It is cloudless, a clear blue eye.
The crucifixion of Jesus is designed to attract attention. It says Look at Me, in direct competition with the resurrection of Lazarus. Jesus needs to outshine the great and unprecedented miracle, the raising of Lazarus from the dead. If he fails to do so, there may be uncertainty about which is the main event.
Lazarus is the latest in a series of resurrections that viewed together look like experiments: Lazarus, the son of the widow of Nain, and before that the daughter of Jairus in Capernaum. All three are trial resurrections, prototypes. Jesus is testing the limits of the form.
Years earlier, on the shore of the lake in Galilee, Jesus had learned that siblings should be spared. No one should have to suffer, like Lazarus, the death of a brother or sister. The daughter of Jairus, who will die, is therefore an only child. Jesus then discovers, because she is a daughter, that grief is equally unbearable for a father.
For his next attempt, in the village of Nain, he picks an only child whose mother is a widow. No brothers, no fathers. The widow has experience of death, but her suffering too is astonishing. The outright grief of the parent confuses the value of the resurrection, because if Jesus can bring children back to life, it would be kinder to save them before they die.
Jesus lacks the human instinct. He tries again.
Lazarus is next, and as Jesus learns compassion he improves the basic set-up. Lazarus is not a child. His parents will not suffer. Resurrection is going to damage the fewest number of people if it involves an unmarried adult who has lost his parents and has no children.
Martha and Mary can’t be helped. No one is entirely alone, and like the widow of Nain the sisters have experience of death. They already know what it’s like to lose a brother. Also, they have each other. God can’t think of everything.
By this stage Jesus has understood that Lazarus needs to be buried. In the two previous resurrections, life had returned too soon, and witnesses will take every opportunity to disbelieve. If the bodies aren’t buried, a faked death or deep trance lingers as a possibility. Jesus corrects this flaw with Lazarus. His friend is dead four days, buried for two. Martha mentions the smell.
Lazarus is by far the best designed of the three trial resurrections, though room for improvement remains. He is called from the tomb in public, but the hardened cynics and Sadducees still insist doggedly that nobody saw him die.
Jesus registers this objection. He intends to stage an undeniably public death.
Lazarus lands on his back in a cart of straw.
Immediately he lands, the cart jolts and starts moving forward.
His body is unscathed. He wipes the straw out of his eyes and mouth. The cart, carrying feed for the sacrificial animals, will be heading for the Temple. Jesus spends his days at the Temple, and the two men are yet to sit and talk, but Lazarus refuses to be pushed around like this. If he can’t kill himself he’ll save himself, he alone, without the help of Jesus. He can be his own saviour, correct his own mistakes.
Saloma first. He’ll apologise for the charade of their betrothal, and set her free. Then Lydia.
He climbs out of the moving cart, and takes shelter in the shadow of a wall. No one has seen him. He walks, then runs, in the opposite direction to the Temple entrance and Jesus.
At Isaiah’s house, they are expecting him.
‘How can that be? How did you know I was coming?’
‘A Roman called Cassius claims you can help us.’
‘Cassius didn’t send me. I wanted to talk about Saloma.’
‘We know.’
In an upper room, with lamps alight, Isaiah’s women have attempted to soften the atmosphere — they don’t have Lydia’s experience. Saloma is overdressed and areas of the uncovered wall make harsh reflections from the flames. She is lying in a nest of cushions. Her bare feet twitch in terror. She whimpers, turns to the wall and buries her face in her arms.
Isaiah and his wife accompany Lazarus to the room. After four days in a Roman cell he stinks of sweat but neither of them cover their noses.
‘Signs and wonders,’ Isaiah says, gesturing towards Saloma in the corner. ‘Now is your chance to make me believe.’
‘That isn’t why I came. I wanted to tell you we can’t get married.’
‘You are betrothed,’ her mother says.
Isaiah nods. ‘By law you can touch my daughter.’
Lazarus feels the strength of their longing. They want so much to believe that Lazarus, even against their instincts, is true. He kneels beside Saloma and she bangs her head against the wall. Then she covers her ears with a blanket. He reaches out towards her, stops, feels the heat from her hunched shoulders on his hand.
‘Heal her!’ Isaiah desperately wants Cassius to be right. Lazarus has died and is now alive and he will touch Saloma and through this miraculous contact Saloma will be healed. ‘You or Jesus, I don’t care which. Come on, Lazarus. Do some work.’
Lazarus rocks back and stands up. He has not touched Saloma. He realises, possibly for the first time, that he is not the equal of Jesus.
‘I’m not a healer.’
‘You didn’t even try.’
‘You’d have to ask Jesus,’ Lazarus says. ‘And probably believe in him too.’
Isaiah flares his nostrils. ‘That’s very convenient, because Jesus has gone into hiding. Somewhere in the Lower City, with the thieves and prostitutes. How can he help if we don’t know where he is?’
‘I’ll find him for you. I used to know my way around.’
6
1
HAVE YOU FOUND Jesus?
This is what they ask when they come to the door. Christ on earth is elusive. If he had never gone missing, we’d know where he was.
The hide-and-seek of the Christian Jesus has its origins in Holy Week, because the bible never commits to his exact whereabouts. In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus spends Sunday night in Bethany. There is no mention of Lazarus, because Lazarus is imprisoned in the Antonia Fortress. Jesus uses Bethany as his base until Wednesday morning, and then he stays in Jerusalem.
His movements are kept secret intentionally, and the theologian Marcus Borg cites Judas Iscariot as the reason: ‘By reporting that Jesus sent two disciples to make clandestine arrangements for the Passover meal, Mark has Jesus withhold from Judas its precise location, so that Judas cannot tell the authorities where to find Jesus during the meal.’
The instructions given by Jesus suggest a network of contacts attuned to preconceived signals and coded phrases: ‘Go into the city, and a man carrying a jar of water will meet you; follow him, and wherever he enters, say to the owner of the house, “The Teacher asks, Where is my guest room where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?” He will show you a large room upstairs, furnished and ready. Make preparations for us there’ (Mark 14: 13–15).
Lazarus has been separated from Jesus for many years, living far away in Bethany. He has been sick, and he died. On the Thursday, after his escape from the Antonia, Lazarus can know none of the prearranged signals. He like everyone else has to search for the son of god, and for the same reason: if he finds Jesus, Jesus may have the answers. Why should Lazarus be alive? What is the purpose of his existence? He wants a second chance at asking what his second chance is for.
His first task is to infiltrate the Jesus network in the Lower City. He knows someone who should be able to help.
2
Lazarus launches himself up the ladder two rungs at a time, and bursts into Lydia’s attic. The lamps are flickering but Lydia is not at home.