“Eleazar,” the old man called out, “are you refreshed after your journey through the wind-driven sand?”
“Yes, Rabboni, I am.”
“I have a heavy burden, and a long walk, and the high Sabbath is drawing near.”
“Of course, Rabboni, I will help.”
It is a heavy burden, indeed, but young Eleazar is strong. The sweet smell of myrrh and lignum aloes wafts out as he hoists the wrapped bundles onto his shoulders. Eleazar smiles a bit as he sees wizened old Nicodemus hoist a much smaller bundle of powdered herbs. The venerable teacher is tough, and surprisingly strong, but he’d invested most of the past several decades in sedentary study. Eleazar couldn’t help but think of him as one of those elders King David described as “still full of sap, still green,” in his old age. It was an honor to serve in his household.
“Where are we going, Rabboni?”
“Just outside the walls, Eleazar. My colleague Yousef’s messenger brought word that we need to bring burial spices.”
“So many, Rabboni?” Eleazar shifted the load slightly. “We have enough here for many burials, perhaps enough for three kings.”
“Indeed,” said Nicodemus.
It had been a strange day. Read more

