggled to keep his balance. Finally catching himself against the wall, he righted himself and gingerly stepped through the mess of fruit and trays about his feet as he ran for the back entrance.
Both Peter and Matthew saw the incident, and Martha looked at them questioning, "What does that offensive man have to do with you disciples? You are not like him."
Matthew bent to help her as she picked up stray fruit and scattered trays.
"I do not know, Martha, but our Lord chose him, and he is one of us," Matthew said stoically. Then kindly he said, "Which one of us, Martha, least of all me, a tax collector, knows the depths of Jesus' love or why he chose any of us?"
It was a gentle rebuke, and she accepted it meekly.
Peter walked to the doorway, peered out after Judas, and then came back. He was as thoughtful and as quiet as Martha had ever seen him, and she listened carefully when he spoke, "I don't know about him," Peter said.
"Judas's suggestion has not only been thwarted; he has been publicly silenced and implicitly rebuked. He looked as if he had been seized by a monstrous madness. Judas is a man who harbors grudges. I wonder what desperate or evil deed he will undertake to avenge his humiliation tonight." Wordlessly Martha picked up the last of the trays and retreated to the cooking area until all was cleaned and put back into order. She would leave it to the men to sort it all out.
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The next morning she greeted the dawn with sleepy eyes and heavy limbs. It seemed that Saturday morning's sunrise came earlier than expected to Martha. It had been way past the midnight hour before she bedded everyone down for the night. Simon's house was too small for everyone to stay; so many of the disciples spent the night at her house. As she peered out of her latticed window, she saw many people gathered in the street and muttered, "Well, what new and surprising thing will this day bring?" Then, brightening a little, she said out loud, "As David said, 'This is the day the Lord has made, and I will rejoice and be glad in it!' " Her thoughts added, Even if I don't like all those people milling about out there.
Evidently Jesus' presence in Bethany had become general knowledge overnight, and consequently everyone guessed that after the Sabbath, he would most certainly enter the Holy City. Martha could sense the feverish excitement which was already running through the crowds even though Saturday's sun was barely over the first hills. The day was spent quietly in spite of the growing excitement, and Jesus conversed with them as easily as he taught them.
At the dawn of Sunday's sunrise, Jesus, all his disciples, and a few neighbors gathered at Martha's house for a light morning meal.
Mary hurried out back to the cooking fires and said to Martha and Naomi, "After we break bread Jesus is going into the city this morning. He said he will teach in the temple today."
Naomi continued to place the hot barley cakes in a large flat basket, but Martha stopped abruptly. "Does he not understand the seriousness of Caiaphas's and the Sanhedrin's charge? He will be arrested, and who knows what hideous fate awaits him."
"I think he knows but the knowledge seems only to make him more determined," Mary said quietly. Then she shocked Martha to her very core when she said, "I want us to go with him this morning. We are his family here, and we should stay together in case there is trouble."
"But the crowds of people..." Martha sputtered, "I do not fear arrest, but I do fear the thought of being trampled to death!"
"Martha, we of all people, because of Lazarus, have the most
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reason to be loyal to the Master. We must go with him, not to protect him, we would be of little help, but to put feet to our love."
Her argument could not be denied; so it was decided that after the meal, they would accompany Jesus into Jerusalem.
Their meal together was short, but there seemed to emerge a graceful fellowship between them. A sweet holy peace enveloped each of them. It was short-lived.
The crowd outside the gates gave a great shout of recognition when they glimpsed Jesus coming through the flowering trees of the courtyard. They were ready and prepared to receive and welcome this Deliverer who had raised Lazarus from the dead. But Martha had seen the fickle ways of a mob before down in the bazaar of Jerusalem, and she knew their minds were capable of praise one moment and stoning someone to death in the next.
They started out on foot with Jesus in front, flanked on either side by Peter and Andrew, but almost instantly the crowd swallowed them up, and Martha lost sight of Jesus. Once, momentarily, she glimpsed Andrew's deep red hair over the heads, but the surge of people was so great that nothing remained in one place for very long.
Almost immediately Lazarus was separated from them. So Martha determined she and Mary would stay together, and tightly she gripped her sister's arm.
Martha knew all about the three roads that led from Bethany over the Mount of Olives to Jerusalem. One pass was between the northern and central summits; another way ascended the highest point of the mountain and sloped down the other side; the third road, which was always referred to as the main road, swept around the southern shoulder of the mountain's center and lay between it and the Hill of Evil Counsel. Since the first two routes were more mountain paths than roads, and Jesus was surrounded by disciples, friends, and crowds. Martha was relieved when he took the third route. It is easiest by far and today, thought Martha, we will need all the ease we can get.
The crowd of people grew in size almost immediately. It was a little frightening because people were shoving and jostling each other for a better glimpse of Jesus.
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Martha heard a whole group of them chanting Lazarus's name off to her right and wondered where he was and how he was faring in all the commotion.
With the palm and cypress trees of Bethany behind them, they went south and approached some large fig gardens. The fig trees were the only thing Martha could see, but she knew instantly the small village of Bethphage was near.
By some maneuvering between excited men clamoring for a look at Jesus, curious women and children, and bewildered disciples, Martha finally pressed in a few paces behind Jesus. He was talking to Peter and John. She searched the crowd for Lazarus and Andrew but did not find them. Then she heard Jesus say something about going into Bethphage and bringing back a colt. Peter was saying, "But Lord..." and then above the shouting she heard Jesus clearly say,
"If anyone asks what you are doing, you simply answer, 'The Lord needs it and will send it back soon.' "
Peter and John nodded and pushed their way out of the tightly compacted circle around Jesus and went off to the village.
Everyone milled around, some asked questions of Jesus, if they could get close enough. Others strained for one look and then excitedly described Jesus to their friends standing by.
To Martha's mind it was an impossible circus, and she questioned she had ever agreed to come.
Mary's face was glowing, and Martha could not imagine why. "Mary, how can you be so calm? This crowd is madness itself. One minute they are practically kissing Jesus' hand, and the next they are nearly trampling him and us to death."
"But these people," said Mary, gesturing to the crowd around them, "are believers! They know he is the Messiah. Surely you would not deny their happiness at being here, would you?"
"Believers?" Martha snapped. "No, I think they are only pilgrims here for the holy week, bored today, and seeking any entertainment they might find."
Mary had no chance to answer because Peter and John were back with a young white colt.
When he reached Jesus, Peter took off his outer garment, threw it over the colt, and helped Jesus up onto its back. "He
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means to ride into Jerusalem on the back of a young, probably unbroken colt?" Martha gasped.
As if it were a signal of trumpet blasts, the crowd seemed to know a triumphal procession had begun.
No sooner was Jesus mounted when the many people around him took off their outer garments as Peter had and spread them in a tapestry path before him. They began lifting up their voices in praise, and their spirits were absolutely jubilant.
Mary looked at Martha for one long moment and mouthed the words silently, "See, they are believers!"
Whatever they were or whatever they had was contagious, because Martha, shaking her head and smiling, joined in the praising.
Many people tore or cut down olive, fig, and walnut boughs from the trees which grew in abundance in Bethphage and scattered them before him. Even the disciples put away their long faces, and without stopping to fathom the whys of the crowd's jubilation, they too joined in.
Martha, Mary, and all those about them burst into exuberant shouting:
Hosanna to the Son of David!
Blessed is the King of Israel
that cometh in the name of the Lord!
Hosanna in the highest.
Everyone caught up the joyous strain. Many in the crowd began telling marvelous tales of Jesus' acts, and others told how Jesus had raised Lazarus. "Yes, even that one," they said as they pointed. Martha managed to glimpse Lazarus with James and John. He waved a quick hello, and then suddenly everyone was moving.
The road before them sloped by gradual ascent up the Mount of Olives through the green fields and under shady trees, until it suddenly swept northward. It was there at that angle of the road, the magnificent city of Jerusalem burst into everyone's view.
Martha was a little breathless from the climb, but the sight of the city always robbed her of any breath she had left. Both
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sisters stood on the crest of the hill trying to capture its loveliness forever in their minds.
There, before them on that sparkling clear day, rising out of the deep shaded valleys which surrounded it, the city of ten thousand memories stood outlined before them. The morning sunlight as it blazed on the marble pinnacles and golden roofs of the temple building blurred their visions with fiery splendor.
Such a glimpse of such a city was at all times deeply touching, and no Jew could pass that spot without voicing his praise. But that day with Jesus their emotions were too heartfelt for speech as they stopped to gaze. Even the ever-growing, noisy crowd quieted. It was then in the clear morning's stillness that a loud cry cut the air. The first cry was followed by wailing, sobbing sounds.
"It is Jesus who cries!" said Mary, her face ashen white.
Up until now, Jesus had sat majestically but completely silent in the midst of all the adulation. He neither smiled, nor frowned, nor commented, but his large grey blue eyes were wide with the reality of scriptural fulfillment.
Martha heard Jesus and said to herself, Always there is mystery about him. One moment we are rejoicing that this is the Messiah, but the next moment we are not too sure. Does a Messiah or king weep over his kingdom? She wondered.
Martha did not understand why, but while Jesus had wept silent tears at the grave of Lazarus, now he wept aloud. It sent a cold chill down her back in spite of the hot, sunny day.
He not only wept, but his voice choked and broke into a passionate lamentation. It was a strange messianic triumph and a confusing interruption in the midst of festive hosannas.
Someone behind Lazarus shouted, "The Deliverer weeps over a city which it is now too late to save, and the King prophesies the utter ruin of a nation which he came to rule!"
Jesus, still weeping, exclaimed, "Would that you had known personally even at least in this, your day, the things that make for peace!" Then sorrow interrupted his words, and when he found voice to continue, he could only add, "But now they are hidden from your eyes. And it is too late." Every person was now listening intently to Jesus.
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He stretched forth his arms in the direction of the great golden temple and said, "For the time is coming to you when your enemies will throw up ramparts around you and will encircle you and besiege you and your children within you to the ground and will not leave you one stone on another, because...," here he paused for a moment, shaking his head in great sorrow. "Because you did not understand when you were divinely visited."
Jesus finished his lamentation, and without question, they knew the pause in their procession was over. Puzzled and filled with rising doubts, they continued their walk.
Martha and Mary moved away from the center core of the large group and made their way to one edge of the crowd as they descended down into the valley.
They could see a multitude of people below them. There were people from all over Israel camped down in the valley of Kedron and about the walls of Jerusalem. Almost at once the pilgrims whose booths and tents stood so thickly on the green, grassy slopes below caught sight of the approaching company, and they knew immediately who it was that traveled towards them. A cry of recognition spread among them.
The people tore down the green and graceful branches from the great forest of palm trees which surrounded Jerusalem, and they streamed up the road to meet the Prophet. Soon the two companies of people met — those who had come with from Bethany and those who had come from Jerusalem. Amid many waving branches and shouted hosannas, they accompanied Jesus into Jerusalem.
Martha and Mary were caught between both groups and once more a great wave of joyous shouting went up, and again Martha felt it was a circus run wild.
"See, they love him too." Mary was confident no harm would come to him with such loyalty and affection.
"But the mood of a crowd is ever changing," Martha's thoughts grew dark.
Both Andrew and Lazarus caught their arms and for the rest of the walk, they accompanied Martha and Mary.
When they reached the walls, the whole city of Jerusalem was stirred with powerful excitement and alarm.
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"What is this?" the citizens asked, peering out of their latticed windows, looking down from roofs, and standing aside to let them pass through the narrow bazaar streets.
To her dismay, Martha heard someone answer hesitantly, "I think it is Jesus, the Prophet of Nazareth."
She wanted to shout up to them in their windows and ignorance, "It is Jesus of Nazareth alright, but he is the Messiah, our long-awaited King."
However, the words stuck in her throat. What's the matter with me, she wondered. I know he is who he says he is. So why is this foreboding fear gripping my soul and paralyzing my speech?
Is this shadow of uncertainty and fear falling on everyone else? She questioned herself and searched Mary's face to find answers, but Mary was busy. She was excitedly talking with Claudius.
He has ridden up with other soldiers, spotted her, dismounted, and now was listening to her as she described their walk from Bethany.
Later Martha, Andrew, and several others would mark that day as a day of Zechariah's prophecy fulfilled, for he said in the Sacred Writings, "Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your King shall come to you, righteous and victorious, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey."
But at the time within the city gates and walls on that bright sunny day, it was safer and wiser to say Jesus was merely a prophet from Nazareth.
Martha and several of those who followed closely were beginning to feel the first real pangs of doubt, and a dull kind of disenchantment began to set in.
Martha's heart was sore afraid. online books christian books
