will be dropped at a dusty roadside on what was once the village square.
There is an official blue sign reading âPilgrimage Sightsâ, and an arrow points to a narrow road leading steeply uphill. On the right-hand side of this road, before the tomb and the three churches commemorating the miracle of Lazarusâs resurrection, just after the first gift shop, is a two-storey house with a handwritten banner: The Home of Lazarus, Martha and Mary.
Accredited tour guides warn that this is probably not the house, but the two young men who sit inside the courtyard will accompany interested visitors past the bay tree and inside the disputed building. They show off the engraved brass teapot and matching set of goblets owned by Lazarus himself, and earthenware bowls possibly used by his sisters. Whatever the truth, this is the only house we have.
There are two large rooms, one on each floor. There is a bench built into the walls of each rooms, wide enough to lie down on and sleep. There are rugs and cushions on the floors, woven decorations on the whitewashed walls, and circular brass trays set on wooden stands to make convenient low tables. The attentive young men hint strongly that the teapot and goblets may be for sale.
Otherwise, Coca-Cola is available from a glass-doored fridge in the courtyard outside.
Lazarus stays mostly in the upper room. It makes his urgent trips outside more difficult, but Martha is convinced that the air upstairs is cleaner. She and Mary move the hand loom upstairs, and take turns to sit with him while working on the betrothal gown and asking him questions about Saloma.
âWhatâs her favourite colour?â
Lazarus rarely wants to talk.
âWe should send for Jesus,â Mary says.
There are awkward silences, and Jesus himself concedes the negative influence he can have on family life:
âFor I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, and the daughter-in-law against the mother-in-lawâ
(Matthew 10:35). The Lazarus sisters are not immune. They too are subject to the pressures of the age.
âLeave him alone,â Martha says.
âJesus is trying to tell us something.â
âYouâre not helping. Check the stitches on the wedding gown. He needs something to look forward to.â
âJesus is healing people he doesnât even know. Complete strangersâthe sons of noblemen.â
âHeâs in Galilee,â Lazarus says. He pulls his knees to his chest, wipes his hand across his mouth. âIâm here.â
âThat boy was healed at a distance.â
âOf about twenty miles. Weâre at the other end of the country.â
âPray. If you believe he can heal you then he will.â
A smallpox lesion bursts inside Lazarusâs mouth, filling his saliva with bacteria. He is sitting but refuses to lie down. He has vowed never to lie down during daylight hours, because he will not admit to weakness.
âI have a fever and a nasty cough. Thatâs all. I donât want anyone to worry.â
Maryâs lips move fast as she prays for her brother. Then she prays she wonât fall ill, and that Martha wonât fall ill. Most of her prayers are answered.
Â
Lazarus will not send for Jesus, neither at this stage halfway through his illness nor later when his life depends upon it:
âSo the sisters sent word to Jesus, âLord, the one you love is sickâ â
(John 11:3). Instead, Martha and Mary will act on his behalf, and only at the very end, when their brother has barely a day or maybe two days left to live.
In the meantime, it is unthinkable that Lazarus does nothing. He has the rest of his life to lead. He will attempt to save himself in every conceivable way except for calling on Jesus.
He has offered penitential sacrifices at the Temple: his fever and his headaches remain unchanged. He has purified himself in the
mikveh
, but blames the failed