Next morning,
they were off again toward Jericho, an old city fortress on the mountainside,
enveloped with picturesque images passed on, from generation to generation, reliving
the fall of its towering walls by enemy trumpets, back in King David’s time. After
hours of dusty, hot travel the caravan entered the city, to find repose and
replenish groceries. When people from the market place heard they were coming
from Galilee, immediate tales rippled through town, telling of how Jhesus, the
healer from Nazareth, had made the blind see again, just a couple weeks back.
He had become quite a gravitational reference point for believers, growingly
setting apart Hebrews from Romans. They told how he could he too, could turn
water into wine, make cripples walk, stop bleeding, heal lepers and those
possessed. Mary tried to ignore the gossip, happy to walk among them
unrecognized, both because Romans stood at every corner eavesdropping to see
who sided with whom, and extremist zealots were eager to exploit dissidence to
start confrontation, at the least provocation.
Suddenly, a
tattered little girl ran to Mary from under the mob. She pulled on her tunic,
responding instinctively to her sanctity. “Bubbe” she called Mary innocently… “My
momma is sick”, she started and pointed at a wretch, corned on the side of the street.
The woman crouched on the floor sat in a knot tightly holding her legs
together, fending off abdominal pain. Filled with compassion Mary heaved a
silent prayer which inexplicably touched the woman, turning immediately to
Mary, from the distance. Then, the little girl’s mother broke out crying as in
repentance, her pain, gone. The child ran back to her mother and cradled her in
her arms, as she turned to Mary in silent gratitude. Mary smiled, deeply moved,
and returned to her family busy buying goods in the market.
They were
only a couple hours away from Bethany, so the caravan took off as soon as all
had replenished their goods and bellies. It gave everyone on the cradling
carts, time enough to take a nap. Not much later, just before sundown, the
caravan edged its way into Bethany, home of Lazarus, Mary and Martha. News of
their coming had come in advance, so there was a quite a reception at the
town’s entrance, all greeting them with shouts that rejoiced at their arrival.
Everyone knew someone in Bethany.
Being so
close to Jerusalem, it was home to religious families and merchants, full of
hostels and lodgings and at much lower costs. As the travelling families
descended from the caravan going by foot to their relative and friends’ homes,
Mary, Sarah, Omar and the rest of the family were greeted excitedly by friends
of Lazarus, all yelling at the same time. It took a while to make out what the
excitement was all about. “Jhesus lifted Lazarus from death!” they kept
repeating in a frenzy. Far from surprise or admiration, Mary was mad. ‘Couldn´t
Jhesus be discreet about his miracles!’ she kept repeating to herself; her
anger rising from worrisome premonition.
They had
missed Jhesus by one day. Some of the disciples were still at Lazarus’ home,
ministering to his health. As they walked in, the women ran to Mary tending to
her needs and taking the things she was carrying from her. They offered all,
chairs and refreshing drinks; Jair continuing to carry packages and parcels.
When they had settled, Martha excitedly described what had happened.
Jhesus and
his followers had arrived at Bethany on their way to Pesach festivals in
Jerusalem, just the day before. Naturally, Jhesus went to see Lazarus, whom he
knew had been sick for a while. He was met at the door by his sisters crying in
desperation. “Lazarus died! Lazarus died and you weren´t here to cure him!!!”
they wailed with resentment. “We anointed him and you missed his burial” they
admonished bitterly. Lazarus, dear dear friend of the family’s had passed away.
Martha
continued, “Jhesus, visibly saddened, then asked to be taken to his burial
site. We hurried him on, expecting him to pray over Lazarus and repentant,
bless him on. But Jhesus pushed the stone aside from the grave site and walked
in. He took Lazarus’ limp hand and ordered him to rise…and…” Martha broke down
sobbing, and almost imperceptibly continued… “and Lazurus heaved a deep breath
as if awaking from profound sleep”. Silent astonishment set a tone of awe and
wonder at the miracle, just described. Deeply moved, Sarah went over to the
sisters, now both crying from gratitude. Mary got up and walked over to
Lazarus’ room. Mary Magdalene, the only woman following Jhesus and the boys,
opened the door. They hugged for a long while, as they shared common innermost feelings
of adoration, foreboding and deep pain for Jhesus. Mary longed for that
exchange; somebody who knowingly recognized the hues of her heart. Lazarus
opened his eyes and weekly called for Mary. She went over and kissed his
forehead kindly. Their eyes met through tears, penetrating deep into each
other’s soul. Mary stood, growingly soothed at his side. ‘Lazarus had gone
through the shadow of death and returned, healed by the peace and love that lay
ahead’ she thought in calm reassurance. It was surely a message that bore the
strength she needed to face the death, she so feared, that lay ahead.
Jair continued
carrying the luggage, and now, was carrying the palm sheaths… He interrupted, abruptly,
unknowing that the miracle of resurrection had just been disclosed. He said the
town people were gathering to go to Jerusalem, since Pesach was about to start,
and upon seeing the palm leaves, had asked him if they could take them. They said
they needed them to hail their king into the holy city. Sarah quickly took the
decision of giving them away, to avoid further disruption.
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