My Dear Father:
Your letter has filled me with joy that I can poorly express by my
pen. It assures me that you are certain to leave at the new moon, and
after a few days' delay at Gaza, that you will be with me not many days
afterward. This letter I shall send to meet you at Gaza.
In it I shall make known to you the particulars of the greatest miracle
of power and love above all those wonders which Jesus has done.
When Mary and Martha had despatched the message to Jesus, as I have
already stated, they began to be more cheerful with new-born hope,
saying:
"If our dear Rabbi, the holy Prophet, comes, he will heal him with a
word, as he has done so many of the sick."
"Yes, many whom he knew not he has restored to health by a touch,"
remarked Martha, "how much more Lazarus, whom he loves as a brother!
Oh, that the messenger may press forward with all haste!"
"If Lazarus should die ere he come," hesitatingly remarked my gentle
cousin, the wife of John the disciple, "he could bring him to life
again, even as he did the Son of the widow of Nain."
"Yes, without doubt, unless it were too late," remarked Martha,
shrinking at the thought that her brother should die; "but if he be
long dead it will be impossible."
"Nothing is impossible with Jesus," answered Mary, her eyes brightening
with trusting faith.
Thus the hours passed between mingled hopes and fears; but ere Jesus
came, lo! the mantle of death was laid over the face of their dead
brother. "Lazarus is dead, and Jesus is far away!" was the bitter and
touching cry made by the bereaved sisters, as they wept in each other's
arms.
The next day the burial took place, and yet no messenger came from
Jesus. The morning of the third day the man returned, and said that he
had found the Prophet on the farther bank of Jordan, where John had
baptized, abiding in a humble cottage in the suburbs of Bethabara with
his disciples.
The bearer of the sad tidings from the two sisters delivered his simple
and touching message:
"Lord, behold he whom thou lovest is sick!"
"And what said he--how did his countenance appear?" asked Martha of the
man.
"He betrayed no surprise, but said calmly to me, 'Son, I know it! This
sickness shall not be unto death. It shall be for the glory of God; for
hereby will my Father permit me to be glorified, that men may see and
believe truly that I came out from God.'"
"Alas! He knew not how ill his friend was," said Mary, "or he would not
have said it was not unto death, and would surely have hastened with
you."
"He has forgotten us," answered Martha. "He should be here to console
us in our deep affliction, though he came not to heal our brother."
"Nay, sister, do not think hardly of the blessed friend of Lazarus,"
said Mary, with soothing tones, as she caressed her elder sister. "I
feel that if he had seen fit he could have raised up our brother,
even speaking the word from Bethabara. It was not needful he should
see him to heal him, for dost thou remember how he healed Lucius, the
centurion's son? Yet at the time he was a day's journey distant from
him."
"Then why, oh, why, did he not save Lazarus?" exclaimed Martha bitterly.
"In that he did not, sweet sister," answered Mary gently, "it was for
the best. Did he not say to the messenger his sickness should be to the
glory of his power?"
"But not his death, Mary, not his death! He is dead four days already,
and how can the grave give glory to the power of Jesus? Will he raise
him up, since corruption hath begun, nay, begun ere we laid him in
the cold sepulchre? Oh, speak not to me of the Prophet! He loved not
Lazarus, or he had not the power to save him! Nay, leave me, Mary, to
the bitterness of my grief."
"Ah, dear Martha, how soon is thy faith in Jesus, when tried, become
naught!" said Mary, bending upon her, from her dark, earnest eyes,
looks of sad reproach. "Shall one day overturn your years of holy
friendship for him? Because he answered not our prayer to come to
Lazarus, think you he loved him not, and is indifferent to our anguish?
He is wronged by your reproof, and injured by your want of confidence
in his love and care for us."
While they were thus discoursing, one came running swiftly towards the
house, and breathless with haste, cried to them and to the Jews sitting
there, who had come to comfort them concerning their brother:
"The Prophet! The Nazarene! He comes!"
Almost at the same moment Elec, the Gibeonite, entered and said:
"Jesus, Messias of God, is at hand! He already entereth the village
followed by his disciples."
At this intelligence the mourners who sat with Mary and Martha in the
vine porch, rose up to go and meet him; but Martha, shrieking with the
reaction of sudden joy, sprang up and, more quickly than they, reached
the street, and flying with great speed, came where Jesus was.
Mary, who had received the news without betraying any other emotion
than the secret and holy joy of a heart that had confidence all along
in her Lord, instead of hastening to meet him rending her hair with
grief, like her sister, proceeded to prepare a room for the hospitable
entertainment of the beloved Prophet, when he should come in, thus
taking Martha's usual place; and when she had arranged all, she sat
down with me in the house, her heart filled with joy and her face
expressive of calm and quiet happiness.
When Martha had come near Jesus, whom she met just entering Bethany,
walking with four of his disciples along the dusty road, and looking
weary and travel-worn, she ran and threw herself at his feet, crying:
"Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died!"
Jesus taking her hand raised her up, and said with emotion, for he
seemed deeply moved by her grief:
"Death to those whom my Father loveth is sleep. The good die not!
Lazarus is not dead, but sleepeth, and he shall rise again!"
"I know, O Rabboni, that he shall rise again in the resurrection at the
last day."
Jesus then said to her, lifting his celestial glances towards heaven:
"I am the resurrection and the life. He that believeth in me, though he
were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me
shall never die! Believest thou this, daughter?"
"Yea, Lord, I believe that thou art the Christ, the Son of God, which
should come into the world. I know that whatsoever thou wilt ask of
God, God will give it thee, and that even now thou couldst bring
Lazarus back again!"
"Corruption and the worm have begun their work," said a proud and
unbelieving Pharisee near, on hearing this. "Whatever may have been the
state of the ruler's daughter, and of the son of her of Nain, Lazarus
the scribe, at least, is dead!"
To this speech Jesus made no reply, but turning to Martha, said softly:
"This day my Father shall be glorified, and the world shall truly know
that I am come from Him who is life and the giver of life. Go thou, and
tell thy sister that I am here, and would have her come and speak with
me."
Martha, then, overjoyed and wondering that Jesus should have known her
thoughts, so as to reproach her for her little faith as he had done,
hastened to her sister, and entering, cried:
"I have seen the Lord! He calleth for thee, Mary. Come and see him as
he sits by Isaiah's fountain, near the market-place."
Mary rose quickly and went out. Certain of her Jewish friends from
Jerusalem at that moment met her at the door, and began to comfort her,
and to ask her if they also should go with her to weep at the grave of
Lazarus, for they said one to another:
"She goes unto the grave to weep there!"
"She goes to see Jesus, the friend of Lazarus, for he calleth her,"
answered Martha, smiling with eagerness, and speaking with an animation
that presented a singular contrast to her late deep grief.
Mary hastened to where Jesus sat by the fountain bathing his dusty and
wounded feet.
"Lord," she said, in her sister's words, and with deep emotion, "if
thou, Lord, hadst been here, my brother had not died!"
Then bowing her head to the edge of the marble basin, she wept very
heavily. The Jews, men and women, who stood about, being touched with
her sorrow, also wept, while glittering tears coursed their way down
the face of the beloved John, his disciple, who stood near.
Jesus sighed deeply and groaned in spirit as he beheld her grief and
their mourning with her. His sacred countenance was marred with the
anguish of his soul.
"Rise, let us go to the grave where he lieth," he said to them. "Where
have ye laid him?"
"Come, dear Lord, and see," answered Mary, holding him reverently by
the sleeve of the robe, and gently yet eagerly drawing him towards the
place of the tombs in the vale of Olivet.
In the meanwhile, at home, Martha had been diligently, and with strange
cheerfulness, getting in readiness the room of Lazarus. She swept and
dusted it, and garnished it with fresh flowers, which she gathered in
the little garden.
"This is the rose he set out and loved. This is the violet which blooms
immortal. I will place it upon his pillow," she said, with a joyous
hilarity softened by the most lovely look of peace, while hope shone in
her eyes like twin morning stars ushering in a glorious day. She spoke
scarcely above her breath and moved on tiptoe.
"For whom is this preparation, dearest Martha? For Jesus?" I asked.
"Oh, no. The holy Prophet's own room is ready. Mary has prepared that.
This is Lazarus' room, and I am decorating it for him."
"Dost thou truly believe that he is coming back from the dead?" I
asked, between doubt and strange fear.
"Believe? Oh, yes! I know that nothing is impossible with Jesus!
I doubt no more! My faith trembles no longer! He will raise up my
brother, and this day he shall sit down at our table with us again, and
this night rest his head in peaceful slumber upon this pillow which I
am strewing with his favorite flowers. Never had house two such guests
as we shall have this day--the Messias of God, and one come back alive
from the dead!"
At this moment we heard the noise of the multitude passing by, and it
being told us that Jesus was going to the grave, Martha, embracing me
with a heavenly smile, drew me gently after her to follow the blessed
Prophet to the tomb. All Bethany was in his footsteps.
How shall I describe Jesus as he then appeared? He wore a blue robe,
woven without seam throughout, the affectionate work and gift of the
two sisters. His face was very pale and sad, yet a certain divine
majesty rested thereon, so that his calm, high forehead looked as if it
were a throne. His holy, earnest eyes were full of sorrow. His mouth,
compressed, betrayed the effort he made to suppress the outbursting of
his heart's deep grief.
Slowly he moved onward and, entering the cemetery, he soon stood before
the tomb of his beloved friend.
For a few moments he stood gazing upon the closed stone door of the
cave in silence. There reigned an expectant hush among the vast throng.
Mary knelt at his feet, gazing up into his countenance with a sublime
expression of hope and trust. Martha drew softly near and fell upon her
knees by the side of her sister. Jesus looked tenderly upon them and,
resting his eyes upon the tomb, wept. Large, glittering tears rolled
down his cheeks and glanced from his flowing beard to the ground. I
knelt by the side of the sisters.
"Behold how he loved him!" whispered the Jews present with surprise.
Others said, "Could not this man which opened the eyes of the blind,
have caused that even this man should not have died?"
Jesus, heaving a deep sigh, now came nearer the grave. With a slight
movement of his right hand to those who stood by, he said in a tone
that, though low, was heard by the whole people, so solemn was the
surrounding stillness:
"Take ye away the stone!"
"Lord," said Martha, "by this time the body is offensive, for he hath
been dead four days."
"Daughter," said Jesus, looking on her, "believe, and thou shalt behold
the power of God."
The men then with some difficulty took away the stone from the door
of the sepulchre and stood upon one side. The dark vault yawned with
gloomy horrors, and, so corrupt was the air that rushed out, all fell
back from it, save Jesus and Mary, retiring several steps from the
entrance.
Jesus stood looking into the cave where, as our eyes became accustomed
to the darkness within, we could discern the corpse of Lazarus, covered
with the grave mantle, and his face bound with a napkin which was
already discolored with the sepulchral damp of the grave.
Raising his hands towards heaven and lifting up his spiritual
eyes, which were yet moist with tears, Jesus spoke in a voice of
indescribable pathos and earnestness of appeal, and with a manner of
the most awful reverence, as follows:
"Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me. And I know that thou
hearest me always, but because of the people which stand by do I offer
unto thee this prayer, that they may believe that the power I have
cometh from thee, and that they may believe that thou hast sent me.
And now, O holy Father, may I glorify thee on the earth with the power
which thou hast given me."
He then turned towards the tomb, and stretching forth his hand, he
cried with a loud voice that made every heart quake:
"Lazarus, come forth!"
My blood stood still in my veins. Scarcely daring to behold, I looked
and beheld what all eyes also saw, the corpse rise and stand up within
the vault, turn round with its face towards us, and come forth, wrapped
hand and foot with the grave-clothes, and his face bound about with a
napkin. His countenance was like marble for whiteness, and his eyes,
which were open, beamed supernaturally brilliant.
At beholding him a simultaneous shriek burst from the lips of the
people, and there was a terrified backward rush of all who were nighest
the cave.
Martha, wildly uttering her brother's name, fell forward upon her face
insensible.
"Loose him and let him go free!" said Jesus calmly, addressing the
petrified and amazed men who had taken away the stone.
Mary was the first one who had the firmness to approach him, and as she
began removing the napkin from the sides of his face, others, taking
courage by her example, hastened to unswathe his arms and feet. In a
few moments he was free from his outer grave-clothes, and the healthful
color of his cheeks coming to him, his lips flushed brilliantly with
red, his eyes looked natural, beaming with wonder and love as he gazed
about him. Perceiving Jesus, he was about to cast himself at his feet
in gratitude (for he seemed to have consciousness of all that had
happened), but the mighty Prophet drew him to his embrace and kissed
him.
But my pen refuses to find language to express the unspeakable emotions
of joy and gratitude, words of love and praise, that filled all hearts.
Now the great Prophet, now Lazarus, and now Jesus again received the
plaudits of the vast throng of people. Hymns were chanted to Jehovah as
we passed through the streets, and so many fell down to worship Jesus
that it was long before we crossed the threshold of the dwelling, which
Jesus did indeed enter with Lazarus by his side! And Martha did see
her brother sit at the table, and that night his head rested in deep
slumber upon the flower-strewn pillow which her faith and love had
prepared for him.
With the hope of soon embracing you, I remain as ever,
Your loving daughter,
Adina.