Lazarus, a tale of the world's great miracle/Chapter 21

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CHAPTER XXI.

BETHANY was wrapped in night and silence; through the olive groves, grown dark and desolate with approaching winter, not a breath of wind stirred a silver leaf. In their chambers the household of Martha slept. The three alone slept not, but prayed and talked alternately, and all seemed restless.

"The pain deepeneth at my heart," said Mary. "A great fear cometh over me," chimed in Martha. "If we could but have news of Him, that He liveth."

"Were He dead, we should have tidings of it," said Lazarus; but they knew not whether he meant from hearsay, or through supernatural means.

"Surely He knoweth that we love Him and fain would die with Him," said the loving Mary. "Be still! I hear a knocking at the gate!" she added quickly, ever the alert one, and she raised her hand. All stood up, with looks alternately of hope and dread. "Perchance, 't is He," said Mary.

"Or soldiers come to seek Him," added Martha, about to clap her hands to call together the attendants.

"Nay, silence," ordered Lazarus. "If 't is the Lord, wake no man, and, if 't is He, let Him not wait."

"He is not wont to knock," said Mary, "but doth come in some God-like way we wot not of."

Then they proceeded to the gate.

A woman's figure stood there. When she saw them approaching, carrying a swinging Roman lamp, she called out: " 'T is I, the Magdalene."

"Thou, the Magdalene? And at this hour? What brings thee, Mary?" The voice of Lazarus had a strange vibration while he spoke, and his hand trembled while he tried to undo the bolt. The Magdalene's voice had been the last he had heard ere he had died, its echo had seemed to die and live again with him. Even now the peace her words had given him, the loving but despairing look, the glistening tears of love and agony; all had come back at the sound of the Magdalene's voice.

"I come once more with a message," she began, looking round tremblingly while she spoke, to see whether she was being followed. "I would come into the house and speak with you, for the enemies of the Lord are abroad to-night; 't was therefore that I came so late. Forgive me, Martha, that I disturb thy rest."

But Martha laid her hand gently on the Magdalene's shoulder, with unwonted tenderness.

"Rest, Mary?" she said. "We cannot rest while the fear of the Lord's death is ever before us."

By this time they reached the house.

"I have news that will rejoice your hearts," continued Mary Magdalene. "The Lord cometh to Bethany to-morrow."

"We will make ready for Him," broke in Martha, and already her housewifely mind flew to a dozen details. Could she get this or that to set before her Lord? The finest table linen must be brought out, the oldest wine made ready. Jacob, the old servant, must be sent early to the market, to see whether ortolans were to be got; yet, in her heart, she knew that the Lord would partake only of the simplest fare.

"He cometh not here," said Magdalene, "lest His enemies should search for Him, but will lodge in the house of Simon, thy father." And, all the while, Magdalene looked not towards Lazarus—although she longed to gaze on those much-loved features, to see whether death had changed them lest her gaze should betray the wild joy that filled her heart.

"Wilt not speak to me ?" said Lazarus to her gently. "Hast forgotten how thou didst see me die and comfort me?"

Mary's pale face flushed to the very temples, to where the fair tresses rose in crested wave around her head; but she answered not.

Then, half reproachfully and half inquiringly, Lazarus went on: "Thou didst not see me rise again? Where didst thou hide?"

Magdalene blushed again, but, in the dim light of the lamp, the blush was not observed. None knew better than herself how she had longed to rush and see him, but she had feared two things: to betray her joy, and to leave the Virgin Mary.

"I did not like to leave the mother of our Lord," she answered; "for she is in daily torment lest the Jews do kill the Christ, and every night she mourneth, and every morning dreadeth that that day be come."

"And thou dost minister to her?" asked Lazarus with gentle tenderness.

"How could I otherwise? She hath no one but this Son, and Him she dares not claim as hers, in that He is the Son of God. Methinks her state is more piteous than the poor woman's who can hold her children to her breast and know they are her own."

"Nay, but she is blessed above all women," answered Lazarus reverently. "Nations shall worship her and think that, through her, they shall obtain salvation."

"Is she then as a saint?" asked Mary innocently.

"Nay, she is naught but woman like thyself; but she was chosen for her pure simplicity."

"Like me!" exclaimed the Magdalene. "Like me! Would I were indeed like her, pure and sinless. To be with her is like sitting in the Temple when they sing psalms."

But thou art forgiven; and a sinner forgiven is no more a sinner."

The Magdalene looked at him with gratitude and joy. "Dost know all things now, Lazarus? Why this earth was made, and why that God did let sin enter, and why the Christ must die; and didst thou go to heaven and to hell? And when will the end of all things come?"

Woman-like, she asked one question after another without waiting for an answer. Woman-like, she thought that the knowledge of these things was death's requital; the end to be attained by it.

In breathless silence, as though yet hoping that their brother would tell the secrets that their hearts longed to know, would grant the Magdalene's request, though theirs he had refused, the sisters waited, leaning against the wall.

"I know nothing at all, nor ever left this earth. Dost not remember, Mary, how I met thee in the olive groves?"

"And was it really thou? Methought after that, perhaps, it was but a vision or a dream. Thou didst give me a message which I took faithfully."

But Lazarus made no answer; his eyes were raised to heaven, and his lips moved as if in prayer. "I have asked whether I may tell thee what befell me," he said at last, "and methinks I may for the glory of God. Surely if I die, who will testify of these things, if I speak not? And do thou Magdalene write. Thy father was a scribe, and thou too hast the art. Bring hither thy pen and write what I shall say, that future generations may know what befell Lazarus for God's glory."

In the stillness of the night, with the dim lamp throwing giant shadows on the wall, and barely lighting up their features, the three women half sat, half reclined, upon the carpets that covered the wide Roman hall, their eyes wide open with expectant wonder, listening while the Magdalene wrote a scroll that, later, would be destroyed; so that tradition only would echo on the wonders told that night by Lazarus.

"There was but one moment when—thy song ceased, Magdalene—when my faint heart did fail me. It was but the failing of the flesh, the sudden suffocation when the heart doth cease to beat. Then I awoke, as it seemed, from sleep, feeling light and well, as if a burden had been cast from me; and then I saw that I was even in this garden, and a multitude of people, whom I knew well, were assembled to see the burial of some great man. I spoke to some, but none did answer me nor looked my way, and methought I was struck dumb. Then I heard one say to the other: ' 'T is the burial of Lazarus.'

"Then I bethought me I would go back to see whether my body still lay there, for I said, 'If Lazarus doth still lie here, then indeed the spirit and the body are not one, even as the Lord hath spoken. '

"Then I entered my room and I saw my own body stretched out on the bed, and all ye good women and Joanna and Rachel too did tend me and embalm me. And, while I looked, methought, 'How much of foul greed is in that face, how much of weary thought; yet how little hath that body understood the burden that it carried.'

"I looked at the costly curtains of my room. I smelt the fragrant scents that rose on the air; I noticed the costly cedar-wood carvings and the Ethiopian ivories, and I said: 'Thou fool; and didst thou think all this beautiful and rare, and thyself great, because thou hadst these things, and versed in love and wisdom because thou hadst read the sayings and doings of other fools as great as thy own self?'

"And then it seemed as though the body mocked me, and while ye were striving to bind one arm in grave clothes, it did rise and seem to point at me with blue, dead fingers, and a voice like mine did seem to say: 'Truly now thou hast escaped me, but in life we were not divided. Who was the stronger, thou or I? When thou wouldst pray, thine eyes did fall with sleep, and when the Spirit bade thee go and seek the poor, thy feet refused their office, and thou didst leave it for a more convenient day; and so, all through thy life, 't is comfort and ambition that have been thy creed and thy pursuit, and they are Satan's, and so am I, and so also is all flesh and lust. 'T is all from Satan.'

"And while he spake I wept to see my body thus, that might have been much otherwise had I but known the Spirit's power; and to myself I said, If I could but live again I would live differently, for now I know. '

"And the voice near me whispered: 'Trouble not thyself, for thou art forgiven, in that thou believest in the Christ.' 'Nevertheless,' I thought, 'because I do believe, I wish that it had been even so, and that this earthly temple had been kept more beautiful.'

"Then they raised my body and bore it forth 'midst wailing cries, and I would fain have wiped the tears from off your faces, but I could not; and I followed by the side of mine own body to see where they would lay it, and all that night I wandered by the house and sought ye and called ye by your names, but ye could not see me. Then at midnight came another spirit to me, that of an old man, and he took me by the hand and said: 'What doest thou here, Lazarus? Why dost thou still stay near thy home and thy riches and thy vessels of silver and gold? Thou hast much to see and hear, for that thou art dead for the glory of God and shalt live again.'

"'And shall I see Him yet again; Him whom my soul delighteth in?' I asked of the old man. 'Shall I see the Christ?'

"'Yea, thou shalt see Him again even on earth, for thou shalt rise again; but go now, appear to thine whom thou lovest best, and repeat the message that shall be spoken to thee; for, during the first twelve hours that follow death, 't is given to thee to comfort those that thou hast loved, if so be thy love be pure and good, and that they need thee.'

"And then, sweet Magdalene, I saw in memory thy sad eyes, as they had been at my death-bed, and methought, 'Surely 't is she that needeth me the most.' Yet when I came to thee, I bethought me of what the Lord would have me do, and it came strong upon me to give thee the message of which thou dost wot."

Here Lazarus looked lovingly at the Magdalene, and her eyes began to fill with tears of mingled joy and wonder.

"And didst feel that thou wert dead?" asked Martha.

"Nay, I felt only a great rest and lightness and that evil thoughts no more oppressed me; but, for all else, I seemed to be yet myself, and to be yet in the same place. And I said to the old man: 'If this be death, where then are heaven and hell, and where is God and where is Satan?'

"'Be still,' he said. 'Dost thou that hath but lately left thy fleshly case, with all thy evil thoughts and wrongful understandings, and thy cavilings, and hankerings after thine own goods, dost think that thou art fit to come before the God Eternal? Thou art still in this world's surroundings. Thou art in Hades, and Hades is the air and space around the earth. See, thou art quite close, so far only art thou risen, as high as yonder tree. '

"Then I seized him by the white sleeve of his robe, and in my hands it felt soft like the downy clouds, like wool, yet without substance, and in deepest agony I cried: 'How then can I know whether I be saved?' 'Dost believe in Jesus, the Christ?' the Spirit asked. 'Verily and indeed I do,' I answered. 'Then the same hope that brought thee here will help thee still.'

"Then a great joy filled mine heart, a joy to which no earthly joy can be compared. The joy of certainty and rest, which no man hath on earth. 'Why, then, do men fear death?' I asked again. 'They fear what they know not. They believe in a life and a death of their own thinking. They live in dreams of their own making and waken but to die.' 'And who art thou?' I asked. 'I am the Spirit of Truth. In the world I cannot live, for Satan seeketh to destroy me, and he is the father of lies. Some I visit may seek for me, but there is no Truth on earth. Here I abide, and, when all dreaming and scheming and lying and cheating are at an end for any man, I meet the soul that hath loved Truth and I leave it not again. But thou must go back to the earth, and I cannot come with thee. See that thou speak the Truth and love the Truth and live it.'

"Then I asked him: 'What is Truth?' And the old man answered: 'Truth is that which a man heareth in his heart, and observeth not. 'T is the voice of the I AM. And all know what is Truth, but they love it not. Yet the greatest gift of all is Truth, for he who hath it not causeth his brother to err, which is the greatest sin of all. Truth is like a pointed sword held heavenwards so that the light flasheth on both sides. 'T is like a ball of crystal, so suspended in the air that it leaveth no shadow, and all men can see its purity. Truth is like the eyes of the new-born babe that cannot speak. Truth is like white sails on a sea, a light set on a hill; it is fearless as a hero in a battle; a head with an iron neck that none can sever. Like a rock that no earthquake can make tremble, so is Truth. Truth echoeth through ages and will not be stilled, and it shineth forth to the generations still to come; but all in vain.'

"Then he took me across the air, over the trees and valleys, and first he pointed out to me Jerusalem, and while I looked I saw an angel with black wings flying hither and thither over the heads of the multitudes. I remembered the black wings that had seemed so near me on the road to Jericho, and I bade the old man pause awhile and tell me who was the angel with the sombre wings. ' 'T is Satan,' he made answer, and even while he spoke the angel raised his face, and on it was such a look of blank despair as I have never seen on that of any man. 'What doeth he here?' I asked. 'He feareth that the glory of God is nigh at hand. He goeth about making lies; he striveth yet to harden the hearts of the Pharisees and the scribes against the Christ. Caiaphas and Judas and many others have been given over to him, but he will have more. He fighteth hard for Nicodemus and for Pontius Pilate. He thinketh yet that the divine spark he hath in him of God can fight with God.' ' Will he, then, die?' I asked. 'The spirit that God hath made can never die,' replied the Spirit of Truth; 'but, one day, Satan will be given to good works, and that will be his hell; to preach the gospel of Him he hateth, and tend the sick and suffering, for the Spirit of the Almighty will prevail. 'Beware, Lazarus, for he will sift thee as one sifteth wheat, and tenfold more when thou dost return to life. Here he cannot touch thee; but now that thou hast learned the way to live 't will be harder for thee. But thou art forever the testimony of the power and love of Christ, and the Spirit of Truth will be with thee.'

"I felt greatly troubled and I said: 'Shall I fail? Shall I fail?' And, like sweet music wafted over great waters that rolled with hollow sound beneath, methought I heard the words: 'Fear not. My grace is sufficient for thee, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.'

"Then I saw that other spirits came and went about us, and all looked peaceful and quiet, as though no longer troubled about aught below. And I knew no one face, but all seemed those of friends that I had loved, and, as they flitted past me, they cried out, 'Welcome, welcome.' Then I saw that where I was there was no night nor day, only a strange glow of light; and of hours, of time, of sleep—they were not. Then I said to the Spirit of Truth: 'Is there naught that I can do for the Christ in these four days? Can I go and comfort the hearts of the desolate or watch beside the sick?' 'Thou hadst all life for that,' the Spirit of Truth replied reproachfully. 'Now it is too late. Thou canst not do it till thou goest back to earth.' Then, thinking of the years I had misspent, how the Lord had bid me leave all and follow Him, I wept. But the Spirit of Truth consoled me. 'Weep not,' he said, 'for thou canst pray. This is denied to no one but Satan; he may not pray; oft great troubles, great adversities, and terrors come upon him and he fain would cry out to the Lord; but he knoweth that God heareth him not, and that prayer from him availeth nothing.'

"So then I knelt like a little child and prayed there where I stood, and, while I prayed, others too came round me and prayed also; and the sound of our voices rose like music on the air, and it was as if angels' voices, too, joined in with us and sang: 'Tell it to the Lord, tell it to the Lord!'

"And the Spirit of Truth prayed too; and, when we had all risen, he said to me: 'Prayer is the key to heaven, for with prayer there cometh faith, and faith leadeth on to heaven. Remember that when thou comest again on earth, and cease not to pray.'

"And I bowed my head, for I seemed not as a ruler; but the spirit of a little child had come upon me."