Johann Quisumbing

A Biblical Short Story by JQuisumbing

33 AD – Where was He? – Bethany, Judea

The winter again was not as harsh as last year and spring seems to have sprung up a little early in Judea. But the air was still a bit cold when Mary returned home with her two companions from Galilee. She had spent three wonderful months with Mariam, the mother of Jesus. 

Mariam had taken Mary under her wing. From her, Mary was told an incredible story of how she was visited by an angel of the Lord. From that meeting, Mariam was told what the Lord God had intended and as intended,  she was with child. The incredible part was that she knew no man. 

Jesus had been focusing his ministry in and around Nazareth and Capernaum. Whenever Jesus was there, Mary had taken every opportunity to learn more about him, the kingdom and eternal life. She even learned of things that Jesus only reserved to his closest disciples. She had never been this happy.

When she alighted from the wagon, her father emerged from the house.

“Abba,” she hugged him. “It is good to be home.”

The two women approached them. 

“Abba, you remember Mary of Magdala. And this is Joanne. Her husband is Chuza…”

“Oh yes… he is Antipas’ chamberlain I recall,” Simon said. “Ladies… Please enter our home. I must talk to my daughter.” He led her to the side as her companions entered. 

“Mary, I miss you so much. I almost regretted sending you to Galilee… almost.” Simon smiled then he hugged her again. “Before we go into the house, I have to tell you that your brother is very… very ill.”

“Oh, no…”

Mary rushed into the house with her father not too far behind. She passed her two companions who clearly sensed something was wrong. She went up to the third level to her brother’s room. She paused before his door, took a breath and then entered.

Lazarus was covered from neck to foot with bed covers and blankets. His hair was flattened down in sweat. His glistening face was incredibly pallored to the point that he already resembled a corpse. It was only by his shallow breathing that Mary knew he was still alive. Martha was there laying a damp towel on his head.

“He has been asking for you, Mary,” Martha said.

“I wish I knew he was ill, or else I would have come earlier,” she said as they hugged each other. “How is he?”

“I feel much better, now that you are here,” Lazarus said as he smiled weakly. Then he fell back to sleep.

Martha took Mary to the far end of the room and whispered, “He is not getting better. I fear the worst. Where is the Master? Father had been sending messengers far and wide.”

“He and the Twelve are somewhere in the Perean region.”

“Then, I must inform Father, so he can send messengers. You stay and keep him cool.”

“Of course, sister.”

Martha quietly left the room.

“Mary?”

“I am here, brother.”

Mary went to his bed and replaced the damp cloth on his head. He asked her for some news and she told him of the happenings of Capernaum, Cana and at Nazareth, mostly places where she was. Throughout the night and several other nights, she and her companions took turns in caring for him. However, Lazarus did not get any better and there were no signs of Jesus. 

One afternoon, Lazarus woke up in the midst of a fever and in a low hoarse voice, he said, “Mary, I do not think I will make it.”

“What talk is this, Lazarus?” Mary said a little scoldingly. “Jesus will not let you die. He will come.”

“Comfort my heart. Tell me a secret like you used to when you were little.”

Mary knew a secret and she was going to share it with him when he gets better. 

“I did discover something,” she whispered. “It was when the disciples were talking amongst themselves when Jesus said ‘The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into the hands of men. They will kill him, and after three days he will rise.’ [Mark 9:30-32]

“I was shocked to hear it but the disciples showed very little emotion. Joanne later told me that he had said this a number of times before. The disciples are having a hard time trying to comprehend it and fear asking him about it. Some of them believe that he was speaking figuratively. I… ah… I believe otherwise from the things I learned so far.”

Mary was given a great privilege. When Jesus saw that she had great capacity to learn, he gave instructions to his disciples to give her tutelage of the Scriptures which were traditionally reserved only for Jewish boys. Since Matthew was the oldest and was like a grandfather to her, he took it upon himself to instruct her. Using the holy scrolls of a friendly Synagogue leader, Mary’s eyes opened to God’s written word. In the course of a few months, she saw a repeated pattern woven within the stories of Moses and the books of the prophets. It was a pattern of sacrificial substitution provided divinely to temporarily pay for the original sin of Adam, the first man. But those sacrifices only benefited just a few. Mankind is still eternally in danger.  

Mary, however, had also gleaned a promised hope in that pattern. She saw this promise float to the surface from within the literature like pieces in a puzzle starting with a voiced certainty that the future offspring of Abraham would be a great blessing to the nations. Those pieces came together in the prophecies of the coming Messiah. The question in her mind though was what exactly would the Messiah do? The Jews have it in their minds that the Messiah would be a returning victorious king from the line of David freeing them from the tyranny of the Romans. But Mary believed that that prophecy would not come about the way her people expected. In her mind, their way of thinking only serves the people of Israel. But prophecy says that the Messiah would be a great blessing to the nations… to all mankind. And that blessing will come in the form of a sacrifice to top all other sacrifices. She put it all together.

“Lazarus,” she whispered into his ear, “Jesus is going to offer his life for all of us. I don’t know how yet, but I believe it is going to happen soon… very soon. I know this because of the way he had been talking to us lately. I think I am the only one who believes this. Lazarus? Lazarus, did you hear me?”

Mary thought he was asleep. When she placed her palm on his forehead, it was cold. She expected it to be feverishly hot. She sighed a breath of relief thinking that maybe his fever broke, but then to her dismay, she realized he was not breathing. 

“Abba!” She called out as loud as she could.

Simon came rushing in followed by Martha and some of the servants. As Martha wailed loudly, he calmly assessed the situation. Going to a countertop, he retrieved his daughter’s hand mirror and gently held it under his nostrils trying to detect even a slight puff of air. He looked at Mary and shook his head. Then he pulled his son’s bed covers over his head. 

The activity around the house was solemn. Mary was tired and walking around in a daze. She walked into the room where Lazarus was being prepared for burial. His body was almost wrapped with linen soaked in aromatic spices. Two women were solemnly wrapping his right arm and shoulder. Mary went to the other side of the table and rolled up her sleeve.

“Mary, you should not. You will be unclean,” said one of the women. “We can finish this.”

But Mary had already picked up the soaked strips and started to delicately wrap his other arm. When only his head was left unwrapped, the two women respectfully left the room to let Mary finish up. 

Mary’s tears started to fall and she started to stroke her brother’s hair. When she turns toward the open window, she says, “If only you have come…”

Click to go to Part 2 or Part 4

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Author’s note:

Mary of Bethany is an actual person based in the Gospels of the Bible, but this short story is basically fiction.

There are many such characters in the Bible, many of them were not named at all, but yet there are worthy stories to tell about them. With the help of some sanctified imagination and some artistic license, I felt their stories should be told especially of their faithful encounters with Jesus Christ.