Martha Read online

  As the lentils cooked, she added coriander seeds, bay leaves, salt, and vinegar, along with olive oil and garlic.

  Mary no sooner completed one task when Martha gave her another. “See how many date cakes we have in the other stone jar.” She looked heavenward and prayed there would be enough to go around. There were fifteen cakes. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  True to her word, Mary had fed the animals, saving Lazarus time. He quickly set wooden cups and pitchers of wine on the table.

  There was a gentle knock at the gate. They were here!

  Lazarus opened the gate.

  The rabbi smiled warmly. “Peace be upon this house.”

  Lazarus welcomed Jesus and his disciples to their home. Martha glanced at the men who traveled with Jesus. They looked weary and she regretted her unkind thoughts earlier. Could she not show hospitality to a man of God and his followers? When had they last had a good meal? With renewed vigor, she went about her tasks.

  As the men settled in the courtyard, speaking quietly among themselves, Jesus smiled at Martha. “It is good of you to let us partake of your bounty. Let me introduce my disciples.”

  As Martha stood quietly, Lazarus came to stand by her side. Mary hurried over to join them.

  “This is Matthew, our record keeper. He used his pen for Herod once, gathering your hard-earned money, but now he writes down what he sees for our records. We couldn’t do without him.”

  Matthew was a burly man, not tall, but with a piercing gaze that told Martha he missed little around him. A tax collector? Martha held the smile on her face. Obviously the man had made a great change in his life to follow Jesus. Matthew nodded to them.

  “This is James and his brother John, my sons of thunder. Once they fished the sea, but now they are fishers of men.”

  The two men smiled in acknowledgment. Martha could see the family resemblance in their dark auburn hair, their almost square chins and bushy eyebrows that shadowed piercing brown eyes. They were like two controlled bodies of energy, and she had no doubt that Jesus had to keep an eye on them.

  “This is Thomas.”

  The young man grinned at the three of them and bowed his head briefly in acknowledgment. Martha noted that his eyes rested the longest on Mary. To Martha’s dismay, Mary was returning his gaze with delight. He was almost as tall as Lazarus, with curly black hair that threatened to cover his eyes. His smile was warm and open and Martha found herself liking him.

  “This is Peter and his brother, Andrew. They were also fishermen and still help to feed us when we are near the sea.”

  Andrew gave them a friendly smile. Martha sensed that he was a trustworthy man who said what he thought. Peter, on the other hand, was a big man with great arms from hauling in fishing nets. His dark hair, barely held back by his headband, threatened to spill into his face. Martha sensed power there, subdued perhaps around Jesus, but she wondered if he had a temper. He wouldn’t be a man to be crossed.

  Jesus waved a hand at each of the next four men. “These are Philip, Nathaniel, James, the son of Alphaeus, and Simon, formerly a zealot, who now serves the kingdom.”

  Suddenly two men entered hastily through the open gate, interrupting Jesus. “Peace be on this household.”

  Jesus sighed. “And this is Judas, son of James, and our treasurer, Judas Iscariot.”

  Martha noted the young Judas and found herself wondering what his mother thought of him traipsing all over the country with an itinerant rabbi. He beamed at her and she returned the smile. Then she observed the other Judas. The one Jesus had called Iscariot. His face was bland and frown lines were visible around his mouth. He had a bag of coins tied to his girdle and looked warily at Lazarus. He acknowledged the three but did not look Martha in the eye. He glanced around the courtyard as if assessing the value of their possessions and home. She decided he was a man to watch. It also occurred to her to wonder why he was following Jesus. He seemed uncomfortable and found a quiet place to sit alone and observe them all.

  When the introductions had been made, Lazarus invited their guests to gather around the table. Jesus asked a blessing on the food and the household that had welcomed them. Mary brought out bowls of water for the ritual hand-washing, and finally they began to eat. The women hurried around the table, setting out food. The men broke the bread and passed it around. As they tasted the dishes Martha had prepared and dipped their bread in the lentil stew, there were smiles of appreciation.

  As Mary helped serve, Martha saw Thomas observing her sister with open admiration. When he glanced up and saw Martha watching him, he busied himself with his food.

  Then, as Mary placed a basket of raisin cakes on the table in front of him, he gave her such a beaming smile that it almost brought tears to Martha’s eyes. She thought of when she and Thaddeus had first met and the warmth that filled her unexpectedly in an instant. If it was so with Thomas and Mary, nothing could come of it. He was traveling the road with Jesus and probably had little to his name. Nevertheless, with thoughts of Thaddeus in mind, she spoke gently to her sister.

  “Mary, would you bring the basket of almonds from the storeroom?”

  Mary looked up and their eyes met. Martha was sure Mary had no idea what she was thinking, but Mary gave her a smile of such understanding before she turned away. Martha stood still a long moment before her thoughts came back to the present, and she placed the dish of olives she was holding on the table.

  When all had eaten their fill and had as much wine as Lazarus could offer, the men leaned back with the ease of well-filled stomachs and talked among themselves.

  Lazarus reclined at the end of the table near Jesus. Martha was so busy serving that she wasn’t able to hear what they were talking about. Lazarus was looking at Jesus with adoration. For a moment Martha felt a jolt of fear. What if Lazarus decided to become a disciple and leave their home to travel about the country with Jesus? She came closer and, with the pretense of seeing if they needed anything more, tuned her ears to their conversation.

  With sudden clarity she realized Jesus knew what she was thinking. He looked up at her and she was aware of a sense of kindness and great love.

  She glanced over at Mary, who was talking to Thomas in a corner of the courtyard. The two young people looked up at her briefly as if sensing her gaze. Then Lazarus spoke to Jesus, and the words caused Martha to turn back with alarm.

  “Master, let me follow you. I want to go with you.”

  Martha’s heart jolted within her. She wanted to cry out, No, we need you here. I cannot do it all myself. Sudden tears stung her eyes. She kept her head down lest anyone see she was upset but watched from the corner of her eyes, straining her ears to hear the Master’s answer.

  Jesus put a hand on Lazarus’s shoulder. “I know, my young friend, but you are needed here.” He became solemn for a long moment. “There will come a day when you will serve me, Lazarus, but it is not your time yet.”

  Martha’s relief was palpable. She hurried into the storeroom to have a moment to gather herself together.

  The disciples, enjoying a respite from long hours on the road, were in a mood to celebrate. Thomas pulled a kinnor, a small harp, from his sash and began to plunk its strings, sending a simple melody through the courtyard. Mary picked up her lyre and joined in the music. Jesus seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, his eyes dancing with the music. Martha suddenly felt like celebrating with them.

  As the hour grew late, Jesus rose from the table and his disciples, ever aware of his movements, rose with him.

  Martha hated to see him leave. “Master, you are welcome to sleep here.”

  “You are kind, Martha, and a generous hostess, but we will retire to the Mount of Olives for the night.”

  “Will you come again?”

  He smiled and she was lost in the depths of his eyes. “I must travel a long way, but whenever we are in this area again, we will come.”

  Lazarus came to the gate. “You are welcome anytime, Master. Our home is yours.”


  Jesus glanced over to where Thomas and Mary were talking quietly. “I believe at least one of my disciples has good reason to return also.” His eyes danced and Martha was filled with love for him—not the love she’d known with Thaddeus, but a holy love, deep and abiding. It didn’t matter what others said about him. She knew who he was.

  14

  After Jesus and his disciples left them to return to the region of Galilee, Martha and her family returned to their regular tasks. Everyone praised God to think that Jesus had come to their village. Many who had loved ones who were sick or infirm asked anxiously if Martha knew when Jesus would return. She could only shake her head.

  Lazarus worked the fields and continued to make bricks for the village, but Martha was aware that he traveled into Jerusalem as often as he could to glean news of Jesus’s travels. There were those coming south who were only too anxious to share what they’d seen and heard. Martha marveled as Lazarus shared the stories of the blind receiving sight, the lame healed, demons cast out. Her eyes widened in astonishment as Lazarus told her of two people who had even been raised from the dead.

  As the family sat quietly in the courtyard one evening, Lazarus sighed heavily. “There is other talk, sisters. He is angering the religious leaders everywhere he goes. He shows them up for the callous and unfeeling windbags they are. Whitewashed bones, he calls them. Now there is a rumor that the Sanhedrin is looking for a way to get rid of Jesus.”

  Mary gasped. “Would they do him harm? Have him arrested?”

  Martha was irate. “He’s done nothing wrong, except heal the sick and preach about the kingdom of God.”

  Lazarus nodded. “I know, but since the priests cannot live up to the prophecies, they feel they have to get rid of this prophet. There is trouble brewing, I can feel it whenever I walk about the city. Those who follow Jesus’s teachings are watched with suspicion.”

  “Are we in danger, Lazarus?”

  “I don’t think so, at least as far as I know. We can only watch and see.”

  In an attempt to lighten the heavy mood, he turned to Mary with a slight grin. “Have you heard from Thomas?”

  Mary blushed. “He sends me word when he can. He and the other disciples were with Jesus near Capernaum but starting for Galilee again. I don’t know where they are right now.”

  Lazarus rose. “That is good. They are heading south. That means they will return here, I’m sure of it.” He yawned and stretched. “Time for a good night’s sleep.” He turned to Martha. “Are your weavings prepared for tomorrow? I’ll take them into Jerusalem with me.”

  She nodded. “They are ready. Perhaps tomorrow you will have more news of where Jesus and his disciples are.”

  Martha looked toward Jerusalem and remembered the first time she heard Jesus’s voice. He told her he was coming to her house that day, and he did. Now, with a certainty in her spirit, she knew he was coming again, and she and Mary set to work getting ready for his arrival. With an almost unspoken agreement, Lazarus moved out of his father’s room and it was prepared for Jesus. A comfortable pallet, a small table, and her father’s oil lamp. One of Martha’s best woven rugs was placed on the dirt floor and Mary brought in a jug of field flowers to be placed in the corner of the room.

  Martha was anxious for news of the Master, and when Lazarus returned from the city, she hurried toward him. He stood with his head down in the open gateway.

  Martha stopped suddenly. “What is wrong? What have you heard?”

  He looked up at her and shook his head sadly. “Herod has beheaded John the Baptist.”

  Martha felt like someone had struck her in the chest. “Why did he do that? He left him alone for so long.”

  Lazarus pursed his lips and closed the gate firmly, too firmly. “The daughter of Herodias, as wicked as her mother, danced for the king, and the drunken old man was so taken with her that he promised her anything she wanted. A servant girl from the palace said he promised her half the kingdom. She went to her mother, who told her to ask for John’s head on a platter. It appears the king couldn’t back down on his word in front of his court.” He sat down on a bench, staring at the ground.

  “I have a bad feeling about this, Lazarus. Wasn’t John the Baptist a cousin to Jesus?”

  “He was.”

  “Do you think the leaders are going to figure out a way to kill Jesus?”

  “That is the talk among the believers in Jerusalem.”

  Mary approached, having heard the last of the conversation. Her face was white with alarm. “Who is going to kill Jesus?”

  Martha put a hand on her arm. “Your brother was just saying that the leaders don’t like how he is portraying them, and word is they are plotting ways to get rid of him.”

  “Then he must stay away from Jerusalem, for his own safety.”

  Lazarus sighed. “That would be our solution, Mary, but Jesus will do what he feels led to do, even if it puts him in danger.”

  Martha turned her practical mind to a more basic issue. “What happened to the body of John?”

  Lazarus got up and started toward the animals. It was time to feed them. “His disciples came and got the body. They buried him,” he called over his shoulder.

  He will come, Martha told herself. He would need a quiet place away from the crowds, to rest and strengthen himself.

  Mary touched her arm. “Should we not prepare for the Master?”

  The two sisters prepared food and stored it away. Mary kept the room swept and clean, and the family waited.

  Then he was there, standing in their courtyard and greeting them warmly. Only three of his disciples were with him: Thomas, who was unmarried; Judas, son of James; and John. She looked past him, seeking the rest of his band.

  “They are with their families for a time.”

  Martha realized that she was glad that Judas Iscariot was not with them. His brooding presence last time had made her uncomfortable.

  Thomas gazed at Mary, who shyly lowered her eyes, but not before Martha had seen the gladness leap to her face.

  Lazarus embraced Jesus. “Master, I grieve for you over your cousin, John. We have heard of his fate and have prayed earnestly for you.”

  Jesus put a hand on Lazarus’s arm. “Thank you, my young friend. Your prayers are needed.” He gave Martha a grateful smile, seeing her concern. He also turned to Mary, whose eyes were full of love for him as she came and knelt at his feet with a bowl of water.

  “Master, let me wash the dust from your feet after a long journey.”

  It was the job of a servant, but Martha had no servants. She was tempted to say something, but recognized the rightness of Mary’s actions.

  Mary washed Jesus’s feet and then the feet of his three disciples, lingering on Jesus and then Thomas, who submitted reluctantly. She dried each set of feet with a cloth.

  Jesus looked down lovingly at her. “Thank you, Mary, for your kindness.”

  Mary gave a deep sigh at his words of praise and rose to empty the bowl of dirty water. She brought fresh water from their storage jar for all to wash their hands.

  The men reclined on cushions at the table in the house for the coolness of the month of Hesvan, the fall of the year, was upon them. Rains had been intermittent, and Lazarus had been busy plowing the fields and getting ready to plant the grain. Soon the olive harvest would be upon them when all three of the family would glean what they could from their small grove of olive trees.

  Martha had brought her clay cooking stove into the house and cooked in the room that would have been Lazarus and Shua’s. Lazarus had made an opening in the roof for smoke to escape, but the house was full of cooking smells.

  While Jesus exhibited his usual cheerfulness, weariness showed in his eyes. Though he laughed with them and listened to the stories Thomas and John told about the miracles Jesus had done, he seemed somehow detached from them, his mind elsewhere.

  Thomas was telling them about the trip into Samaria. “We tried talking him out of it, but he was adamant
. We didn’t want to go there, since we have nothing to do with the Samaritans, but the Master prevailed. He sat at Jacob’s well and waited while we went into town to buy food.” He looked around as the disciples nodded. “Let me tell you, I didn’t want to go into Shechem, but what were we to do?”

  Judas took up the story. “When we returned, there was the Master, talking with a Samaritan woman. We remained quiet, but certainly wondered why he was talking with a woman, and one alone at this well. It wasn’t even the town well.”

  Thomas shook his head. “We had a feeling she was a woman with a questionable reputation.” He glanced at Jesus, who was listening with a slight smile playing about his lips.

  Young Judas laughed. “Next thing we knew, she dropped her water jug and ran back into the town. We weren’t sure what was going to happen next, but in a short time she returned and brought half the town with her.”

  Mary broke in. “Did they mean you harm?”

  Thomas shrugged. “No, they wanted to hear what Jesus had to say. They even invited us to come into their town and tell them about the kingdom of God.” He shook his head, thinking about it. “We stayed two days, and many came into the kingdom because of the Master’s teaching.”

  Martha looked at Jesus with wonder. What an amazing man he was. Never had she met a man with such compassion and love for those in need.

  Story after story took up most of the evening. When the first stars came out in the gathering dusk, Martha went to Jesus. “We have prepared a room for you, Master. We—Mary and I—felt it was right. Will you stay?”

  The warmth in Jesus’s eyes was all the answer she needed as he looked up at her and nodded. He wished them a good evening and went into the room she indicated, closing the leather flap behind him. The other three disciples made their pallets as best they could in the main room, separating themselves on the other side of the room from Martha and Mary. Lazarus slept between the two groups for propriety’s sake.