Asa arose early.  There was much to be done on this special day, and some of it would involve waiting in a long line.  The earlier he got started, the shorter the line and the shorter the wait.  This was the first day of the feast of unleavened bread, or Passover.  On this day all leaven had to be removed from the house, and the paschal lamb had to be slain.

There was much to be done, but there was also much to think about.  Asa had been witness to an amazing, incredible miracle several weeks before, and had been unable to think of much else ever since.  As he dressed and ate a quick breakfast, his mind again reverted to the miracle.

He had gone to Bethany to express his sympathy to his friends, Mary and Martha, concerning the death of their brother, Lazarus.  Others were there for the same purpose.  It was a doleful atmosphere.  Women were wailing, as was the custom; Mary and Martha were distraught, and the house was full of people.  A man arrived, said something to Martha, and she instantly rose and followed the newcomer out the door.  Asa noted her departure, but neither he nor any of the rest of the company followed.  She apparently had business, and the other grieving sister was still there for them to comfort.

Shortly, however, Martha returned.  She went straight to Mary and spoke something softly in her ear.  Mary’s teary eyes raised at the message, and suddenly acquired an intensity that had been lacking a moment before.  All the mourners present saw her quickly arise from her seat and follow Martha back out the door.

The two chief mourners had now left the house.  They were the ones everyone had come to see.  It was awkward to be there without them.  There was no purpose in their being there if both sisters were gone, so the entire company followed, Asa included.

They proceeded down the street, turned down another, and saw Mary and Martha join a group of men.  Mary had a tearful interview with one of them, who reciprocated her tears with some of his own.  They all then turned and followed as Mary and Martha led the way out of town.  Asa and his companions followed, now curious, and were also activated by their desire to be with and to comfort their friends in their bereavement.

The group arrived at a rocky hillside, and stood before a great stone that had been placed to cover the entrance to a cavern or hole in the face of a rocky outcrop.  Asa had never been there before, but he knew without being told that they stood before Lazarus’ tomb.  With some feelings of alarm Asa heard the man say, “Take ye away the stone.”  Asa knew that his friend Lazarus had been dead four days.  A murmur went up from the group with many protesting against the removal of the stone.  Lazarus’ body undoubtedly stunk by now, and opening the tomb would be an unnecessary, and even offensive, thing to do.  To Asa’s surprise, the sisters gave their consent.

Several of the man’s companions stepped forward, and with a great deal of effort moved the stone aside from the entrance to the cavern.  Asa was astonished as the man then said with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come forth.”  A profound silence fell over the assembly as all eyes went from the man to the door of the tomb.  Asa was dumbfounded when, in a few moments, a figure wrapped in burial clothes appeared at the opening.  The profound silence became a collective gasp, followed by the man’s command, “Loose him, and let him go.”

The figure’s face was bound by a napkin put there to hold the lifeless jaw in place.  As it was removed, there was no doubt but that their friend Lazarus stood before them—Lazarus who had been four days dead.

The joy of Mary and Martha knew no bounds.  Their tears started again, but this time were no longer activated by sorrow.  They threw themselves on their brother, hugging, holding, and kissing him—then remembering their benefactor who had brought about the reunion, tore themselves from Lazarus and fell at the feet of the man.

“Who is that?” someone asked.

“Jesus of Nazareth,” another answered.

“Then he is the Messiah,” yet another ejaculated.

“You speak blasphemy,” came the retort from several mouths.

An argument ensued over the merits and the demerits of the man and the miracle to which they’d all been witness.  Surprisingly, some were so vehement against the man that they opposed every positive thing said about him.  Others countered that he was divine, or he couldn’t have performed such a miracle.  Asa didn’t enter the verbal conflict in any way, but a burning had entered his bosom that grew greater with each passing thought.

For him there was no doubt.  He knew what he’d seen.  He’d been told other things at other times which had caused him to wonder, but now he felt certain.  He’d been told about a man named Jesus who had recently given sight to a man who had been blind from birth.  The miracle had become the talk of the whole country.  The Jewish leaders were upset about it, but there was no denying that the man who had been blind for decades could now see.

Asa had wished to see Jesus.  Now he’d not only seen him, but was eye witness to an even greater miracle than restoring sight to the blind.  Every time Asa thought of Jesus he was filled with conflicting emotions.  He felt joyful, yet anxious; peaceful, yet apprehensive.  Jesus was the long-awaited Messiah—of this he felt certain—yet there was an undercurrent of severe opposition coming from the Sanhedrin.  Why?  All the evidence was there.  Over three years earlier Asa and all Jerusalem had gone out beyond the Jordan River to a place called Bethabara to see a prophet named John.  John had baptized Asa and all the rest.  He had plainly stated that he was the prophesied forerunner to the Messiah who was even then among them.  Everything fit.  The divinity of this man was obvious.  Asa was excited, so why did he feel such foreboding?

Asa gathered the leaven that his wife had placed on the table, and carried it to the shed out back.  He put it on a high shelf, haltered his donkey, attached a lead rope, and then caught the lamb he’d purchased several days earlier.  He put a loop of rope around the lamb’s neck, looped it over the lamb’s nose, ran the rope back through the neck loop, and with the lamb thus haltered, led it and the donkey into the street.  He turned toward the temple.  It was a good-sized lamb, weighing about 75 pounds, and was not happy about being haltered and led.  It fought the rope; but Asa was stronger, and soon had the lamb following reasonably well.

Asa was not the only one in the street that morning.  There were others with their lambs and donkeys as well.  These were the early ones.  Soon the streets throughout Jerusalem would be filled with people and sheep all converging on the temple.  Every family had to have a paschal lamb for the Passover meal, and every lamb had to be slain in the temple court by the priests where its blood could be sprinkled at the foot of the altar so that it could be said to have been sacrificed.

Asa was glad to see that the line of people and lambs at the temple was not yet long.  The line would soon be horrendous.  Thousands of lambs would be slain that day.

When the priest was through with his lamb, Asa loaded the carcass on the donkey and headed for home where he’d finish the butchering himself.  The streets near the temple were now filled with people.  Asa was going against the tide.  He was glad that he’d had the foresight to come early.  There was now no more reason to hurry.  The farther he got from the temple, the thinner the traffic became.

As Asa’s need to hurry abated, his thoughts turned again to Jesus.  He pondered upon the things he’d heard.  First had been the instructions and prophecies from John.  Asa had been there and heard John himself.  He had called the people to repentance.  Asa believed, and had done his best to put his life in order.  John had instructed them to be generous to the poor.  Asa had been blessed with more than he needed, and since becoming a follower of John, had gone out of his way to notice and to help the poor.  John said to do violence to no man, nor accuse falsely.  All of Asa’s acquaintances knew him as a kindly, positive person who never spoke ill of anyone.  John said that he wasn’t the Christ, but that the Christ was even then among them.  Asa believed John.  He believed with all his heart.  He believed that Jesus was that Christ.

So lost in thought was Asa that he had ceased noticing the people around him.  He had turned into a side street where there were fewer people and animals coming toward him, and where the going was easier.  But suddenly Asa found himself face to face with a man who impeded his progress.  The man brought Asa to a dead stop.  There was no getting around him.  Asa raised his head and looked squarely at the man, asking with his eyes the reason for stopping him.  He didn’t know the man, but to Asa’s astonishment the man called him by name and said, “The Master desireth to keep the Passover at thy house with his disciples.  Make ready the guestchamber for him.”

The man looked intently at Asa, and then stepped aside into the flow of people and animals and continued on his way.  Asa looked speechlessly after him.  What was this strange message?  Who was this man?  What master?  What disciples?  Could he have been referring to Jesus who had raised Lazarus from the dead?  Jesus had a large number of men with him.  If he was still in the area, and being from Galilee, as Asa understood him to be, then he might not have a proper place to eat the Passover.

Yes.  This was surely what the man meant, but where then would Asa eat the Passover with his own family?  His wife had invited their children and grandchildren to eat with them in the upper room.  But no matter, if the Master had need of the guestchamber—if it were really He—then Asa and his family could eat where they always did.

If the Master was coming to his house, then there were things to be done.  Asa quickened his pace.  Perhaps the Master, being from out of town, wouldn’t have food.  Asa had enough and could get more.  The lamb would supply nearly 40 pounds of meat.  That would be sufficient for Asa’s family and the men he’d seen with Jesus.  They’d need cushions.  They’d need basins to wash in, and water, and towels.

Asa told his wife the things that had happened to him and instructed her to double the food she was preparing.  She didn’t question, but issued orders to the girls.  Normally it would have been the girls who would have gone to the well for water; but since they were busy, Asa asked his man servant to take the large jar, and to make several trips to the well.  He instructed him to provide enough water for the cooking and cleanup in the kitchen, and to fill the basins in the upper room.

Asa went out back and began butchering the lamb.  He had just finished the job when the servant returned from his third trip to the well.  The servant began climbing the steps to the upper room.  Two men followed him into the house.  Asa recognized them as two of the men who had been with Jesus at the raising of Lazarus.

“Are you the goodman of the house?” one asked.

“Yes, I am,” Asa answered.

The man identified himself as Peter, introduced his companion as John, and then said, “The Master saith unto thee, Where is the guestchamber, where I shall eat the Passover with my disciples?”

Asa was stunned.  He wordlessly turned, and motioned for the men to follow as he led the way to the upper room.  The men viewed the room, nodded with satisfaction, generously thanked him, and left the house.

From that time forward Asa watched for the arrival of his guests.  It was several hours before they approached.  Three men led the group.  Jesus was in the middle, and on either side of him were the men called Peter and John.  Asa opened the door to them.  The men again thanked him.  Jesus spoke no word, but as His gaze fell upon Asa, Asa became riveted to the floor.  That look—and those eyes—held a world of meaning.  Asa no longer wondered.  Asa knew.

And Asa was glad beyond measure that he had an extra room.