Mary
Mary watched her sister’s face flush, and she was sure her own cheeks had pinked. The murmur of male voices was not distinguishable, but it was clear their guests had arrived.
“Go,” Martha whispered. “Go and see what’s happening.”
Mary’s heart thumped at the request, but she was curious too, and her greatest wish was to converse with Jesus. Or, at the very least, hear His words in person.
“Father’s home,” Naomi said, climbing off the bench and running toward the gathering room.
“Naomi,” Leah said in reprimand. “Do not—”
But Naomi had already disappeared from sight. Leah rose to her feet, but her expression told Mary she was reluctant to follow her daughter.
“We will go together,” Mary said, linking her arm with Leah’s, then nodding to Martha.
Her sister visibly swallowed, looking like she’d rather stay in the cooking room. “Come, Martha,” Mary encouraged.
So the three of them entered the gathering room. Naomi had already made her way to her father and had wrapped her little arms about his legs where he stood just inside the doorway. “Leah,” he said as soon as he saw her. “Come, all of you.”
Mary walked forward with the women until they joined Lazarus in the doorway and could see the front courtyard, where several men had gathered. Beyond the walls of their courtyard, villagers lingered, watching and waiting, perhaps for their turn to greet these guests.
Mary scanned the faces of the men. There were about a dozen. At first, it wasn’t immediately clear which was Jesus, but the moment she saw Him, she knew it was Him.
She couldn’t explain it exactly, but the expression on His face and the warmth of His gold-brown eyes made it hard for her to look anywhere else. She was riveted by the sense of compassion and deep, abiding love she felt emanating from Him. She’d never laid eyes on this man, Jesus of Nazareth, but she felt He knew her with only one glance and no words.
Lazarus made introductions, but Mary barely heard what her brother was saying as he introduced the women of his family to Jesus and His Apostles. The names of Andrew, Peter, John, James, Matthew, Philip, and more swirled about her. Horeb had also arrived with the men, but he remained in the back of the group, keeping watch on the villagers beyond the wall as if guarding the house.
Jesus’s benevolent gaze went to each person as Lazarus named his family members. Somehow Nathaniel and Rhode appeared, even though Mary hadn’t seen them enter. As Lazarus made the introductions, Jesus repeated the names of each family member as if committing them to memory. And Mary guessed this was a man who didn’t forget names.
“And this is Mary,” Lazarus said. “My youngest sister.”
The eyes of their guests shifted to her, and Jesus’s gaze once again returned to hers.
Mary clasped her hands before her, wanting to kneel before Him but not knowing what was expected. Jesus repeated her name, and her eyes pricked with tears as unidentifiable emotions swept through her. He knew her name. That knowledge alone brought a joy to her heart, a joy she couldn’t remember feeling before.
“We have fetched water for our guests to wash their feet,” Leah murmured.
“Wonderful,” Lazarus said. “We will return shortly with the basin of water.”
Lazarus went with the women into the cooking room and helped carry the basins of water scented with oil. The men washed their feet in the scented water, then Lazarus invited them inside.
But the Apostle named Andrew said, “We will remain out here while Jesus rests inside.”
And so it was. Mary watched Jesus walk into her home.
Lazarus led Him to a cushion at the end of the low table, where Jesus then sat. Mary watched Him settle, thinking of how this man had walked days and days to teach and heal people in need. His feet had carried Him that distance. And now He was resting in their home.
The conversations among the Apostles coming in from the window was low and mellow, and it seemed they were content to wait where they were.
“We are preparing a nice meal for you and your disciples,” Martha said to Jesus.
Mary didn’t miss the nervous tremor in her voice as she spoke.
But Jesus didn’t seem to be in any hurry to eat. He thanked her, and Martha returned to the cooking room. Mary lingered in the gathering room to listen as Lazarus asked Jesus how He’d fared on the journey to Bethany.
Perhaps she wasn’t welcome to listen in, but Jesus and her brother didn’t seem bothered in the least.
“I shared the parable of the Samaritan with my family,” Lazarus said, glancing at Mary.
She nodded, and Jesus’s compassionate gaze turned upon her.
“I loved the story,” Mary said, hoping she wasn’t speaking out of turn. But Jesus only watched her with interest. “It made me realize that I should be looking for more opportunities to serve and not just those in my family. I have been caught up in my own woes lately and perhaps have neglected times when I could have assisted another.”
Jesus nodded.
“But Horeb and Lazarus have both told me of your teachings,” Mary said. “I have a great deal of trouble looking for the good in all things.” She waited for His answer, holding her breath in anticipation. Would He find her comments foolish? But His next words told her He did not.
“Mary.” Jesus spoke her name, then said, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”
Mary was already crying. The words were comforting, and hearing Jesus tell her not to be troubled or afraid was somehow precisely what she needed in that moment.
She continued to ask Him questions, and Jesus gently answered each one, telling her some parables that she’d heard in different forms from her brother already. At one point, Lazarus went outside, and Mary assumed he was speaking with the Apostles.
She asked Him how she could stay stronger and not falter. Jesus didn’t seem bothered by her weaknesses. He told her she didn’t need to accomplish large feats but that the smaller things were just as welcome.
“If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible to you.”
Mary wished she could write down every word Jesus spoke. She never wanted to forget His analogy of the mustard seed, for that was exactly how she felt in this world, yet Jesus had said that nothing would be impossible to her.
Martha came into the gathering room and set a tray with a cup of wine and plate of figs before Jesus. He thanked her, then drank and ate a little. Martha looked directly at Mary and motioned for her to follow her to the cooking room to help. But Mary couldn’t very well leave when He’d been sharing so much wisdom with her. Mary shook her head so that only Martha would get the message.
Martha pursed her lips and returned to the cooking room alone. When Jesus began telling her a parable about a lost sheep, Mary was glad she hadn’t followed her sister. “If a man have an hundred sheep, and one of them be gone astray, doth he not leave the ninety and nine, and goeth into the mountains, and seeketh that which is gone astray?”
Although Jesus was speaking of sheep, Mary knew He referred to everyone. She thought of how her family had taken care of her in her deepest sorrow; how Martha had taken care of Claudia without any payment or accolades; how Lazarus had helped Horeb in so many ways. Mary’s gaze was solely fixed on Jesus as He continued.
“And if it so be that he find it, verily I say unto you, he rejoiceth more of that sheep, than of the ninety and nine which went not astray.”
It was absolutely true; Mary had felt it in her own life.
Martha appeared again to refill Jesus’s wine cup, although He hadn’t finished all of it. She set down a platter of olives before Him. He took one and thanked her again.
Martha nodded, but her questioning gaze flitted to Mary, making it clear that she thought Mary should be helping in the cooking room. And Mary should, but when else would she have Jesus in her home and the chance to learn from Him?
When Mary shook her head again, Martha whispered, “Won’t you help with preparations, sister?”
Lazarus hadn’t returned from the courtyard, and surely the meal preparations could wait a short time.
“I will soon,” Mary said, although she didn’t want to move if Jesus was going to continue teaching.
Martha disappeared again. The scent of cooked meat was stronger, and Mary guessed the meal was nearly ready to be served. Mary would help serve. Before she could excuse herself from Jesus, Martha entered the gathering room a third time, but she wasn’t carrying the wine jug.
Martha stopped in front of Him and bowed. “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Perhaps she can help me now.”
Mary went both hot and cold at the same time. Surely she would be reprimanded now. It was always the same. Her curiosity and interest in learning all she could always got her into trouble.
Jesus’s smile was soft as He gazed at her sister. “Martha, Martha,” he said in a quiet tone, “thou art careful and troubled about many things: But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.”
Martha said nothing for a moment, as if she were too stunned to speak.
Mary couldn’t remember a time when anyone had suggested that learning of spiritual principles was more important than physical chores. But here the Lord had implied that Mary’s persistence in learning was needful. Warmth seeped through her, and she looked up to see Lazarus standing in the doorway, his expression thoughtful.
Martha clasped her hands in front of her, then bowed her head. In the next moment, she returned to the cooking room. Mary felt breathless. Her choice had been validated.
Jesus hadn’t criticized her sister but had explained that it was all right that Mary was spending time to learn things beyond her daily duties.
Mary nodded, feeling like her mind had expanded tenfold in just the short time she’d been listening to Jesus. Lazarus had left again, and Martha and Leah remained in the cooking room. Mary suspected that these few moments alone with Jesus were perhaps all she’d ever have, and she cherished each one.
She smiled, but her eyes also burned with tears.
Lazarus soon returned to the room and settled on a nearby cushion. Jesus nodded to her brother, then said, “If ye continue in my word, then are ye my disciples indeed; And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”
Martha and Leah both appeared, carrying trays of soup in clay bowls, cooked fish, and steaming lentils. They set the meal before Jesus, then returned without a word to the cooking room.
Jesus began to eat, then invited Lazarus and Mary to join him. But Mary couldn’t eat a thing. Not now. He and Lazarus spoke of Jesus’s recent journeys, and Mary continued to listen with rapt attention.
Moments later, Martha and Leah carried food to the Apostles in the courtyard. As the women came back inside, Martha paused before returning to the cooking room. “Thank you for teaching my sister,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion.
Mary was overjoyed when Jesus invited Martha to join them. With the slightest hesitation, Martha sat on the cushion next to Mary.
Mary grasped her sister’s hand and squeezed.
Martha asked a few questions, and Jesus answered in His humble way.
Mary had never been so moved in her entire life as she watched Martha soak in the words of the Lord. The voice of Jesus was warm and calm, and His very tones brought peace to her heart. She could listen to Him all day, all night, and all the next day. As the midday shifted into afternoon, it was clear that Mary and Martha couldn’t keep the man all to themselves.
Lazarus had left, and now entered with the Apostle named Andrew.
“A crowd has gathered,” Andrew said.
Mary fully expected Jesus to say He hadn’t rested yet because she had commandeered all of His time. Instead, He told Andrew that He would come straightaway. After bidding farewell to Mary and Martha, Jesus left the house and walked into the courtyard.
From inside the house, it was clear by the voices coming in that the crowd had grown significantly. So many of Jesus’s followers were seeking His attention. And yet He’d spent an afternoon with just Mary and her family. For several moments, the sisters listened to the bustle of the crowd outside, neither of them speaking. Then Mary realized Martha was crying.
“What is it?” Mary asked, grasping her sister’s hand.
Martha gave a tremulous smile. “I’m so very glad you chose the good part, Mary. As Jesus said, I encumber myself too much with chores. Sometimes I don’t stop to listen when I should. And today, we are blessed beyond measure to hear the words of the Lord. Nothing can replace that in importance.”
Mary swallowed against the emotion tugging at her throat. “Thank you, dear sister.”
Martha pulled Mary close, and the two embraced.
They spent the next while making sure the Apostles were all fed in the courtyard. Jesus had already moved to the wall and greeted many of the villagers. Even the children were in awe of the man, and Jesus treated each child as if they were of great importance.
The scene was so tender it brought tears to Mary’s eyes.
The afternoon wore on, and as the sun began its descent along the western sky, Jesus bade farewell to the family of Lazarus. He moved on from their house to travel to another location, and Mary watched from the courtyard, arm in arm with her sister.
The village was abuzz with all the miracles of Jesus. And although Mary hadn’t had a limb perfected or an illness healed, she felt more whole than she’d ever felt before. She felt strong, joyful, and her previous woes felt lighter than they had in a long time.
“I am going back inside to rest and ponder all that we’ve been taught,” Martha said.
Mary looked at her sister in surprise. “You’re going to rest?”
“Remarkable, isn’t it?” Martha smiled.
Mary laughed. “Yes, very.”
Martha squeezed her hand, then left Mary in the courtyard. Clouds had gathered, and the wind had picked up with the progressing afternoon. Mary didn’t mind. She wasn’t cold at all, perhaps due to the warm words floating through her. They were words she held precious and would rely on when she was faced with challenges in the future.
She almost didn’t notice Horeb coming along the road in front of the house until he stopped directly in front of her. Mary looked up to see him smiling at her.
“Did you see Jesus with the children?”
“Yes,” Mary said. “He is truly a man of compassion.”
Horeb’s smile broadened. “We have a new way to live now, Mary. Our lives have a renewed purpose, and Jesus has promised us eternal life. That means I’ll see my mother again.”
The tender fact made Mary smile through threatening tears. “Yes, and I’ll see my parents again.”
Horeb opened the gate and walked into the courtyard. “I can never thank your family enough for what you have done for me. If it wasn’t for Lazarus, I’d still be a poor man hobbling around Galilee, begging for a job.”
Mary shook her head with amusement. By all appearances, Horeb still wore his threadbare clothing and looked as if he slept in the road at nights. “We are all blessed.”
His gaze seemed to intensify, and Mary felt a sudden heat in her chest.
“You are right,” Horeb said. “Now, if I can beg a favor from you, tell me what you and Jesus spoke about.”
Mary arched a brow. “Do you not know all of His teachings? You are never quiet about them.”
Horeb chuckled. “You have noticed. I thirst for knowledge, just like a young woman I know.”
Her cheeks were likely flushed, but she didn’t look away from him. “I do know that.”
Horeb leaned against the wall and folded his arms as if he were patiently waiting for her to talk. Mary sighed, then perched on the wall a pace or two away from him. “I don’t think any of it will be new to you, but perhaps you’ll be able to give me additional insights.”
“I’ll try.” He inclined his head. “But I am sure you have plenty yourself.”
Mary wouldn’t blush again; she refused to allow it. How could one man be so different from another? She could never imagine this conversation with Isaac. “Jesus taught me the mustard seed parable.”
Horeb’s expression brightened, but he didn’t interrupt. It was clear he was already familiar with it. But as Mary spoke, he only listened and nodded. She’d been enjoying talking to him for so long that she didn’t notice the darkening clouds until the rain started.
“You should come inside,” Mary said. “The storm looks vicious.”
“I’ll be fine.” Horeb straightened and moved through the gate again. “Thank you for sharing your experiences with me, Mary.”
She nodded because she was speechless as she watched Horeb hurry away, pulling his threadbare robe closed against the wind. Mary doubted he’d stay warm tonight.
“Horeb, do you want me to weave you a new robe?” she called after him.
He turned, his brows raised. “That offer is too generous.”
“I agree, but it’s still a nice offer.”
“All right,” Horeb said with a grin. “I won’t turn that down.”