Musings from doubt

There was an ugly silence coming from the kitchen. I could tell that Martha was upset, she usually ends up there when she is. But this was different.  Today was the Passover sabbath. We should have been celebrating- a day of rest, with family and friends. We had been expecting Jesus.   But earlier in the week, it had all gone wrong. Lazarus had come in the house to tell us he’d heard Jesus had been arrested, and he was going to find out more. When he came back, I could see that something was wrong, but I never anticipated this.  ‘He’s dead’.  ‘How? Why?’ ‘Crucified.’ I couldn’t bear to ask Lazarus any more - his face was grey and his face was working horribly. He disappeared out again and we didn’t see him at all the next day. Crucifixion was terrible. None of us ever wanted to see it, but since the victims died along major roads, it was impossible to miss. I think that was the point. The worst thing was how long they took to die - I remember seeing one man on the way in to Jerusalem o