But, Lazarus is dead. The head of the house, the protector, the business manager, the beloved brother could no longer join in their laughter or share their tears. The home which once was among the happiest, is now filled with gloom, darkness, and despair. The light had gone out of their lives. The sun had set.
Home can never be again what it once was.
Their home had always been the place where people would go to sing and dance, and celebrate. They made others feel loved and they rejoiced with others in the village. Opened handed hospitality is what would could expect to find from them. Their home was the preacher's home. No where on earth was Jesus more at home than when he was with Lazarus, Mary and Martha.