Martha

by Diana Wallis Taylor

  The people murmured among themselves and some cried out, “Certainly not!”

  Then he looked at them and said, “What then is this that is written: ‘The stone which the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone’? Whoever falls on that stone will be broken; but on whomever it falls, it will grind him to powder.”

  A priest standing about ten feet from Martha curled his lip in disgust and turned to a fellow priest. “He speaks this parable against us. He continues to incite the people, this rabbi from the rabble.”

  Just then a servant came up to the first priest and whispered a message in his ear. The frown on the priest’s face turned to a triumphant smile as he nodded. With one last glance back at Jesus, the two priests turned, and brushing people aside in their haste, went to the side door of the Temple.

  The shadows lengthened and Martha needed to return home to prepare for the Teacher and those with him. The two women slipped through the crowd. Lazarus would wait a few moments and then leave separately.

  Martha knew Jesus would come for the evening meal, and then possibly retreat to the Mount of Olives with his disciples for the night. She sensed he needed a quiet place away from the village.

  Jesus and his disciples had come in separate small groups to attract less attention. They had covered their faces with their cloaks as Lazarus had done and left Jerusalem at dusk.

  After supper was over, there was a knock at the gate and all eyes turned anxiously in that direction. Lazarus cautiously opened the gate and Simon entered the courtyard.

  “Peace be upon this house.”

  Lazarus let out the breath he was holding. “Peace be upon you, Simon. Enter our home and welcome. We haven’t seen you in several days.”

  “I have been preparing my household.” Simon stepped into the house and stood near Jesus, who was reclining on a cushion at the table.

  “Lord, do you remember saying that the next time you were in Bethany you would be guests in my home?”

  “Yes, Simon. I remember saying that.”

  “Will you come tomorrow evening after you have taught in the Temple?”

  “Thank you, Simon. We will come.” His eyes twinkled. “I’m sure Martha could use a respite from cooking so many large meals.”

  Simon turned to Lazarus. “You and your family are also welcome. Be my guests tomorrow.”

  “We would be glad to join you. Thank you for your kind invitation to my family.”

  Simon turned to go, but then stopped. “There may be a few people you don’t wish to see. Two of the Pharisees are coming.”

  Jesus shook his head. “That is no matter, Simon. They are your guests also.”

  Simon clasped his hands together, and a smile spread across his face. “Thank you, Lord. My household will look forward to tomorrow.”

  Martha and Mary went early to see if there was any way they could be of help to Judith and Chloe. Mary had a wrapped bundle under her cloak, but Martha assumed it was something for the meal.

  Evidently Simon’s wife and daughter-in-law had been preparing the meal for days and Martha found she could just be a guest. She and Mary sat and were entertained by the chattering of Simon’s small granddaughter, Reza, now a beautiful child of three.

  The two Pharisees, Elidad and Pedahel, arrived, and Elidad immediately looked for the best seats at the table but they were already taken by Jesus and Lazarus at Simon’s request. The Pharisees took the seats indicated with reluctance, plainly considering them inferior.

  Judith and Chloe had prepared dilled cucumbers with olives and goat cheese, squash with capers and mint, lamb and lentil stew with coriander, bread, fruit, fig cakes, and wine. It was indeed a feast and the disciples ate heartily as did Jesus and Lazarus.

  Once, when Judith was putting another bowl of the stew on the table and removing the empty one, Martha, at another table, happened to look at Judas and observed him glancing warily at Elidad. When Judas turned to look her way, she occupied herself with the food on her plate and kept her face bland, as though she had not seen them. What did it mean? Did the men know Judas?

  Just as the men finished their meal and were talking among themselves, Mary suddenly came and knelt at Jesus’s feet. She was holding an alabaster flask. Martha’s eyes widened. It was the flask of costly spikenard left over from the anointing of their brother Lazarus. So much had been donated by sorrowing friends and neighbors, they had saved the small amount left over in the storeroom. Before anyone could move or say anything, Mary poured the oil over the feet of Jesus. Then she began to wipe his feet with her hair. As the fragrance of the oil filled the house, the guests were too astonished to speak. Martha cringed in embarrassment, but before she could do anything to cover her sister’s debasement of herself, Judas Iscariot spoke up, his voice dripping with scorn.

  “Why was this fragrant oil wasted? It might have been sold for more than three hundred denarii and given to the poor.”

  Elidad and Pedahel also began to criticize Mary.

  Jesus gave Judas a piercing gaze, silencing him, and the man sat back with a sullen look on his face.

  Looking around the room, Jesus spoke sternly. “Let her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a good work for me. For you have the poor with you always, and whenever you wish you may do them good; but me you do not have always. She has done what she could. She has come beforehand to anoint my body for burial.”

  There was murmuring among the women, and the men appeared puzzled.

  “Assuredly I say to you, wherever this gospel is preached in the whole world, what this woman has done will also be told as a memorial to her.”

  Their lips tight in disapproval, Elidad and Pedahel suddenly rose, thanked Simon curtly for the meal, and left. Before they went out the door, Elidad gave Judas a hard look and followed Pedahel into the night. Martha glanced cautiously around at the disciples to see if they noticed Judas, but they were occupied with watching Mary. Once again, Martha shrugged off the uneasiness she felt around Judas. She was imagining things.

  Mary was now sitting back on her heels, smiling up at Jesus, and he was speaking softly to her.

  Martha sat perfectly still, her hands clasped in her lap. For once she didn’t know what to do. Should she help Mary up? Should she leave them alone? To her relief, Thomas solved her dilemma. He got up and came around the table, reaching down to gently help Mary to her feet, his eyes alight with awe and love. Mary glanced at her brother, her eyes pleading with him to understand.

  Martha held her breath and watched Lazarus. Would he rebuke her? She put a hand to her breast and waited. Lazarus sighed and said, “It’s all right, Mary.”

  Thomas drew Mary to the far side of the courtyard and talked animatedly with her. Martha watched them and her frown deepened. Then her attention was distracted as she saw Jesus rise from the table. His disciples also stood.

  “Thank you, Simon, for a fine meal.”

  “It was my pleasure, Lord. Thank you for gracing my humble home.”

  The disciples also murmured their thanks to Simon and began to walk toward the gate. Martha realized they would be returning to the Mount of Olives, perhaps to prepare for the Passover that began in two days.

  As the disciples went on ahead, Thomas left Mary’s side and waited by the gate as Jesus turned and did something unusual for a rabbi. He embraced first Lazarus, but then also Mary and Martha.

  “Thank you for the hospitality you have shown me so many times over these last few years. Your home has been a haven for me after long hours on the road.”

  Simon raised his eyebrows at this display of affection between an unmarried man and woman. He cleared his throat, glancing at the two women.

  “You and your disciples are welcome any time, Lord.”

  “Will we see you at the Passover celebration, Lord?” Martha asked, after regaining her composure.

  Jesus gazed into the night in the direction of Jerusalem and she saw him lift his chin. “You will see me at Passover, my friends.”


  It was obvious that Thomas wished to speak to Lazarus, and Martha reluctantly went on ahead with Mary as Lazarus and Thomas walked slowly together, talking quietly. Martha tried to listen in spite of herself, but could not understand their words. She glanced at Mary, who also looked back from time to time.

  Martha sighed heavily. She had a hunch she knew what the conversation was about. She also knew Lazarus would talk to her when they got home.

  The men ended their conversation and Thomas caught up to Mary.

  “I will see you again, as soon as it is possible.”

  He looked down at her face and Martha saw Mary’s heart in her eyes. The love between the two young people was almost tangible.

  “Goodbye, Thomas,” Martha said pointedly, and seeing Martha’s face, he nodded and, with a whispered “Goodbye,” hurried to catch up to the other disciples.

  When the three of them arrived at home, Lazarus asked Martha and Mary to join him in the courtyard. Mary’s face was alight with anticipation.

  “You spoke with Thomas, Lazarus?”

  “I believe you know that, Mary.” He cleared his throat and looked down at Mary’s hopeful face. “Thomas has asked for my consent to make you his wife. I must confess I have not sought to arrange a marriage for you. So much has happened this last year.”

  Martha knew this was not unexpected, having observed Thomas and Mary together over these last months, but her mother instinct was strong. “What of Thomas, my brother? He has no home that we know of, no income. How would they live?”

  Mary turned to her sister, her lovely face alight with love. “God will take care of us, Martha.”

  Lazarus appeared to choose his words carefully. “You are aware . . . Mary, that in the eyes of the elders of our village I am . . . uh, the male head of the household. You and Thomas may not marry without my consent.”

  Mary’s face fell. “You will not give it, Lazarus?”

  “Mary, I would be happy to give my consent, but your sister has a valid point. How and where would you live? Would you travel the road with the disciples like a common woman, sleeping on the ground, not knowing where your next meal is coming from? How could I face the elders if I allowed such a thing?”

  “Many of the disciples are married, Lazarus, and Thomas has told me their wives travel with them from time to time. When they cannot go, they stay with relatives.”

  Martha sighed. “We have not seen any of the wives with the disciples when they have come here.”

  “They do not wish to place an additional burden on those who host Jesus and his disciples. Sometimes they stay together at the home of a friend or relative. There are many women who travel with Jesus. They help pay expenses out of their own means.”

  Martha’s eyes widened. “Their means? How do these women earn money?”

  “They sell goods, as you do, in the marketplace. They prepare meals on the road.” Mary regarded her sister earnestly. “They are all good women, believers. One of Jesus’s followers is Mary Magdalene, an older woman that Jesus cast seven devils out of. She is a widow who has an income from the business of her late husband. She buys them food and sometimes lodging in cold or rainy weather.”

  Lazarus stroked his beard thoughtfully. “You would agree to such a life, Mary?”

  “I love him,” she said simply.

  Martha shook her head. “Love cannot enter into this, Mary.” She looked meaningfully at her brother. “Must you make a decision right now? Could you not wait until Passover has ended, when you can speak with Thomas more fully on this matter? Would that not be wise?”

  A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, Martha, that would be wise.” He lifted Mary’s chin with one finger. “I will speak with Thomas after Passover.”

  Mary clasped her hands. “Thank you, Lazarus, thank you.”

  Martha got up and began to do the evening chores. Mary hurried to help her. The two sisters did not speak, but Martha found Mary glancing at her from time to time. When their household was in order, Mary laid her pallet down and sank onto it. In a few moments, she was asleep.

  Martha sat by Lazarus in the courtyard, the chill winds of winter cutting through her cloak. “What are you going to do?”

  Lazarus sighed and studied his hands. “I don’t know. I have no wish to break Mary’s heart, but as you have pointed out, Thomas has nothing to offer her. I cannot let her go to live from hand to mouth on the road.”

  “Perhaps Thomas has assets we do not know about.” In spite of her reservations about Thomas, Martha also had no desire to break her sister’s heart. She deserved a home and children.

  “True. Perhaps he has a home and family somewhere and would take her there.”

  Martha knew they were both trying to consider the positive aspects of Thomas’s suit, but as they returned to the house and unrolled their own pallets, Martha wondered in her heart if they could let Mary do this. If Thomas was not the right choice for Mary, Lazarus must stand firm and seek another husband for Mary. Martha lay down and folded her arms. Yes, Lazarus must stand firm. She would make sure he did.

  21

  Martha, Mary, and Lazarus journeyed once again to Jerusalem for the solemn festival of Passover. Lazarus wore the dark cloak to make himself less noticeable in the crowd. He was still plagued by people who wanted to see him, and he hated being an object of curiosity.

  Hanniel and Sherah welcomed them warmly as usual, but Martha could see that Sherah had little strength. Simon and his family went elsewhere this year. Martha had looked forward to seeing her friend Esther, but so far they had not appeared. She remembered Judith telling her that Esther was expecting another child. Perhaps she was unable to travel. Martha had hoped to share with the one friend she could be herself with. Disappointment weighed heavy on her spirit.

  Word came to Mary from Thomas that Jesus and the disciples would celebrate Passover in a room that would be provided for them. Martha considered Mary’s words about the women who helped Jesus and his disciples. Her thoughts tumbled about. Perhaps if she talked with Jesus after Passover about Thomas? She shook her head. That was not her place, it was her brother’s. Surely he would talk with the Lord and find out more about Thomas.

  Lazarus and Hanniel took their sacrificial lamb to the Temple and brought the slain animal back to be roasted. As the family waited for the lamb to roast, and the familiar dishes were placed on the table for the Passover meal, Martha struggled with the heaviness that weighed on her heart. Ever since Mary had anointed the feet of Jesus at Simon’s home, she had a feeling of impending doom. Jesus spoke of his death. She couldn’t believe that he meant actual death, but why would he have welcomed Mary’s anointing with the spikenard?

  Martha worked in a daze, the joy of Passover eluding her this year. So much had happened to their family.

  Sherah came and laid a wrinkled hand on Martha’s arm.

  “You seem troubled, my dear. Can I be of help to you?”

  Her kind eyes searched Martha’s face, and Martha felt tears rise up and threaten to spill onto her cheeks. Sherah was a wise woman who had lived nearly sixty years. Martha suddenly felt the loss of her mother again and longed to talk to someone who would understand. As Sherah continued to smile up at her, Martha nodded her head slowly.

  Sherah led the way into the house and shut the door. As they sat down on some cushions, the floodgates opened and all Martha’s fears poured out as she unburdened her heart. She told Sherah of her fears for Lazarus, the heaviness she felt over Jesus and recent events, and finally, her concerns for Mary. They talked a long time and Martha felt a heaviness lift from her shoulders as she listened to Sherah.

  “These are things for you to leave with God, Martha. You cannot stop the wheel of destiny from turning, and does he not know all things? He will show you what you are to do and what is best for Mary.”

  Martha nodded her head, listening quietly. She embraced the older woman and resolved to pray diligently to seek their God in the matters that troubled her.

&
nbsp; The next morning Martha and her family rose to return home to Bethany. The Hillel had been sung at the stroke of midnight, ending the Passover ceremony. Martha felt better for having shared her concerns about Mary and Thomas with Sherah. The older woman’s words rang in her ears. “This is a matter for God to handle, Martha. He will show you what to do.” How hard it was for her to relinquish her concerns to God. She and her family had been the recipients of a great blessing, the friendship of Jesus, and the miracle of Lazarus restored to them. Why was it so difficult to trust? She had held the reins too long. As she said her morning prayers quietly, she gave her concerns to the God Who Sees, the one who had the answers she sought.

  Sherah gave her a warm smile as they took their leave, and Martha smiled back, glad to have been able to talk with her.

  As they journeyed through the city, Martha, Mary, and Lazarus looked around and at each other. There was a strange pall hanging over Jerusalem. People were hurrying to leave, but their faces were guarded, frightened.

  Lazarus wrinkled his brow. “Something has happened.” He turned to his sisters. “I’m going to talk with a few friends in the marketplace. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  Martha started to protest, but Mary took her arm. “We must do as our brother has asked. It is not safe in the city. I have felt it all morning.”

  Spotting Simon and his family, Martha felt better about having someone to walk with on the journey back to Bethany.

  Simon was not his usual robust self. He too seemed anxious to get his family out of the city as soon as possible.

  “Simon, do you know what has happened?”

  “No. So many rumors are flying around I don’t know what the truth is. Someone told me that the soldiers finally caught up to Barabbas. He is in prison even as we speak.”

  “I will feel safer traveling, knowing he is no longer in the hills.” Suddenly she felt better. That must be it. “Lazarus has gone to talk with someone he knows. He will bring us word.”