Stack 
 
 Annex 
 
 BT 
 
 42U 
 
 W3 
 

 
 THE LIBRARY^ 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 MRS. VIRGINIA B. SPORER
 
 LITTLZ BOOKS ON RKLIOIOIT. 
 
 EDITED BY W. ROBERTSON NiooUL 
 
 THE UPPER ROOM
 
 TTflC 
 
 UPPER ROOM 
 
 JOHN WATSON 
 (IAN MACLAREN) 
 
 r of 'Beside tkt Bennit Britr 
 Tkt D*ys of A uU Lattf Synt,' tic 
 
 NEW YORK 
 DODD, MEAD & COMPANY
 
 Copyright, 1895, by 
 JOHN WATSON. 
 
 All rights reserved,
 
 STACK ANNEX 
 
 BT 
 
 W3 
 
 TO A. B. 
 
 A 
 
 FAITHFUL FRIEND 
 
 2039155
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 MM 
 THE GOODMAN or THE HOUSB 3 
 
 THE GUEST-CHAMBER OF THE SOUL. . a$ 
 
 THE TWELVE 43 
 
 THE SHADOW or THE CROSS 6j 
 
 A LAST WISH Si 
 
 THE BEQUEST OF JESUS 97 
 
 THE LORD'S TRYSTE iif
 
 THE GOODMAN OF THE 
 HOUSE
 
 Behold, when ye are entered into the 
 city, there shall a man meet you, bearing 
 a pitcher of water : follow him into the 
 house where he entereth in. 
 
 And ye shall say unto the goodman of 
 the house 
 
 Hush, I pray you ! 
 
 What if this friend happen to be God. 
 
 BfcOWHIKO.
 
 THE GOODMAN OF THE 
 HOUSE 
 
 WHEN some one's biography is 
 written who has wrought great 
 deeds and has filled the eye of 
 the world, various discoveries 
 are made, and not the least inter- 
 esting has often been the number 
 of his private friends and the 
 closeness of their intimacy. Peo- 
 ple had supposed that they could 
 have mentioned every person 
 whom he trusted and who influ- 
 enced him, because they could 
 run over the names joined with 
 his in public affairs and heard 
 from his lips. It is forgotten 
 that this is only to know the staff 
 that ride by a general's side and 
 carry his orders on the battle- 
 field the official colleagues in a
 
 THB GOODMAN 
 
 high enterprise. The multitude 
 are not aware that this man es- 
 capes as otten as may be possible 
 trom the glare of public life, and 
 hides himself in some country 
 house where the scent of roses 
 floats in through the open win- 
 dows, and manners have a gen- 
 tle simplicity. Some tribute will 
 be found among the great man's 
 papers to an obscure friend ; 
 but no one will ever know what 
 passed between those two when 
 they sat in some quiet garden at 
 set of sun, for neither ever told ; 
 or read the letters they wrote 
 one to the other, for they are de- 
 stroyed. Had you spoken with 
 the hero's friend, he had never 
 boasted or let you understand 
 his honour. No friendship has 
 such a charm as that into which 
 the world cannot intrude, which 
 comes afterwards on the world 
 as a surprise.
 
 OF THE HOUSE 5 
 
 Jesus had His public company 
 of friends the twelve whom He 
 had selected and called to office 
 as a minister forms his cabinet, 
 as a commander appoints his 
 generals. With them He trav- 
 elled through Galilee, with them 
 He appeared in Jerusalem. He 
 instructed them in the mysteries 
 of the kingdom of God ; He 
 gave them directions for its con- 
 duct. They were to be the first 
 exemplars of the Christian faith 
 and the pioneers of the Christian 
 enterprise. Some of these might 
 be more congenial to Jesus than 
 others one was His intimate ; 
 but He called them all friends. 
 The twelve will ever be associ- 
 ated with Jesus ; they are the 
 college of the Apostles, the mis- 
 sionaries ot the Cross. But as 
 one reads the Gospels, other 
 persons emerge nke pictures 
 from the shadow in a gallery,
 
 THE GOODMAN 
 
 like unaddressed letters in a biog- 
 raphy, like initials in a diary. 
 They are persons of whom we 
 only get glimpses, or whose ac- 
 quaintance with Jesus is barely 
 mentioned. There is Nicode- 
 mus, who visited Jesus by night 
 to the astonishment of St. John 
 but who was soon afterwards 
 Jesus' friend. Joseph of Arima- 
 thea is another of whose inter- 
 course with the Master we know 
 nothing, but who was so devoted 
 to Jesus that when Apostolic 
 hearts had failed he gave Jesus 
 a tomb in his own garden. Mar- 
 tha and Mary have received 
 more notice ; but one has to 
 read the references with imagi- 
 nation to realise how Jesus, amid 
 His labours and trials, depended 
 on those pious women for rest 
 and hospitality And then there 
 is this unknown, whom we can 
 only call ' the g-oodman of the
 
 OF THE HOUSI 
 
 house,' who rivalled Joseph of 
 Arimathea in the offices of friend- 
 ship ; for if the one received 
 Jesus to his most sacred place 
 after the Passover was complete, 
 the other afforded Him his 
 choicest room wherein to keep 
 the feast. 
 
 The Gospels do not contain a 
 more winsome idyll than the 
 story of the upper room. How 
 Jesus came up to Jerusalem with 
 the multitude to keep the feast, 
 knowing that He Himself should 
 be the Passover Lamb. How 
 He was suspected, slandered, 
 maligned, harassed all the holy 
 week. How, while the poorest 
 of the people had a room of some 
 kind in which they could cele- 
 brate the great deliverance, He, 
 of whom it all spoke, had no 
 rool above His head. How He 
 was not concerned or dismayed, 
 but gave directions to His dis-
 
 THE GOODMAN 
 
 ciples as if every house in Jeru- 
 salem were open to Him. How 
 He spake as if there were an un- 
 derstanding between Him and 
 some secret acquaintance they 
 did not know. How two of the 
 disciples went full of curiosity 
 to a public fountain and looked 
 for a man carrying a pitcher of 
 water. How he gave no sign 
 at seeing them, but immediately 
 arose and went his way. How 
 they followed without hesitation 
 till he came to a certain house 
 and turned to face them at the 
 door. How they asked the 
 question that Jesus gave them, 
 and were taken at once to a 
 room prepared for the purpose. 
 How they departed and returned 
 to Jesus much wondering. The 
 secret communication between 
 the goodman of the house and 
 the Master, the appointed ren- 
 dezvous in a place where people
 
 OF THE HOUSE 
 
 vrere coming and going, the 
 carefully chosen password, the 
 loyal devotion of an unreckoned 
 disciple, are a romance, such as 
 we mostly read of in ancient 
 days, when Royalists declared 
 by stealth their devotion to some 
 hidden and disguised monarch. 
 
 One may be sure that behind 
 this simple mystery the neces- 
 sity of evil days lay a better 
 romance of friendship. One day 
 this man, a wealthy and intelli- 
 gent citizen of Jerusalem, after 
 the type of Nathanael most like- 
 ly, had heard Jesus preach, and 
 his heart was stirred as when 
 the wind bloweth on the face oi 
 the waters. He went alone and 
 quietly to Jesus not because 
 he was afraid, but because there 
 are people who will not expose 
 their soul to the multitude ana 
 they understood each other in a 
 moment. Wherever it was pos-
 
 10 THE GOODMAN 
 
 sible they met Jesus and His 
 nameless friend. When they 
 were separated by distance and 
 circumstances, they thought and 
 felt together. He was not one 
 of the apostles every disciple 
 could not be but he entered 
 into Jesus' enterprise ; he was 
 not seen by Jesus' side Judas 
 had courage for that but he 
 loved the Lord. While the 
 rulers were trying to ensnare 
 Jesus by their false questions, 
 and the silly people were chat- 
 tering about His claims, Jesus' 
 friend was considering how he 
 could help Him. Love is ever 
 thoughtful : love is ever in- 
 spired. It enters into another's 
 heart and divines his wishes. 
 ' What can I do for my friend ?' 
 ] hear *he ' goodman of the 
 house ' say to himself. ' God 
 has not made me to speak and 
 debate, and there be plenty at
 
 OF THE HOUSE II 
 
 that work. Jesus does not de- 
 sire to escape the Cross, nor is 
 He afraid : what would He most 
 desire, and what would please 
 Him most before the end ? Let 
 me give Him a chamber where- 
 in He may keep His great Pass- 
 over, and one house in Jerusa- 
 lem to be His own for the lasf 
 night. ' One would like to know 
 how Jesus looked when His 
 friend made this offer. For 
 once He had been understood ; 
 for once He would be satisfied. 
 
 This is only one chapter in a 
 long romance the friendship of 
 quiet people with Jesus. They 
 meet with Jesus by some happy 
 accident the seeing of a pic- 
 ture, the reading of a book, th& 
 hearing of a sermon and are in- 
 stantly attracted, because be- 
 tween them and Jesus there is 
 an affinity of nature. Neither 
 time nor space are conditions in
 
 It THE GOODMAN 
 
 the intercourse of the soul, and 
 so a steady friendship springs 
 up between those good men and 
 the Master, fed by many a rev- 
 elation, many an hour of com- 
 munion, many a succour in spir- 
 itual need. They are obscure 
 Christians, for their names can- 
 not be found on the roll of the 
 holy ministry or among the lead- 
 ers of the religious world. They 
 are often nameless Christians ; 
 they are not numbered in any 
 denomination or under any 
 creed- One might never asso- 
 ciate these persons with Jesus 
 at all were it not for a certain 
 distinction of manner, as if they 
 had lived in high company ; for 
 an accent in conversation which 
 is of Galilee, for a chance re- 
 mark that reminds one of the 
 Master. & It comes upon us as a 
 surprise, for none has seen this 
 man with Jesus. No, not in the
 
 OF THE HOUSE 
 
 Temple or the wayside ; but we 
 forget the sides of Olivet and 
 many a trysting-place where 
 Apostles may not be always 
 found, or may be sleeping. 
 This is one of Jesus' private 
 friends, 
 
 Times come when Jesus' pub- 
 lic friends withdraw and disap- 
 pear : these are the seasons when 
 His private friends show them- 
 selves. They are too modest 
 and self-distrustful to air them- 
 selves by His side when the peo- 
 ple strew branches on the road 
 and cry, ' Hosanna to the Son 
 ot David.' When the hosannas 
 die into silence, and the crowd 
 vanishes, they come out from the 
 shadow and claim their friend. 
 While Judas makes his bargain 
 with the priests, they anoint the 
 body of Jesus for the burial. 
 When St. John himself forgets to 
 offer the use of his house for the
 
 T4 THE GOODMAJN 
 
 Passover, they make ready an 
 upper room. When St. Peter 
 has denied that he ever knew the 
 Lord, they hurry at the moment 
 of greatest risk to own Him be- 
 fore principalities and powers. 
 Simple women have kept the 
 piety of the Church fragrant 
 when famous ecclesiastics have 
 trafficked with gold. Generous 
 hearts have sheltered a homeless 
 Christ in the poor and little chil- 
 dren, although they wrote no 
 epistles for after ages. Mystics 
 have confessed His name when 
 it was a by-word, though they 
 might not repeat it in creeds. 
 There is a secret society of the 
 friends of Jesus, and they have 
 a password of their own ; as 
 often as Jesus and they meet in 
 the busy street, a flash of intel- 
 ligence passes between them, 
 and Jesus knows that though 
 every other door in Jerusalem
 
 OF THE HOUSE 1$ 
 
 be closed, the ' goodman of the 
 house ' hath his guest-chamber 
 ready. 
 
 Certain good deeds receive 
 their wages in the daytime, and 
 certain must wait till set of sun ; 
 but some have their due recom- 
 pense both in this world and in 
 that which is to come, and to 
 this twice-blessed class belongs 
 the hospitality of Jesus' name- 
 less friend. He was not himself 
 present in the room, nor would 
 he expect to be admitted to the 
 fellowship of the Holy Apostles. 
 It was enough for him to keep 
 watch without and take order 
 that Jesus be not disturbed for 
 this brief hour before His death. 
 As Judas left, he would see 
 through the open door the per- 
 fect peace of Jesus' family, and 
 St. John's head on Jesus' breast. 
 He would catch the low, sweet 
 sound of Jesus' voice as He
 
 16 THE GOODMAN 
 
 spake in the Holy Sacrament, 
 and perhaps from his place he 
 joined in the hymn they sang 
 before Jesus went out to Geth- 
 semane. The deserted room 
 would seem desolate to him as 
 he entered where there was now 
 no feast, and the very light had 
 gone out with Jesus. With his 
 own hands, and a sad tender- 
 ness, would this goodman rear- 
 range the room where the pres- 
 ence of Jesus still lingered in the 
 couch on which He reclined, 
 and the cup He had touched. 
 Then a sudden thought would 
 enter his heart and charge it 
 with pride and gratitude and an 
 exceeding joy. Within his house 
 the Lord had kept the Passover 
 with His disciples : He had 
 given His last discourse at his 
 table t ' from his house He had 
 gone out to offer His sacrifice. 
 This room was now a sacred
 
 Or THE HOUSE I/ 
 
 place no longer for the com- 
 mon uses of life, but to be kept 
 for the Lord, if haply He should 
 return, and His friends. When 
 the disciples crept from their 
 various lodgings on the first day 
 of the week, they made as by an 
 instinct for the goodman's house, 
 and were not surprised to find 
 him waiting in the shadow of 
 the door. He knew that they 
 would come, and, as is the way 
 in our deeper hours, he led them 
 without a word to the upper 
 room. It was to that room as 
 we imagine the women came 
 with the first news of the Resur- 
 rection, the goodman being now 
 with the company ; and later in 
 the day a new Simon arrived, 
 fresh from a solitary meeting, 
 with Jesus the joy-light shin- 
 : ng through his tears and de- 
 clared for himself, ' The Lord 
 hath risen ' ; and hither hurried
 
 1 8 THE GOODMAN 
 
 back Cleopas and his companion 
 hot-foot from Emmaus to make 
 known that the Lord had been 
 seen in the breaking of bread. 
 But this favoured room was to 
 receive yet higher honour, for 
 here the doors being shut the 
 Risen Lord appeared in their 
 midst and said, ' Peace be unto 
 you.' Here He showed His 
 hands and His feet unto St. 
 Thomas ; here He breathed on 
 His disciples and said, ' Receive 
 ye the Holy Ghost ' ; here, a 
 few weeks later, the Holy Ghost 
 descended on the Church. 
 Many cathedrals have been built 
 unto the honour of Jesus' name, 
 but none can ever be so dear to 
 the Church as the goodman's 
 house. Times without number 
 have the disciples of the Lord 
 celebrated the Holy Supper, but 
 none :an be compared with the 
 evening when with His own
 
 OF THE HOUSE 19 
 
 hands Jesus gave the bread and 
 the wine. The Blessed Spirit 
 which proceedeth from the Fa- 
 ther and the Son moveth the 
 hearts of men in all ages, but it 
 can never be forgotten that He 
 descended from the Risen Lord 
 in a certain place. The Church 
 of the New Testament was born 
 in a room which the mindful hos- 
 pitality of the ' goodman ' afford- 
 ed to Jesus. 
 
 It might well seem that the 
 using of his room were enough 
 guerdon, but Jesus had still 
 something in store for His friend. 
 The last time they met beneath 
 the olives the goodman had 
 pledged Jesus to come to his 
 house before He went to the 
 Cross, and Jesus had kept the 
 tryst, as all the Church of God 
 below knoweth ; and then before 
 they parted Jesus would ple^e 
 the goodman to visit H ; TI in
 
 2O THE GOODMAN 
 
 His house after he was done 
 with earth, and one day the 
 goodman kept this other tryst, 
 as the Church of God above 
 knoweth. As a monarch in a 
 foreign land Jesus had received 
 ungrudging hospitality ; now it 
 was His opportunity to pay 
 the debt in His own country, 
 and one loves to think of the 
 meeting. His friend had dared 
 to have Jesus for his guest the 
 day before the Crucifixion, and 
 in His turn Jesus would confess 
 His friend's name before His 
 Father and the holy angels. 
 With his own hands had this 
 citizen of Jerusalem made ready 
 his best chamber for Jesus, and 
 the Master would not fail to pre- 
 pare a place for him in the heav- 
 enly city. Upon the threshold 
 had this householder met the 
 Lord and entreated Him to come 
 in, and of all who have ever
 
 OF THE HOUSB 21 
 
 passed through the gates into 
 the city, none have received a 
 more grateful welcome than 
 ' the goodman of the house.'
 
 THE GUEST-CHAMBER OF 
 THE SOUL
 
 The Master saith unto thee, Where i 
 the guest-chamber where I shall eat the 
 passover with my disciples ? 
 
 The house is not for me it is for him. 
 His Royal thoughts require many a stair, 
 Many a tovrer, many an outlook fair, 
 Of which I have no thought, and need 
 
 no care. 
 Where I am most perplexed, it may be 
 
 there 
 Thou mak'st a secret chamber, holy 
 
 dim 
 Where thou wilt come to help my deepest 
 
 prayer. 
 
 GEORGE MACDONALD.
 
 THE GUEST-CHAMBER OF 
 THE SOUL 
 
 No one can fail to notice that 
 Jesus spent His life for the most 
 part in the open air, and that the 
 Gospels carry on them the breath 
 of the country. He founded 
 His kingdom on a hill- side, 
 where the wind blew as it listed, 
 and His chosen oratory was un- 
 der the silver olive-trees. Time 
 and again Jesus fled to the des- 
 ert, where the pasture-lilies grew 
 in their unclothed multitude, or 
 to some solitary place where He 
 could be alone with God in the 
 cool and silent night. The peo- 
 ple came to see ' a young man 
 preaching in a boat/ and He 
 spoke to them of the sower that 
 went forth to sow. This Mas-
 
 26 THE GUEST-CHAMBER 
 
 ter loved to teach His disciples 
 amid the standing corn, and led 
 the outcast into the paths of 
 peace where the trees cast their 
 shadow over a Samaritan well. 
 His nation rejected Him in the 
 morning light before Pilate's 
 palace, and the Messiah was cru- 
 cified upon a green hill ' outside 
 a city wall.' Our Faith is sane 
 and reasonable, with its radiant 
 facts, its convincing principles, 
 its simple commandments, its 
 practical services, its wide sym- 
 pathies, a religion with the arch 
 of blue above its head and the 
 homely wild flowers round its 
 ieet. 
 
 It will also be remembered 
 that Jesus did not disdain human 
 homes, with their sorrow and 
 pain, their wealth also of love 
 and promise, and so it has come 
 to pass that some of the finf-sf 
 scenes in the Gospels are in-
 
 OF THE SOUL 2/ 
 
 tenors. It was at a marriage 
 feast Jesus wrought His first 
 miracle, and His glory shone 
 iorth that day as in Tintoretto's 
 picture of Cana, where the light 
 breaks on the faces of the gold- 
 en-haired Venetian women. A 
 softer light falls on Nicodemus 
 as he inquires the way of truth ; 
 and in the shadow of the room 
 St. John watches and under- 
 stands. Within Simon's inhos- 
 pitable house, St. Mary Magda- 
 lene was delivered from her 
 woeful past, when, counting that 
 her sin had dashed Christ Him- 
 self, she washed His feet with 
 her tears, and so cleansed both 
 her Saviour and herself. OAnd 
 the Church of all ages has made 
 her pious pilgrimage to the 
 goodman's house, and seen in 
 tender imagination Jesus giving 
 of His body and blood 'XD the 
 twelve in sign of the sacrifice
 
 28 THfi GUEST-CHAMBER 
 
 He had offered all His life, and 
 was next day to complete on 
 Calvary. So it is to be laid to 
 heart that our faith is also in- 
 ward, with visions when the 
 water of life turns into the wine 
 of God, with experiences when 
 the whole trend of thought is 
 changed, with repentances when 
 a broken heart ends in peace, 
 with deliverances when dumb 
 instincts of the soul turn into 
 certainty, with hours of com- 
 munion when the soul is bap- 
 tized into the spirit of Jesus' sac- 
 rifice. For one to be a Chris- 
 tian, it is only necessary that he 
 be loyal ; but to be a Christian 
 of the first order, he must be 
 mystical. Jesus still comes to 
 us in our outer life, and blessed 
 is the man who arises and fol- 
 lows Him whithersoever He 
 goes. Jesus still comes to the 
 door of the soul, and that man
 
 OF THE SOUL 29 
 
 is most blessed who receives the 
 Lord into his guest-chamber. 
 
 Jesus is the best of all the guests 
 who visit the human soul. It is 
 with the soul as with a house 
 in this matter of hospitality. 
 Houses there are where no fire 
 is lit in the guest-chamber from 
 January to December, where no 
 generous feast is placed upon 
 the board, where there is no 
 kindly excitement on the thresh- 
 old, because no guest ever rests 
 beneath that roof. The house- 
 holder may be most respectable, 
 but he can hardly have much 
 humanity, and it is certain that 
 his family will suffer loss. The 
 'coming of guests revives and 
 enriches the common life, for 
 each one has his own tale to 
 tell. His presence in the house 
 is an inspiration, and he does 
 not utterly depart with the God- 
 speed at the outer gate ; some-
 
 30 THE GUEST-CHAMBER 
 
 thing has been left behind, the 
 effect of another individuality 
 which leaves its trace on the 
 household, and a subtle fra- 
 grance, as when sandal-wood 
 has lain for a while in paper, 
 or rosemary among clothes. 
 Guests which came in the body 
 have been to many as the an- 
 gels, for they sealed the prom- 
 ises of God, and opened new 
 worlds to their faith. More 
 grateful still must be the stran- 
 gers who come in the spirit, and 
 visit our souls, the masters who, 
 being dead, yet live for ever in 
 their books and works, How 
 dreary and unwholesome must 
 be the mind whose blinds are 
 ever drawn, whose door is ever 
 locked, while the sunlight beats 
 on the roof and the merry crowd 
 sing in the street. How fa- 
 voured and content must be the 
 mind where th^ nrophets of God
 
 OF THE SOUL 3! 
 
 come, not as strangers, with for- 
 mality and diffidence, but as 
 friends that have their appointed 
 room, and use the passwords of 
 the house. He who hath Soc- 
 rates and Virgil, and Dante and 
 Shakespeare, in his guest-cham- 
 ber, need not vex himself for 
 that his house be small, because 
 nobles do not always entertain 
 such company in their castles. 
 Among all the spiritual guests 
 that cross our threshold, Jesus 
 is not only incomparably the 
 best by the excellence of His 
 Divinity, but also the most inti- 
 mate by the presence of the same 
 Divinit}' He wrote no book, 
 and does not live in books. He 
 is not distant somewhere in 
 the unseen world but present, 
 here, in the midst of human lite. 
 We do not merely read of Him 
 He speaks to us ; we do not 
 merely learn His thoughts we
 
 32 THE GUEST-CHAMBER 
 
 come to know Himself. If any 
 one receive Him into his soul, 
 Jesus comes to have a place of 
 His own that has no parallel in 
 life, and which has no proof save 
 in experience. While the pub- 
 lic come and go through the 
 house in the busy daytime, this 
 guest keeps His room ; but in 
 the quiet hours He sits with us. 
 We make Him the confidant of 
 our secrets, but in the end He 
 tells us things about ourselves 
 we have not known. We turn 
 to Him for help, but find that 
 He has promised what we were 
 about to ask. We declare a 
 good intention, only to remem- 
 ber it was His suggestion. His 
 presence is an irresistible con- 
 demnation of wrongdoing, a per- 
 petual inspiration of welldoing. 
 He joineth Himself as by an ac- 
 cident to men on the ways of 
 life and afterwards maketh as
 
 OP TflE. SOUL 33 
 
 though He would go farther. 
 When they constrain Him to 
 abide, it does not matter wheth- 
 er the soul be as a palace or a 
 cottage ; He will enter, and the 
 tenant will become a saint. 
 
 When any one receives Jesus as 
 a guest i he ought to give Him the 
 Upper Room. For it happens 
 that there are fashions in this 
 matter of spiritual hospitality ; 
 and though they be all well in- 
 tended, they are not all equally 
 successful. Some receive Jesus 
 in the public room where the 
 work of life is done, and He will 
 not despise their laborious ser- 
 vice the anxious Marthas of the 
 Christian devotion. But she 
 could have done better for Jesus. 
 Some pay Him court in that au- 
 stere room where the accounts of 
 life are kept and audited, and 
 Jesus has not come to belittle 
 their obedience, who are of St,
 
 34 THE GUEST-CHAMBER 
 
 James's righteous kind. But 
 there is something higher than 
 law. Some delight to see their 
 Master in the room that is lined 
 with books of ancient learning, 
 and Jesus hath a tender regard 
 for the St. Pauls that must know 
 the mysteries of His Person. 
 Yet is there something far above 
 theology. For some have not 
 been content to hold Jesus any- 
 where save in the room which is 
 nearest to the sky, which has 
 windows to the grey east and 
 the golden west, and all day 
 long is full of warm light ; and 
 when Jesus, wearied after many 
 fruitless journeys, is brought 
 within the door, He is satisfied, 
 as one who has come home. 
 This ; s sometimes called St. 
 John's room, because he wrote 
 pleasantly about it and the things 
 he had seen from its windows ; 
 and no one will gainsay that it
 
 or THE SOUL 35 
 
 is the Upper Room. For work 
 is good, and righteousness is 
 good, and knowledge is good, 
 but best of all is love. And all 
 the other rooms in the soul are 
 gathered under love. Be sure 
 he will not fail in sacrifice who 
 loves the Lord ; his conscience 
 will be tender that is bathed in 
 love, and no one can know deep 
 mysteries who does not love. 
 Love is Jesus' chosen guest- 
 chamber, and he that has Jesus 
 for a guest has power, and good- 
 ness, and truth, and God. 
 
 Jesus needeth a large Upper 
 Room, for it is His habit to travel 
 with a band of friends. He did 
 not like to be alone in His life, 
 save when He separated Himself 
 for a space, and retired into the 
 secret place of God. His de- 
 light was to gather congenial 
 men to His side, and travel in 
 the paths of life with them. He
 
 36 THE GUEST-CHAMBER 
 
 Chared the round of human ex- 
 perience with His disciples, ex- 
 cept certain last trials which He 
 kept for His own special share, 
 and revealed Himself to them so 
 familiarly that they have given 
 us a likeness of Him more pre- 
 cious than all the books in the 
 world. During the centuries 
 He has been ever adding to the 
 number of His friends with a 
 very wide charity, and now He 
 seeks hospitality for a large com- 
 pany. Any one who gave a 
 feast to Jesus in Galilee had to 
 count on twelve disciples also : 
 but he were a shrewd calculator 
 that could now estimate the 
 number of His following. There 
 are those who would fain have 
 Jesus without His friends, but 
 the Master does not relish this 
 invitation, for He considereth 
 that if we have not love enough 
 to afford them house room we
 
 OF THE SOUL 37 
 
 can have very little for Him. 
 There are those whose guest- 
 chamber is so small that they 
 think it impossible to squeeze in 
 the disciples however much they 
 desired, in which case it is high 
 time they were building a wider, 
 airier Upper Room ; and per- 
 haps there may be certain who 
 would stand at the lower door 
 and discriminate admitting one 
 and refusing another. These 
 good folk forget that where a 
 royal personage honoureth a 
 house he invites his own com- 
 pany, and also that they might 
 make mistakes for ever to be re- 
 gretted, letting in Judas Iscariot 
 and shutting out Judas not Is- 
 cariot. It is the chief loss of 
 life to miss entertaining Jesus, 
 but it would be a severe loss also, 
 if it be indeed possible to have 
 the Master without His disci- 
 ples, since each one (even Judas
 
 38 THE GUEST CHAMBER 
 
 at a time) can tell us something 
 of Jesus. They do themselves 
 an injury that have likes and dis- 
 likes among the friends of Jesus. 
 Our wisdom, to say nothing of 
 our charity, is to show hospital- 
 ity to every one that has lived 
 with Jesus, for so will come to 
 our lowly roof, not only St. 
 John and St. Paul, but also 
 Tauler and Thomas a Kempis, 
 St. Francis and St. Bernard, 
 George Herbert and Jeremy 
 Taylor, John Bunyan and Rich- 
 ard Baxter, Samuel Rutherford 
 and Archbishop Leighton, with 
 many others of various creeds, 
 but of one Love. The) 7 will be 
 acceptable guests, and this curi- 
 ous thing will come to pass, that 
 with every new guest our room 
 will grow larger, until at last 
 it will seem as if our poor 
 guest-chamber, like thai of 
 the 'goodman of the house/
 
 OF THE SOUL 39 
 
 held the whole Church of 
 God. 
 
 Jesus is satisfied with very sim- 
 ple furnishing, as is plain if any 
 one will take an inventory of the 
 ' goodman's ' room. An ewer 
 full of clean cold water at the 
 door, that the feet soiled on life's 
 journey may be cleansed before 
 entering into the Divine fellow- 
 ship. There must also be a tow- 
 el that, after the Master's exam- 
 ple, proud disciples, contending 
 who shall be greatest, may be 
 compelled for shame's sake to 
 lay aside their highmindedness, 
 as one strips off a coat, and learn 
 to serve. Purity and humility 
 go far to make a fair chamber 
 for Jesus, and one other thing 
 only is needed faith. The 
 goodman provided a table, but 
 he left it to Jesus to bring the 
 feast, and Jesus ever desireth the 
 empty soul that He may fill it
 
 40 THE GUEST-CHAMBER 
 
 with His grace. In the refec- 
 tory of San Marco of Florence 
 there is a very pleasant picture 
 wherein St. Dominic is seated 
 at table with his monks, and he 
 is asking a blessing over cups 
 that have no wine and platters 
 without bread. His compan- 
 ions are amazed, but even while 
 the saint is praying the angels 
 of God are moving unseen 
 through the room, carrying that 
 bread of which if any man eat 
 he shall never hunger again. 
 For it cometh to pass in this hos- 
 pitality that if any one furnisheth 
 a chamber for Jesus he shall 
 find he is the guest, and Jesus 
 has become the Host.
 
 THE TWELVE
 
 " He sat down and the twelve apostle! 
 with Him." 
 
 " As for me, I am of the order of all 
 the saints, and all the saints are of my 
 order." La Mire Angtliyut.
 
 THE TWELVE 
 
 ALL the words of Jesus are pre- 
 cious, but one is inclined to ar- 
 range them into an ascending 
 series alter the fashion of the 
 ' Paradiso.' Jesus first of all 
 laid down the principles, condi- 
 tions, characteristics, and aims 
 of His new society in the Ser- 
 mon on the Mount. This is the 
 character of the kingdom of 
 God. Later He describes the 
 growth, struggles, dangers, and 
 hindrances of the kingdom in 
 the Parable of the Sower, and 
 its companions. This is the his- 
 tory of the Kingdom. By-and- 
 bye He goes deeper, and in the 
 synagogue of Capernaum He 
 unfolds His idea of life how
 
 44 THE TWELVE 
 
 death is the gate of life and men 
 must eat His Flesh and drink 
 His Blood. This is the secret 
 of the kingdom. And then, be- 
 fore Jesus went to the cross, He 
 assembled His little band of fol- 
 lowers round a common table 
 and told them that love was the 
 one bond of union in heaven and 
 earth. This is the fellowship of 
 the kingdom of God. So Jesus 
 met His disciples in the outer 
 court of the Law, and led 
 them into the heart of the 
 Father. 
 
 Among the discourses of Jesus, 
 the one in the Upper Room 
 stands alone, and a certain cir- 
 cumstance doubles its interest 
 It is a conversation, and the con- 
 versations of Jesus have a pecul- 
 iar attraction. There are two 
 people Jesus and another and 
 the other is my representative. 
 He has his difficulty, Jesus re-
 
 THE TWELVE 45 
 
 moves it ; he falls into some mis- 
 take, Jesus corrects it ; he asks 
 his question, Jesus answers it. 
 It is my case he states. When 
 he is satisfied, so am I. I am in 
 turn Nicodemus and Nathanael. 
 I am the woman of Samaria and 
 the young ruler. Without these 
 people, their stupidity, their 
 earnestness, their agony, their 
 relief, the Gospels had been 
 poorer. They gave play to the 
 patience and wisdom of Jesus ; 
 they called forth His grace and 
 compassion. Jesus' chief con- 
 versation took place when He 
 sat down with the apostles at 
 the Last Supper. There were 
 twelve guests, and six spoke br 
 word or deed. As each comes 
 forward, one can identify the 
 type and recognise himself. 
 When all have uttered them- 
 selves, the Church ot Christ is 
 revealed in miniature, as it has
 
 46 iriE TWELVE 
 
 stood before the world for eigh- 
 teen centuries. 
 
 It comes as a surprise that one 
 class of religious people is unrep- 
 resented : no disciple is per- 
 fect. With a single exception 
 they were honest men, who be- 
 lieved in Jesus, who had follow- 
 ed Him loyally, who loved the 
 kingdom of God and had given 
 their lives to its service. But 
 their minds wern darkened by 
 ignorance, their hearts were be- 
 set by sin, their lives were too 
 sadly dominated by self, their 
 wills were still infirm. They 
 had not finished their battle ; 
 they had not won their race. 
 They were just beginning to 
 fight just stripping themselves 
 for the course. No man had 
 come to his full height, not even 
 John, faking them all in all 
 these pioneers cf Christendom 
 they wer^ not conspicuously
 
 THE TWELVE 47 
 
 wiser, truer, bolder, nor, even 
 including Judas, more worldly, 
 false, cowardly than twelve 
 Christians of to-day. They had 
 still to be made, and one of 
 them would break finally, as it 
 appears, in the firing. They 
 sat with Jesus in the Upper 
 Room, fairly well satisfied with 
 themselves, but they would 
 have to pass through much dis- 
 cipline before they sat down at 
 the marriage supper of the 
 Lamb. One of them was to fall 
 before he could learn to stand ; 
 one would be quickly put to the 
 sword not the least fortunate ; 
 one would be left alone in his 
 old age most tried, most puri- 
 fied, most loved of all ; some 
 would wander far and wide be- 
 yond our ken. Jesus would 
 keep every true man and give 
 him the victory. They wanted 
 thrones, and lesus grave them
 
 THE TWELVE 
 
 the cross ; but they got their 
 thrones in the end, that handful 
 of Jewish peasants, and are judg- 
 ing the twelve tribes of Israel 
 to-day. Jesus was not amazed 
 that they were imperfect ; Jesus 
 was not impatient with their 
 faults. If perfection be the con- 
 dition of discipleship in the 
 Christian society, then honest 
 men will be obliged to go out, 
 beginning at the best down to 
 the worst. Jesus will be left 
 alone with the Pharisees. 
 
 It is the false disciple who is 
 the trial of Jesus, and Judas was 
 the first to put himself in evi- 
 dence. This was not because 
 he had anything to say : his 
 speaking had been done else- 
 where and his cue now was si- 
 lence. His deed stood in place 
 of word's and lifted him into 
 prominence, for the moment the 
 most exacting and influential of
 
 THE TWELVE 49 
 
 the twelve. Jesus was unable 
 to look on Judas and hold His 
 peace. Here was a man who 
 had been called to the apostolate 
 and had pledged himself to the 
 cause, who had worked with 
 Jesus, lived with Jesus, called 
 Jesus Lord for three years ; who 
 had been moved by false am- 
 bition from the beginning ; who 
 had worn a mask in the most 
 sacred presence ; who had mis- 
 used the slender means of the 
 little fellowship ; who had ar- 
 ranged to make something tangi- 
 ble out of his Master ; who had 
 arranged that Jesus should be 
 betrayed where He prayed in 
 Gethsemane. One does not im- 
 agine Judas as a man of evil 
 looks or unbelieving speech : 
 more likely he was an ingratiat- 
 ing personage with an easy flow 
 of noble sentiments. He be- 
 trayed Jesus with a polite man- 
 
 D
 
 5O THE TWELVE 
 
 ner. Many men are far more 
 trying than Judas, and play the 
 fool as this astute man never 
 would. But one's moral sense 
 has no doubt that Judas is the 
 worst type in life. One may 
 pardon his friend if he be a 
 drunkard or a miser, or if he be 
 filled with pride or be the vic- 
 tim of an evil temper ; but there 
 is no way of living- with false- 
 hood. Treachery breaks friend- 
 ship : it cannot be endured. 
 The presence of Judas was hea- 
 vier on Jesus than the cross. 
 While that face was in the room 
 Jesus could not speak with free- 
 dom ; He could hardly breathe. 
 As soon as Judas departed ' it 
 was night ' without, but within, 
 a load was lifted from the soul 
 of Jesus and He cried : ' Now is 
 ihe Son of Man glorified.' Yet 
 [he Master did His best by Ju- 
 das, and would fain have saved
 
 THE TWELVE 
 
 him from himself. He kept Ju- 
 das by His side after the charac- 
 ter of the man had appeared ; 
 He declared in Galilee tne spirit 
 that lived in him ; He let him 
 know in Jerusalem that his plots 
 were an open secret. Jesus 
 ^ave Judas one opportunity after 
 another of confession. As He 
 washed his feet, the touch of 
 Jesus' hand ; when He offered 
 him the sop, the look on Jesus' 
 !ace ; when He told him to do 
 his work quickly, the sound of 
 Jesus' voice, were means of 
 grace. If, at this last moment, 
 he had cast himself on his Mas- 
 ter's mercy, we should have 
 mentioned his name to-day the 
 chief sinner saved. Ju^s was 
 to be Jesus' failure. 
 
 After Judas went out Peter 
 took occasion to declare that he 
 would die for Jesus, and after- 
 wards he denied Jesus ; but we
 
 52 THE TWELVE 
 
 must never confound the cow- 
 ardice of Peter with the treach- 
 ery of Judas. This Apostle was 
 a bundle of logical and moral in- 
 consistencies. He confessed 
 Jesus to be the Son of God, and 
 yet would give Him advice. 
 He would strike a hasty blow 
 for Jesus, and yet could not 
 watch with Him one hour. He 
 would go to meet Him on the 
 water, and yet was afraid he 
 should be drowned. He saw 
 Christ's holiness so clearly one 
 day that he was confounded, but 
 at another time he tempted his 
 Lord like Satan himself. He 
 was the bravest man of the 
 Twelve in the Upper Room ; in 
 the High Priest's palace he 
 swore Jesus was a stranger. If 
 one were to go by the bare evi- 
 dence of facts it would be im- 
 possible to prove Peter an hon- 
 est man : if one estimates the
 
 THE TWELVE 5J 
 
 trend of character Peter cannot 
 be cast out. Send him after 
 Judas if you please, you have 
 not got rid of Peter : he only 
 remains outside the door weep- 
 ing bitterly. He stands for 
 that enormous class who are a 
 patent perplexity in the eyes of 
 the Church, the world, and 
 themselves. The smoke is driv- 
 en to and fro by sudden gusts 
 of wind, and yet, in spite of all, 
 it is still ascending. The life is 
 blazing with contradictions, but 
 the heart follows Christ. 
 
 Thomas speaks next, who was 
 a complete contrast to Peter, 
 both in his strength and weak- 
 ness. This was no creature of 
 impulses and emotions first to 
 confess, to promise, to strike, to 
 flee ; but a strong, silent, re- 
 served, gloomy nature. Very 
 slowly would this man make up 
 his mind, and very severely
 
 54 THE TWELVE 
 
 would he try all the evidence, 
 but where he took his stand, he 
 would stand, and there also he 
 would die. He has vindicated 
 the right of scepticism within 
 the Church ; for he was by vir- 
 tue of his questioning nature, a 
 sceptic, and by virtue of his loy- 
 alty, a Christian. The charac- 
 teristic of Thomas is not that he 
 doubted that were an easy pass- 
 port to religion but that he 
 doubted and loved. His doubt 
 was the measure of his love : his 
 doubt was swallowed up in love. 
 This is the reason John under- 
 stood Thomas, because they 
 were both great lovers of Jesus. 
 He declared his belief that if 
 Jesus went to Bethany he would 
 be killed, but in the same breath 
 Thomas declared his intention 
 of going to die with Him He 
 was certain that Jesus had not 
 risen from the dead, but was
 
 THE TWELVE 55 
 
 plainly broken-hearted on that 
 account. Confessions he could 
 not make. Neither was he capa- 
 ble of denials. He was not good 
 at believing ; his strength lay in 
 loving. His views were dim 
 and defective, but he clung with 
 the affection of a dumb animal 
 to Jesus. ' Whither I go ye 
 know,' said Jesus, ' and the way 
 ve know.' Thomas protested 
 at once against such reckless 
 drafts upon his faith. ' We 
 know nothing, Lord, but Thy- 
 self ; ' which may be enough in 
 the end, for Jesus said, ' Thou 
 knowest all then. I am the 
 way, the truth and the life.' 
 
 Jesus' conversation with Tho- 
 mas was a little trying to a 
 fourth Apostle whose mind was 
 alien to every kind of specula- 
 tion. Philip was the very type 
 of plain downright common 
 sense, the mind to whom the
 
 56 THE TWELVE 
 
 multiplication-table will ever be 
 the model for a creed. It was 
 he who calculated how many 
 pennyworths of bread it would 
 take to feed the multitude, and 
 who met Nathanael's difficulties 
 about Jesus with an abrupt 
 ' Come and see.' Philip could 
 hardly be patient with Thomas, 
 who seemed always in a fog ; 
 he became a little impatient even 
 with Jesus when He .spoke of 
 seeing the Father. As a matter 
 of fact, they had not seen the 
 Father, but a theophany was 
 what they did want. ' Show us 
 the Father and it sufficeth us.' 
 Good, worthy Philip : one real- 
 ises as by a flash the limits of tri- 
 umphant common sense. Relig- 
 ion demands some insight, some 
 imagination, some spirituality ; 
 it is not exhausted in every day 
 duty. Philip is an average Eng- 
 lishman ; his faith, with many
 
 THE TWELVE 
 
 robust excellences, wants the 
 touch of Celtic mystery, but it 
 can always be depended on to 
 produce righteousness. 
 
 No one else interrupted Jesus 
 till He spoke of the way in 
 which He would manifest Him- 
 self to His disciples and not to 
 the world. This distinction ex- 
 cited a disciple who makes his 
 solitary appearance on this oc- 
 casion, and who is known as Ju- 
 das, not Iscariot. Tradition has 
 it that he was an ultra Jew and 
 one of Jesus' most bigoted fol- 
 lowers. Very likely he had 
 been alarmed by the unlimited 
 charity of Jesus and the promis- 
 cuous gathering of the Christian 
 Church. Tesus at last recog- 
 nised the right of His friends to 
 some exclusive privileges, and 
 was prepared to safeguard them 
 by some barrier. Jesus would 
 manifest Himself to the few
 
 58 THE TWELVE 
 
 that was right ; He would not 
 manifest Himself to the many 
 that also was right. But how ? 
 Judas was anxious to learn the 
 condition of this esoteric com- 
 munion Judas expected some 
 sign, or rite, or creed, to be the 
 separating line between cove- 
 nanted and uncovenanted peo- 
 ple. Jesus answered, Love. If 
 any one loved the wide world 
 over, in him God would dwell. 
 It was a delicate rebuke to Ju- 
 das, and one always enjoys the 
 chastisement of bigotry. But 
 let us not be too hard on the 
 Judas type, calling it narrow 
 and obscurantist. Let us do its 
 members justice. Judas may 
 not be liberal be sure he wil 
 be loyal and if he may think it. 
 right to send you to the stake, 
 he will also go himself to the 
 death for conscience' sake. Ju- 
 das he is. bu+ not Iscariot.
 
 THE TWELVE 
 
 One disciple has heard every 
 word which was said in the Up- 
 per Room, and by-and-bye he 
 will write the history in his Gos- 
 pel. Meanwhile John lays his 
 head on Jesus' breast and keeps 
 silence. Why should he speak ? 
 What question had the beloved 
 disciple to ask ? Judas's treach- 
 ery had not come as a surprise 
 on John, for his instincts had 
 made him shrink from the false 
 soul. He needed not to inquire 
 the way to Heaven, for the inti- 
 mate of Jesus had been walking 
 therein for three years. For 
 him no physical theophany was 
 needed who had looked on the 
 face of Jesus. What were mys- 
 teries to other men who had only 
 sight, were revelations to him 
 who had vision. A sceptic must 
 question and argue, it is his ne 
 cessity : a mystic has only to 
 learn and listen, it is his felicitj.
 
 6o THE TWELVE 
 
 Once John did speak, but it was 
 not for himself. Peter wished 
 to know who should betray 
 Jesus, and made his appeal 
 through John. ' Lord, who is 
 it?' whispered John with a 
 friend's liberty. A mystic gath- 
 ers truth as a plant absorbs the 
 light, in silence and without ef- 
 fort. His service to his breth- 
 ren is to ask secrets of the Lord. 
 
 Six typical men a false disci- 
 ple, a faulty disciple, a sceptical 
 disciple, a practical disciple, a 
 narrow disciple, a mystical dis- 
 ciple ; and yet, with one excep- 
 tion, there is a place for each in 
 the fellowship of Christ. 
 
 Six disciples, and for them alt 
 one Lord, who unveils Judas, 
 sending him forth to finish his 
 work and to die of remorse : 
 who rebukes the self-confidence 
 of Peter and foretells his bitter 
 humiliation ; who takes Thomas
 
 THE TWELVE 6 1 
 
 by the hand and leads him 
 through the darkness ; who of- 
 fers to Philip the sure evidence 
 of His life and works ; who 
 loosens the bonds of Judas, not 
 Iscariot, and brings him into a 
 large place ; who satisfies John 
 with Himself and His love, one 
 glorious Christ who is unto each 
 disciple what he needed and 
 more than he imagined, a place 
 of ' broad rivers and streams,' 
 Judge, Saviour, Prophet, Mas- 
 ter, Deliverer, Friend.
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE 
 CROSS
 
 Jesus knew that His hour was come. 
 
 Many soul-longings 
 Have I had in my day, 
 Now the hope of my life 
 Is that tree of triumph 
 Ever to turn to. 
 
 CiEDMON.
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE 
 CROSS 
 
 ONE of the modern masters, 
 touched by the ancient spirit of 
 religious art, has given us the 
 interior of the Carpenter's house 
 at Nazareth, when the hour is 
 4 toward evening and the day is 
 far spent.' The mellow light of 
 the setting sun floods the work- 
 shop, bringing into relief every 
 shaving on the floor and the 
 rough tools hanging on the wall, 
 and softens the distant blue seen 
 through an open window. The 
 Carpenter has had a long day 
 and after many hours of striving 
 and toiling is wearily stretching 
 Himself in the doorway. Stand- 
 ing at full height, with upturned 
 face and extended arms, His 
 
 E
 
 66 THE SHADOW 
 
 form cast a shadow across the 
 poor room, and a woman kneel- 
 ing in a corner recognises the 
 ominous outlines of the Cross 
 and the Crucified Man. In this 
 picture art has represented with 
 much insight that feature of 
 Jesus' life which distinguishes it 
 from every other, and has in- 
 vested it with a lonely, unap- 
 proachable sadness. It was not 
 a life which happened to end on 
 a Cross, a woeful tragedy : it 
 was a life perpetually under the 
 shadow of a Cross a calculated 
 sacrifice. It was a day divided 
 
 into hours and the great hour 
 was Calvary. Wherefore it is 
 
 written, ' When Jesus knew thaf 
 His hour was come.' 
 
 The goal of our vision and ef- 
 fort is not the valley of death 
 but the gates of life. A young 
 mother holds the first-born in 
 her arms and prays that she may
 
 OF THE CROSS 6/ 
 
 see him one day a man in his 
 prime. His father dreams ot 
 the work the boy may do when 
 his own race has been run. The 
 lad sees the long day stretch be- 
 fore him and imagines what he 
 will achieve before sunset. The 
 man in the heat of life strives 
 and toils that he may finish his 
 life work. And the patriarch 
 forgets his years as he lives 
 afresh in his children's children. 
 We are not born that we may 
 die, but that we may live : we 
 labour that we may live more 
 abundantly. We fix our minds 
 on living, we guard ourselves 
 against death. The will of God 
 for men is life, and the Bible is 
 the record of life, full, free, re- 
 joicing ; of men who loved, who 
 married, who did great works, 
 who died in old age. For one 
 Man only was there another 
 will, of one Man's death only
 
 68 THE SHADOW 
 
 does the Bible make more than 
 His life. This is singular and 
 deserving to be noted, for as it 
 is the sign of ordinary books to 
 make much of death it belongs 
 unto the grandeur of the Bible 
 to speak ever of life. The Evan- 
 gelists wrote from the foot of 
 the Cross and have a certain 
 note of Calvary. Two record 
 that Jesus was born of a Virgin 
 Mother ; four that He was cru- 
 cified ; two that He had a sore 
 conflict with the Evil One ; four 
 that He was crucified ; two that 
 He spake the last words on char- 
 acter ; four that He was cruci- 
 fied. The world could not con- 
 tain the books that might be 
 written about His life, but it 
 seemed unto His friends the 
 chief event that Jesus died. 
 
 When Jesus sat down with the 
 Twelve, the Bread and Wine on 
 the table were the prophecy of
 
 OF THE CROSi 69 
 
 His crucifixion, but long before, 
 the omens of death had attended 
 Him. Before He was born 
 Prophets described His suffer- 
 ings, Priests had pictured his 
 sacrifice, Poets had sung His 
 requiem. As soon as born He 
 was baptized with blood in the 
 massacre of the Innocents ; and 
 His Mother could not present 
 Him without being told that a 
 sword would pierce her heart. 
 When the Baptist saw Him in 
 the beginning of His ministry, 
 the Forerunner identified Him 
 as the Passover Lamb ; and the 
 High Priest could not think of 
 Him without declaring that it 
 was expedient that He should 
 die, so clearly did all men de- 
 tect the mysterious shadow that 
 marks those appointed unto 
 death. He was not blind to the 
 direction of His life and through 
 His teaching runs ever a sombre
 
 70 THE SHADOW 
 
 thread. He is the Temple which 
 is going to be destroyed, the 
 heir who is to be killed, the fruit 
 of that which is to fall into the 
 ground, the Shepherd who is to 
 lay down His life. He sees 
 Himself in the sacrifices of He- 
 brew worship ; He reads Him- 
 self into the most plaintive 
 prophecies ; He allies Himself 
 with the martyrs slain in Jerusa- 
 lem. When His disciples desire 
 to share His throne, He tells 
 them they must drink His cup : 
 when a devoted woman anoints 
 His Body He explains that it is 
 for His burial. If He hides 
 Himself it is only that He may 
 not die before His time ; if He 
 offers any defence it is for the 
 sake of His disciples. He kept 
 a traitor among His disciples 
 and told him to do his work 
 quickly. He forbade a sword 
 to be drawn for His help and
 
 OF THE CROSS 7! 
 
 offered Himself to the soldiers. 
 He preached, He arranged, He 
 journeyed, He prepared for 
 death. Other men rise step by 
 step till they stand on a breezy 
 table-land where they live : this 
 man went down till the shadows 
 deepened into the darkness ot 
 Calvary. 
 
 Three times, during His pub- 
 lic lite, did Jesus anticipate the 
 end, and stand face to face with 
 the Cross. He declared to an 
 astonished Pharisee who had 
 come to speak with Him regard 
 ing the Kingdom of God, that 
 he must one day be lifted up 
 like the serpent in the wilder- 
 ness ; and Nicodemus under- 
 stood that dark saying when he 
 took down Jesus' body from the 
 Cross. He began a sermon in 
 the Synagogue of Capernaum 
 by speaking about the Bread of 
 Life, and then under the inevita-
 
 THE SHADOW 
 
 ble attraction Jesus passed from 
 the white and innocent bread to 
 flesh and blood, seeing, as it 
 were through an open door 
 against the kindly Galilean blue, 
 the empty Cross inviting Him. 
 On His last journey the disciples 
 marked with awe that His face 
 was set as one who is straitened 
 till his work be done, and they 
 never forgot how He took them 
 aside to tell them of His coming 
 death while the people passed 
 in their joy to keep the Pass- 
 over Feast. 
 
 With the Resurrection it 
 might have been expected that 
 the Cross would have been ob- 
 literated, but it only reappeared 
 in the consciousness of the 
 Church. While other leaders 
 of men are remembered because 
 they lived, this Man asked it to 
 be remembered that He died. 
 The sign of identification He
 
 OF THE CROSS 73 
 
 r 
 
 gave to a doubting disciple was 
 the marks in His hands and feet, 
 and of all the risen Christs in 
 art, the best is that of Sarto, be- 
 cause the face has the sad mys- 
 tery of one who had suffered 
 and the crossed hands have still 
 the wound prints. St. Paul only 
 touches lightly on the life of 
 Jesus, but the Cross is to him 
 the starting-point and end of all 
 his teaching and St. John saw 
 in the midst of the throne a 
 Lamb as He was slain. After 
 pious hands had removed Jesus' 
 body the soldiers carried away 
 the two rude beams on which 
 He had died, and one visiting 
 Calvary on Good Friday even- 
 ing had seen no sign of the great 
 tragedy save trampled grass and 
 a few drops of blood. Within a 
 few years another Cross was set 
 up, mystical and eternal, whose 
 shape is like unto a throne
 
 74 THE SHADOW 
 
 whose shadow has reached unto 
 the ends of the earth. 
 
 The Upper Room has grown 
 into a universal Church with all 
 kinds and conditions of men, but 
 the Host remains unchanged 
 and is for ever thought of as giv- 
 ing His broken Body and shed 
 Blood. Theology has many de- 
 partments, but the most fruitful 
 and effectual is that which ex- 
 pounds the Death of Jesus. Re- 
 ligious art has done her best by 
 the Annunciation, the Nativity, 
 the Ascension, the Judgment, 
 but has reached her height in a 
 Crucifixion. If Christians ask 
 to be delivered from their sins 
 it is by the Cross and Passion of 
 Jesus, and if they declare their 
 faith it is in Him who was cru- 
 cified and who overcame the 
 sharpness of death. Christian 
 hymnology has found her deep- 
 est inspiration at thr *>oss
 
 OF THE CROSS 7$ 
 
 Christian worship comes to a 
 height in the celebration of 
 Jesus' Death. The Church of 
 Christ has made her home be- 
 neath the shadow of the Cross. 
 
 Had one questioned the little 
 band that evening how Jesus' 
 death would be of any good unto 
 them or the world, then it is 
 likely that St. John himself had 
 been silent. Much has been 
 written since by devout schol- 
 ars, and some of their words 
 have helped and some have hin- 
 dered, and the reason of the 
 great mystery of sacrifice has 
 not yet been declared. After 
 all has been said the weary heart 
 turns from learned books to the 
 Upper Room, where, as He 
 once gave the signs, so now for 
 ever Jesus giveth Himself to all 
 that will take Him and His 
 Cross ; and this thing alone is 
 certain that every one who tak-
 
 76 THE SHADOW 
 
 eth Him with an honest heart is 
 made clean and strong. There 
 is one modern Crucifixion which 
 is perfectly satisfying because it 
 leaves everything beyond Jesus 
 and the soul to the imagination. 
 It is a space of black darkness, 
 with some dim strokes of light, 
 and as you try to pierce the 
 gloom they suggest the form of 
 a Crucified Man. The face is 
 faintly visible and a ray from 
 the forehead striking downwards 
 reveals a kneeling figure at the 
 foot of the Cross. Within the 
 secret place of this mystery the 
 human soul and Jesus meet and 
 become one. 
 
 It seemed as if none could be 
 weaker than Jesus in the Upper 
 Room and that His weakness 
 was the Cross. No one in real- 
 ity was heir to such dominion 
 and glory, and the guarantee of 
 the fitness was the Cross. The
 
 OF THE CROSS 77 
 
 sympathy of the Cross is his- 
 tory, and in all ages, as often as 
 the world falls to pieces round a 
 man, he takes him to the shelter 
 of the Crucified. When an 
 earthquake swept along the Ri- 
 viera, the priest and people of 
 one little village, perched on the 
 hillside, were at early service, 
 and they saw their church begin 
 to shake. One place only was 
 immovable, the altar : one fig- 
 ure only was untouched, the 
 Christ above it. Round His 
 feet the terrified people gath- 
 ered and were safe. Next day 
 the Man of Sorrows looked 
 down on the waste of ruins an^ 
 His face was full of compassion.
 
 A LAST WISH
 
 This do in remembrance of me. 
 
 He was the Word that spake it, 
 He took the bread and brake it, 
 And what that Word did make it 
 I doe beleeve and take it. 
 
 DONNE,
 
 A LAST WISH 
 
 No human being lives who does 
 not desire to be remembered 
 alter he has departed from this 
 world, and in proportion to the 
 loyalty of his own love will be 
 the strength of this passion. It 
 would add a new horror to death 
 to think that one was no sooner 
 out of sight than he was also out 
 of mind, and had no longer any 
 place in the thoughts of those 
 with whom he lived and la- 
 boured, whom he loved and 
 served. \Vhat avail is there in 
 life which is so soon dissipated ? 
 ' What treasure is there in love 
 which so quickly fades ? ' It 
 would rob death of half its sting 
 to be assured that daily your 
 
 F
 
 82 A LAST WISH 
 
 face would live before the vision 
 of faithful hearts, and your mem- 
 ory, with redeeming faults as 
 well as some few excellences, be 
 kept green by unchanging affec- 
 tion. Few contrasts come near- 
 er to the tears of things than two 
 graves side by side in a dreary 
 city cemetery. On the one the 
 grass grows rank and unrelieved, 
 though the latest date be only a 
 year old, while on the other the 
 forget-me-nots are flowering, 
 and there are fresh signs of a 
 ten years' vigil. This name 
 needed not to be graven on 
 stone for it has been printed for 
 ever on some fond heart. 
 
 Our Master was most human 
 in the Upper Room, and with 
 His last wish suggests irresisti- 
 bly a mother's farewell. She 
 does not remind her children 
 that she has done all things for 
 them at sore cost, for this was
 
 A LAST WISH 83 
 
 her joy. Nor does she make 
 demands of hard service now 
 any more than in the past. But 
 one thing the mother hungereth 
 and thirsteth for, and desireth 
 not with words only but with 
 her eyes as she looketh round 
 on those she can no longer serve, 
 but will ever love. ' Do not 
 forget me ' how few and short 
 the words, how full and strong 
 are they written out at large. 
 ' Live as I would wish, believe 
 as I have believed : meet me 
 where I go,' all that is the pray- 
 er, but mostly this, ' Think of 
 me, realise me love me till we 
 stand once more face to face. 
 After the same fashion of the 
 heart, which is the same in all 
 ages, in God also as in man, 
 Jesus looked round the Twelve 
 gathered at the Holy Table. 
 For three years he had giveD 
 everything to them, and they
 
 84 A LAST WISH 
 
 had given nothing to Him. He 
 had called them by name and 
 opened to them the Kingdom of 
 God. He had loosed the intol- 
 erable burden of their sins, and 
 answered the secret longings of 
 their souls. Already He was 
 planning how they might escape 
 from the hatred of His enemies, 
 so that not one of them who had 
 been blessed by His life should 
 suffer in His death. One thing 
 only they could do for their 
 Lord, one thing He desired of 
 them, with that He would go to 
 the Cross content. He could 
 endure Calvary, but not that He 
 be forgotten by John and Peter 
 and the company of the three 
 years. The Sacrament of the 
 Lord's Supper is a very great 
 mystery, and it is the means of 
 conveying unspeakable bless- 
 ings, but the Lord intended that 
 the Bread and Wine should first
 
 A LAST WISH 85 
 
 of all win tor Him His one re- 
 quest that He be remembered. 
 
 Has it not come to pass with 
 many Christian folk that the 
 good Lord who loveth us is to 
 their minds little else than a pic- 
 ture of fine colours in a golden 
 Irame, and that He is not thought 
 of as utter flesh and blood who 
 can bear anything, be it ever 
 so cruel and shameful, for His 
 friends, but whose heart will 
 break if lie should be forgotten. 
 Yet, is not this the Lord most of 
 us need, in whom we would be 
 satisfied ? Some there may be 
 of such exalted imagination that 
 they can only conceive of Jesus 
 in the Glory of the Father with 
 the Holy Angels. Others there 
 are whose souls demand a near- 
 er, kinder, humaner Lord, and 
 they find Him in the Master who 
 offered the symbols of His love 
 with a certain wistfulness, be-
 
 86 A LAST WISH 
 
 cause as on earth He felt most 
 of all desertion, so in the ages 
 He could only live unto His lik- 
 ing in the hearts of His friends. 
 Jesus does not need to plead 
 that He be remembered in the 
 world, for indeed He cannot be 
 overpassed. If the Gospels and 
 every writing of the faith were 
 destroyed beyond recovery, the 
 Church, dominate ,n two Conti- 
 nents, visible in two more, pre- 
 senting a perennial vigour, and 
 shedding an indescribable grace, 
 would compel attention. If the 
 Church also were obliterated in 
 some like unimaginable catas- 
 trophe, Jesus had not disap- 
 peared. The chief philanthro- 
 pies of civilised nations, the state 
 books of government, the con- 
 stitution of society are the out- 
 come of Jesus Spirit. It is im- 
 possible to explain human life or 
 human history without Jesus,
 
 A LAST WISH 
 
 who is woven into the conscious- 
 ness of the race, who will yet 
 find in the race His everlasting 
 memorial. His presence is 
 everywhere as the sunlight 
 which at some hour strikes into 
 each nook, which colours each 
 flower. But Jesus is not to be 
 for one moment thought of as 
 simply the divinest of all the 
 forces that mould life to God, 
 immanent by His Spirit, but as 
 the Man who ever loves most 
 passionately and hungers most 
 for love. He careth little for 
 monuments ; He craveth for 
 hearts. Jesus is only satisfied 
 when the doors are shut to the 
 world ; and in a quiet place His 
 friends meet to keep His com- 
 mandment Whether it be in 
 the shadow of a cathedral where 
 the hushed multitude kneel at the 
 lifting of the Host, or in some 
 Puritan meeting-room where the
 
 A LAST WISH 
 
 elements of the Sacrament ars 
 passed from hand to hand, or on 
 the mountain side where Scot- 
 tish covenanters keep the Feast, 
 or in the dreary Catacombs 
 where early Christians show 
 forth the death they may to-mor- 
 row share, it is the same to Him 
 who is above all rites, who lives 
 for love. 
 
 It happened once that a family 
 had a father who was a bene- 
 factor to the state and did such 
 service that after his death a 
 statue was erected in a public 
 place to his memory, and on the 
 pedestal his virtues were en- 
 graven that all might read his 
 name and revere his memory. 
 His children mingled with the 
 people as they stood in that 
 square and listened to their fa- 
 ther's praise with pride. But 
 their eyes were dry This fig- 
 ure with civic robes, cut in stone,
 
 A LAST WISH 89 
 
 was not the man they knew and 
 loved. Within the home were 
 other memorials more intimate, 
 more dear, more living a por- 
 trait, a packet of letters, a Bible. 
 As the family looked on such sa- 
 cred possessions, they remem- 
 bered him who had laboured for 
 them, had trained them from 
 first years, had counselled, com- 
 forted, protected them. All he 
 had done for the big world was 
 as nothing to what he had done 
 for his own. When they gath- 
 ered round the hearth he built, 
 on certain occasions they spoke 
 of him with gentler voices, with 
 softened eyes, while the stran- 
 gers pass on the street. This 
 Father is Jesus, and we are His 
 children whom He has loved 
 unto death. 
 
 No one in the wide world Is 
 so miserable and destitute as 
 the man who has never been
 
 9O A LAST WISH 
 
 loved. There is no crime which 
 might not be excused, which 
 might not almost be forgiven to 
 that wronged soul. We cannot 
 imagine how power and joy and 
 hope of life are due to love of 
 father, mother, wife, or child. 
 Yet this love has been condi- 
 tioned and limited. There is 
 only one love of human experi- 
 ence that has transcended time 
 and space and sight which em- 
 braces a multitude no man can 
 number, and has made for them, 
 born and unborn, far and near, 
 the last sacrifice. It was the 
 passionate conviction of Jesus' 
 love for each disciple, for some 
 Scottish shepherd as well as for 
 St. John, that gave strength and 
 tenderness to faith in former 
 days ; but it looks as if this be- 
 lief had weakened. Good Chris- 
 tians do not now say with fond 
 hearts, ' Whom Jesus loved ' or
 
 A LAST WISH QI 
 
 ' Who loved me and gave Him- 
 self for me.' Our religion has 
 become a matter of the Creeds, 
 or of public service, or of the 
 aesthetic worship, or of vague 
 sentiment, it has almost ceased 
 to be a relationship of love be- 
 tween two persons, Jesus and 
 the soul, and so Christianity is 
 losing its mystical charm. 
 
 With those even of the school 
 of St. John and St. Paul, the re- 
 membrance of Jesus is apt to 
 share the fate of all our loves. 
 There are a few fine souls who 
 love once because they love for 
 ever, whose devotion is indepen- 
 dent of sight, whose constancy 
 deepens in absence. They have 
 their reward in a delicate beauty 
 of character, in a rare spiritual- 
 ity of temper denied to those of 
 crasser mould. They need no 
 sacraments, their love is an end- 
 less sacrament. With most peo-
 
 9* x ~AST WISH 
 
 pie, however, time is only too 
 sure a comforter, and nothing 
 in life's tragedy is more sad than 
 the rapidity of our forgetting. 
 
 It seemed, after our loss, as if 
 life could never regain its buoy- 
 ancy, and that we must always 
 be haunted with a sense of lone- 
 liness. But the impression 
 grows dim on our world-worn 
 heart, and would soon be effaced 
 were it not for the magical re- 
 sources of memory. The dis- 
 covery of a letter will recreate 
 the past and awaken slumbering 
 emotions, and vindicate the om- 
 nipotence of love. The supreme 
 love of our souls, the passion for 
 Jesus, is subject to such subtle 
 decays, such sudden revivals. 
 No one has lived the inner life 
 without seasons of early pas- 
 sions when the romance of Jesus 
 has captured the soul, without 
 seasons of later declension when
 
 A LAST WISH 93 
 
 the greenery of spring 1 grew 
 grey in the city dust. It is in 
 such hours of coldness and weari- 
 ness we ought to reinforce our 
 souls with the Sacrament of the 
 Bread and Wine As one makes 
 a journey to some country kirk- 
 yard where the dust of his de- 
 parted are lying, and cleanses 
 away the moss that has filled up 
 the letters of his mother's name, 
 so do we in the Holy Commu- 
 nion again assure ourselves of a 
 love so amazing that it passes 
 knowledge, but so utterly Di- 
 vine that it must be true.
 
 THE BEQUEST OF JESUS
 
 Peace I leave with you, my peace I 
 give unto you : not as the world giveth, 
 give I unto you. Let not your heart be 
 troubled, neither let it be afraid. 
 
 I koow how to live with God. 
 
 MYSTIC
 
 THE BEQUEST OF JESUS 
 
 IT is a custom of human society 
 that any one about to depart 
 from this world arranges his af- 
 fairs and divides his goods 
 among those whom he loves and 
 is to leave behind. He makes 
 his will, and wills in this matter 
 have to do with things that can 
 be seen and held in the hand. 
 Those that receive a portion 
 count themselves fortunate, 
 those that are passed over make 
 complaint, and many people 
 watch what bccometh of a man's 
 possessions when he and they 
 are parted for ever. No one is 
 released from this last duty ex- 
 cept he who has nothing, and, 
 therefore, it soundeth like & 
 paradox to say that Jesus also 
 G
 
 98 THE BEQUEST OF JESUS 
 
 made His will and was careful 
 to bequeath His goods to His 
 friends. For was there ever 
 any man poorer than Jesus after 
 He had finished His work and 
 was ready to die ? The cottage 
 at Nazareth with its slender fur- 
 nishing had long been left : for 
 His Prophet labours His teach- 
 ing, and His healing Jesus re- 
 ceived nothing ; His only home 
 for the past three years had been 
 strangers' houses or the moun- 
 tain side : pious women had 
 given of their substance to sup- 
 port the little fellowship : a mir- 
 acle had to be wrought where- 
 with to pay the Temple tax : the 
 scanty peasant garments Jesus 
 wore would belong to His exe- 
 cutioners. No man hath ever 
 lived or died with fewer earthly 
 goods than the Master. 
 
 It is good for us to remember 
 the condition of Jesus and the
 
 THE BEQUEST OF JESUS 99 
 
 will which He made in order 
 that we may lay to heart that 
 there are two kind of goods 
 treasures which perish in the 
 using, and treasures which no 
 moth can touch. One might 
 not have a single piece of gold 
 or silver, and yet have achieved 
 a name which carried with it 
 power, honour, glory, and this 
 he could leave to his children. 
 Here then was one possession 
 with which Jesus did endow His 
 family, and afterwards St. Peter 
 and St. John found that when 
 lilver and gold were worthless, 
 marvellous deeds of mercy could 
 be done in the name of Jesus of 
 Nazareth. One may also have 
 fought the battle of the soul so 
 bravely as to have attained to 
 high virtues, and they that fol- 
 low after inherit his character. 
 So it came to pass that St. John 
 lived in such intimacy with Jesus
 
 tOO THE BEQUEST OF JESUK 
 
 that he caught His likeness and 
 the very tone of His words. It 
 has also happened that one made 
 a great discovery in his life, and 
 has confided it to certain associ- 
 ates to be their portion beyond 
 all riches. And our Master hav- 
 ing found out the deepest and 
 dearest of all secrets the way 
 of peace did give it into the 
 hands of His friends, and all the 
 world were a poor price to offer 
 for peace. 
 
 One can only give to another 
 what he has owned himself, and 
 as soon as Jesus makes His will 
 and leaves peace to the Twelve, 
 it comes to our mind that He 
 has endowed them with the 
 chiefest good, and has given, 
 what beyond all men that ever 
 lived, He Himself enjoyed. He 
 had neither houses nor lands. 
 One other thing He did not 
 have, unrest. He had shame
 
 THE BEQUEST OF JESUS IOI 
 
 and suffering. One other thing 
 He did have, rest. With evi 
 dent fitness and intense convic- 
 tion He could face a crowd of 
 harassed, overdriven, hopeless 
 people, heavy laden in soul and 
 body, and offer them rest. 
 Never had any one seen Jesus 
 disturbed in soul, save in grief 
 for a friend's death, or in pity 
 for a doomed city, or for some 
 other reason outside Himself. 
 If a multitude would make Him 
 a King, He was not exalted ; if 
 they cried, ' Crucify Him,' He 
 was not cast down. It mattered 
 nothing to Him what was said 
 of Him, or done with Him ; and 
 through accumulated hardships, 
 disappointments, injustices, cru- 
 elties, Jesus preserved His high 
 serenity. Whatever storms beat 
 on the outer coast of His life, 
 His soul was anchored in the 
 fair haven of Peace.
 
 IO2 THE BEQUEST OF JESUS 
 
 Certainly there was a peace 
 which Jesus did not taste once 
 in His three years, and which 
 He told His disciples with much 
 frankness they were not likely 
 to obtain. If there be, as in- 
 deed there are, two atmospheres 
 or environments to which a man 
 can adjust himself, the world 
 which is seen, and the world 
 which is not seen ; then there 
 be two kinds of peace, and one 
 is harmony with the temporal. 
 Suppose one should lay himself 
 out with full intention to say 
 with the multitude and to do the 
 works they do, to look always 
 on his own things, and to refuse 
 all things unwelcome to flesh 
 and blood, he may escape much 
 bad weather like a ship that will 
 not face the open sea but fol- 
 lows her twisting course through 
 narrow passages. Jesus might 
 have put Himself on good terms
 
 THE BEQUEST OF JESUS IO3 
 
 with His world, which being 
 the religious, was the most mer- 
 ciless if offended, the most ap- 
 preciative if satisfied ; and then 
 He would have sat in the chief 
 seats of the synagogue and 
 would not have been crucified. 
 If any one will do his best to 
 make himself agreeable to his 
 world, and not allow himself to 
 be driven to extremities by his 
 conscience, then this world will 
 do its part in being agreeable to 
 him. He may not on that ac- 
 count escape inevitable ills or 
 occasional reproaches of his 
 soul ; but he can calculate on 
 some ease of life. This is what 
 Jesus means when He refers 
 to the peace which the world 
 gives. 
 
 This ease is not heart ease, 
 and what Jesus intended by 
 peace was not harmony with a 
 world which passeth away but
 
 IO4 TH E BEQUEST OF JESUS 
 
 with the Eternal. Jesus did not 
 set Himself in wanton opposition 
 to His surroundings either 
 men or circumstances nor did 
 He love to be ostracised and ill- 
 used. But it was His belief that 
 the supreme part for every man 
 was to find out the will of God, 
 the supreme endeavour to do 
 the work of God. So soon as 
 the will is plain then he must 
 obey it at any cost, and if this 
 obedience throws him out of 
 gear with the world it will bring 
 him into unison with God. It 
 is better to be at one with the 
 spiritual order which remaineth 
 than with this vain show which 
 passeth away, for God also hath 
 His rewards and comforts. If 
 the world called Jesus Devil and 
 Samaritan, God said first, ' My 
 beloved Son,' and if He was ar- 
 rested as if He were a thief, the 
 angels of God waited on Him.
 
 THE BEQUEST OF JESUS 
 
 The world had denied Him ease, 
 His life was troubled ; God gave 
 Him peace, His heart was not 
 troubled, neither was it afraid. 
 If we must have thorns some- 
 where, let us wear them on the 
 brow rather than in the heart. 
 
 Within twelve hours the con- 
 trast between the peace of the 
 world and the peace of God was 
 to pass into history, when Jesus 
 stood before Pontius Pilate. By 
 degrading intrigues and unscru- 
 pulous services this man had 
 come to be Procurator of Judaea, 
 and his one end was to please a 
 suspicious emperor and retain 
 office. He had sailed a treach- 
 erous sea with fair success, but 
 now he knew not which way to 
 turn. His Roman sense of jus- 
 tice and some faint stirrings of 
 conscience reinforced by his 
 wife's appeal and the counte- 
 nance of the prisoner moved
 
 IO6 THE BEQUEST OF JESUS 
 
 Pilate to let Jesus free. The 
 fanaticism of the Jews and the 
 sullen menace, ' Thou are not 
 Caesar's friend,' appealed to the 
 sensitive imagination of a selfish 
 man Between his higher and 
 lower selves he was at his wits 
 end. ' Knowest Thou not that 
 I have power ? ' he said to Jesus 
 with unconscious irony. What 
 power had he who dare not obey 
 his conscience ? What peace 
 had he who trembled behind his 
 guards ? 
 
 It was the Man before Pilate, 
 dejected, insulted, bound, who 
 alone had power as He was also 
 clothed with pure Majesty. 
 Amid the confusion of the gar- 
 den, He secured the safety of 
 His disciples although He would 
 lift no hand for His own deliv- 
 ering. Helpless and lonely He 
 pitied His judge in the straits of 
 his cowardice and offered what
 
 THE BEQUEST OF JESUS IO? 
 
 excuse could be found for Pilate. 
 On the sorrowful way, and from 
 beneath the burden of the Cross, 
 He spoke kindly to the daugh- 
 ters of Jerusalem. Upon the 
 Cross, when His own life was 
 ebbing away, He gave everlast- 
 ing life to a dying penitent. 
 Why should He be disturbed or 
 dismayed ? No doubt it was a 
 strange and dark providence that 
 His life should end in Geth- 
 semane and Calvary. What had 
 He done to merit a Cross ? He 
 had tasted doubt and fear, but 
 the conflict was now over and 
 He saw the blue through the rift 
 in the cloud. Everything was 
 the will of God, and when Jesus 
 said, ' Thy will be done,' His 
 soul was at rest. If the Cross 
 be the Divine Will it was a per- 
 fect and beautiful will. The 
 power was with Jesus which 
 nothing could dismay. If it
 
 IO8 THE BEQUEST OF JESUS 
 
 were for the greater good He 
 had sat on Pilate's judgment 
 seat : as it was He would hang 
 upon the Cross. God did ever 
 what was best, and so the peace 
 of God which passeth all under- 
 standing garrisoned His heart. 
 
 Some people are apt to belittle 
 the peace of Jesus because they 
 have peace of life. They have 
 had no bitter disappointments, 
 no cruel wrestles, no crushing 
 afflictions, no fiery afflictions. 
 The world has dealt kindly by 
 them and they have fitted into 
 their environments. Moments 
 there are when the sailors of the 
 deep envy those that sail in the 
 smooth sheltered waters because 
 they have not been driven to 
 and fro on stormy seas and been 
 *;n danger of the turgid swells. 
 Other moments the sons of trib- 
 ulation pity those unfortunates 
 who have never seen the great
 
 THE BEQUEST OF JESUS 109 
 
 billows lie down as a dog chid- 
 den by his master and God turn 
 the storm into a calm. One 
 half of the Bible is a closed book 
 to them that sit at ease, because 
 only a pierced hand can open 
 the pages. The promises are 
 for them whose hearts are sore : 
 the invitations are to them who 
 hunger. Jesus' peace was the 
 best of all gifts to that handful 
 of broken men in the Upper 
 Room, whose first step would 
 be into the darkness, but it may 
 not seem any great thing to the 
 favourites of this world. Yet it 
 is not wise for any one to make 
 too much of an outward peace, 
 dependent on health of body, 
 and the goods that are kept in 
 barns and the suffrages of the 
 multitude, which to-day cries 
 ' Hosanna,' and to-morrow ' Cru- 
 cify,' and on the whims of fickle, 
 selfish people Let a man be as
 
 110 THE BEQUEST OF JESUS 
 
 far-seeing, accommodating, po- 
 litic, unscrupulous as may be, he 
 cannot hope always to escape 
 disaster, for this peace is as un- 
 certain as the lovely Mediterra- 
 nean. One day you look out 
 through the motionless foliage 
 on a still expanse of blue, and 
 next morning the orange blos- 
 som is strewn upon the ground 
 and the spray is dashing on your 
 garden wall. ' As the world 
 giveth.' 
 
 Other people have lost heart 
 to believe in the peace of Jesus 
 because they have never tasted 
 peace of life. Circumstances 
 seem to have conspired against 
 them, so that they never built 
 some lowly house of comfort but 
 it was wrecked and their soul 
 left desolate. They may be 
 pardoned for not always remem- 
 bering that Providence is strong- 
 er than circumstances. The
 
 /HE BEQUEST OF JESUS III 
 
 will of God stands, works, con- 
 quers, blesses. If we had our 
 way most of us would choose a 
 new set of circumstances and 
 would afterwards repent bitter- 
 ly. God doeth better for His 
 sons, disarming and illuminating 
 the things which were against 
 us so that they become our pro- 
 tection the storm on the sur- 
 face hiding the eternal calm be- 
 low. f 
 
 The presence of Jesus shed 
 peace on His disciples and laid 
 to rest their nervous anxieties 
 as well as their just fears, and 
 the wisdom of His followers on 
 every vexing day is to retire into 
 His fellowship. Within a few 
 yards of a street in our Babylon, 
 which sounds all day long with 
 the tramp of feet and the mixed 
 noises of a great city's traffic, is 
 hidden away an ancient church. 
 As one turns aside and makes
 
 112 THE BEQUEST OF JESUS 
 
 his way to its place the babel 
 dies into a murmur, and when 
 he has entered in and closed the 
 door not a sound is heard to dis- 
 tract the soul, and the light falls 
 on the kneeling figure from the 
 faces of saints who have over- 
 come the world and are for ever 
 in peace. So in the midst of 
 this great commotion abideth 
 the will of God, strong and ten- 
 der, and he that hideth himself 
 therein remembereth no longer 
 the turmoil of life, because, with 
 Jesus and an innumerable com- 
 pany of faithful men, he has 
 made his refuge in the secret 
 place of God.
 
 THE LORD'S TRYSTE
 
 In My Father's house are many man- 
 sions : if it were not so, I would have 
 told you. 
 
 I go to prepare a place for you. And 
 if I go and prepare a place for you, I will 
 come again, and receive you unto myself. 
 
 He said he was going to that country 
 he had all his life wished to see . . . just 
 before he died, his countenance became 
 fair, his eyes brightened, and he burst 
 out into singing of the things he saw in 
 heaven. Life of lak*.
 
 THE LORD'S TRYSTE 
 
 IT were not wholesome that one 
 should think overmuch about 
 the world to come, because in 
 that case he might be isolated 
 and fail to do the will of God in 
 this present world, and there- 
 fore Jesus, who ever lived in the 
 secret place of God, said little 
 about the Kingdom in its glory, 
 and rather insisted on that King- 
 dom in its travail. Yet there 
 are hours when the unseen 
 presses on the soul, and we must 
 needs speak of what is within 
 the veil, and so it was most hu- 
 man that before they parted for 
 the ' little while,' Jesus should 
 break silence with His friends 
 about the other side. As a fa-
 
 Il6 THE LORD'S TRYSTE 
 
 _ ^ 
 
 ther who is leaving his children 
 and crossing the vast ocean in 
 order that he may make another 
 home in the wider space of the 
 new world, so did this Father of 
 a very dependent family assure 
 them concerning that unknown 
 place into which He was soon to 
 disappear. He was very faith- 
 ful, and took good care that His 
 followers should not be left as 
 orphans, for He bequeathed His 
 peace to be their support, and 
 promised to send them a Friend 
 acquainted with His mind to be 
 their guide, and now He pledged 
 His word that as soon as the 
 place beyond was ready for 
 them, and they for it, He would 
 Himself return and fetch them 
 home. 
 
 My Father's house is a word 
 that ever fell from Jesus' lips 
 with a pleasant and caressing 
 sound, and now it seemed to
 
 THE LORD'S TRYSTE 1 1/ 
 
 come to perfection like a bud 
 bursting into flower. Accord- 
 ing to ancient Hebrew tradition 
 the Eternal had shown His glory 
 in the Tent of the Wilderness, 
 and used to dwell where the 
 golden angels bent over the ark. 
 Kings desired to build a habita- 
 tion for God, who dwelleth not 
 in houses made by hands, and 
 at last in the imagination of faith 
 the Divine Presence settled in 
 the Temple of Jerusalem. Saints 
 supported their piety with its 
 visible symbols, and exiles in 
 the homesickness of the soul 
 turned their faces to the House 
 of God. Here, as the nearest 
 spot to Heaven, Simeon waited 
 for the consolation of Israel ; 
 here the young Child Jesus was 
 presented to the Lord with a 
 pair of turtle doves by His Vir- 
 gin Mother. It was the Temple 
 that Jesus, in a fine heat, cleansed
 
 n8 THE LORD'S TRYSTE 
 
 from filthy lucre, and the same 
 Temple He declared to be the 
 mystical symbol of His Body. 
 Jesus was indeed, in His Holy 
 Incarnation, the Shrine of God, 
 where God met men, and they 
 saw God, and now when He 
 passed into the unseen, the other 
 world would become the House 
 of God, our ' Father's House.' 
 
 Perhaps there may have been 
 also a nearer and tenderer sug- 
 gestion in this fine word, and 
 Jesus was thinking of the Upper 
 Room. He and the Apostles 
 were gathered together in close 
 fellowship, with the Bread and 
 Wine before them, and the kind- 
 ly light on their faces. Outside 
 was darkness, which hung over 
 and enswathed the goodman's 
 house, full of distant sounds, un- 
 known dangers, unseen people. 
 Within the Room, after Judas 
 passed out, was rest, confidence,
 
 THE LORD'S TRYSTE 119 
 
 love. Jesus and His friends 
 were at home. So much had 
 one good man been able to do 
 for the men he loved in this hos- 
 tile Jerusalem. What could not 
 God do for His Son and His 
 Son's friends in the mysterious 
 other world with its strange cir- 
 cumstances and imagined perils ? 
 One little circle of light created 
 by human love, one greater cir- 
 cle yonder created by Divine 
 love. St. John had been con- 
 tent to live for ever in that poor 
 Room of earth, and so had they 
 all for the peace that had fallen 
 upon them, wherefore let them 
 consider how much better than 
 it hath entered into the heart 
 must it be where there are 
 many mansions in the Father's 
 House. 
 
 Jesus, who had stated many 
 of the deep things of the spirit- 
 ual world in the terms of our
 
 I3O THE LORD'S TRYSTE 
 
 common life, now declares Heav- 
 en to be another name for home, 
 and so makes a winsome appeal 
 to the heart. This word is in 
 deed like unto an alabaster box 
 of ointment very precious, 
 whose fragrance fills the life. 
 Into it has been gathered our 
 most sacred memories, our ten- 
 derest associations, our bright- 
 est hopes. It matters little 
 whether the home of one's child- 
 hood has been a cottage on a 
 hillside or a house in some city 
 street, round it is woven a ro- 
 mance of interest that grows 
 with the years, to it travels back 
 the heart from distant places 
 alike of work and thought with 
 wistful regret As the years 
 come and go we see our home 
 through a golden mist, wherein 
 all things are beautiful and per- 
 fect, and so there is no home 
 that is not a prophecy. As
 
 THE LORD'S TRYSTE 121 
 
 Jesus Himself was the Son of 
 Man, that perfect Antitype after 
 which in all ages men's minds 
 have gone forth, so must that 
 place from which He came be 
 above all we have dreamed 
 Home. 
 
 It was like Jesus that He does 
 not offer any proof of Heaven, 
 and for the same reason that our 
 Master does not affirm the exist- 
 ence of God. The men of that 
 generation might be narrow to 
 a degree in their religious no- 
 tions and very blind to spiritual 
 excellence, but they clung to 
 the hope of another world, from 
 the highest unto the lowest, so 
 that the Pharisees who did not 
 rest till Jesus was silenced con- 
 tended fiercely for the resurrec- 
 tion and a dying malefactor had 
 some faint idea of Paradise. 
 Had this been only the pathetic 
 dream of a religious people,
 
 122 THE LORD'S TRYSTE 
 
 whose immense sufferings had 
 projected the days of the Mes- 
 siah into the unseen, and sought 
 in the imagination of anothe* 
 world, like unto St. John's 
 Heavenly Jerusalem, the com- 
 pensation for the sorrows of 
 this, Jesus would have been very 
 faithful. His silence is consent. 
 Among all prophets who have 
 spoken of the deep things of the 
 soul none of any time or land is 
 for a moment to be compared 
 with Jesus. His is the last word 
 on God, on the soul, on life, on 
 the unseen. He ever told His 
 disciples the truth, and when 
 He left them with the eternal 
 hope, He confirmed it. These 
 are beliefs that have now to be 
 proved if they be true, but dis- 
 proved if they be untrue and 
 one is our Father's House. 
 
 Jesus rather gave Himself to 
 comfort His disciples on two
 
 THE LORD S TRYSTE 123 
 
 matters that weigh upon the 
 mind as we think in quiet mo- 
 ments of that world from which 
 no messages come, into which 
 we must soon all pass. It is 
 very pleasant at a time to call 
 Heaven home, our long last 
 home, but as often as our 
 thoughts play round the sub- 
 ject, we are chilled by the vast- 
 ness and unknownness of the fu- 
 ture life. Will it not be a cheer- 
 less change to be torn from this 
 home of ours, some poor cottage 
 on the Sea of Galilee, and cast 
 on the other side, amid unfa- 
 miliar scenes, unknown faces, 
 strange duties. If this secret 
 misgiving had passed through 
 the minds of the Twelve and it 
 may be that Jesus had seen its 
 signs in their faces He set Him- 
 self to take it away with all the 
 cunning skill of love. He was 
 going before not only to secure
 
 124 THE LORD'S TRYSTE 
 
 His friends right of entrance 
 and a welcome in the Father's 
 House, but also to prepare for 
 them a place. None knew them 
 more intimately their friends, 
 their ways, their character, their 
 circumstances. If any one could 
 make Heaven homelike for St. 
 John and St. Peter, for Martha 
 and Mary, for the ' goodman of 
 the house' it would be Jesus. 
 As a mother, who expects her 
 son from foreign parts, would 
 arrange his room to remind him 
 of his boyhood, gathering into 
 it the things he loved and the 
 treasures he sent on before him, 
 so will the Master reconstruct 
 our life beyond doubt of kindly 
 circumstances that shall fit into 
 our character and work, with 
 this difference that the scale 
 shall be of Heaven ; and place 
 us once more among those we 
 loved and lost for a while with
 
 THE LORD'S TRYSTE 12$ 
 
 only this difference that we shall 
 not then see through a glass 
 darkly, but face to face. 
 
 Jesus also removeth for ever 
 another disquiet of the soul 
 when He promises to come for 
 His friends. Surely there must 
 be few persons who do not think 
 of death with awe, and any one 
 would be cursed with a hope- 
 less frivolity who could antici- 
 pate the great change with care- 
 lessness. Many persons, not 
 otherwise cowardly or unbeliev- 
 ing, regard the end of this life 
 with terror, and pass their days 
 in bondage. It is an immense 
 adventure to throw off this body 
 as one slips off his clothes, and 
 plunge into the unseen. One 
 may believe in the city of light 
 beyond and in the welcome of 
 Jesus and yet have some natural 
 fear of the passage. Its dark- 
 ness, its loneliness, its strange-
 
 126 THE LORD'S TRYSTE 
 
 ness appall his imagination, and 
 it will be the greatest trial of 
 life to bid faithful friends and 
 familiar scenes farewell. How 
 altogether timely is the promise 
 of Jesus that in that hour we 
 shall not be alone, nor even that 
 angels shall attend us visibly 
 who all our life have guarded 
 us, but that the Divine Presence 
 Itself will await and convey us. 
 In various places and on many 
 occasions does Jesus pledge us 
 to meet Him in this life at the 
 Cross, in the Sacrament, in the 
 crises of joy and sorrow and 
 now once again He appoints us 
 a meeting-place. It is the Val- 
 ley of the Shadow where, in the 
 quietness and seclusion as in a 
 lover's glade, He will expect us 
 one day. Is there any spot on 
 earth so common or so wild that 
 it has not been transformed by 
 love ? Are there any places in
 
 THE LORD'S TRYSTE I2/ 
 
 our thought so beautiful as those 
 where we kept tryste with those 
 that were dearer than life. So 
 Jesus, who hath such power of 
 regeneration that He changed 
 the accursed tree into the Cross, 
 and made chief sinners into 
 saints, hath put a fair face on 
 death so that it becometh but 
 His dark disguise as He return- 
 eth to receive us home. 
 
 For one and all those faJthful 
 men He did as seemed to Him 
 best. The first to see the Mas- 
 ter on the other side was St. 
 James ; and if we questioned 
 him he would doubtless declare 
 that he was not able to distin- 
 guish the flash of the soldier's 
 sword from the sheen of Jesus' 
 garments. The last for whom 
 Jesus came was His friend, and 
 one can plainly see that St. John 
 was growing lonely in his old 
 age and wearying for the Lord,
 
 128 THE LORD'S TRYSTE 
 
 wondering when word should 
 come that Jesus could not any 
 longer be content without him. 
 ' Come quickly, Lord Jesus,' he 
 cried, full of homesickness ; and 
 at last the Master came accord- 
 ing to His word. Many years 
 had come and gone since St. 
 John went out with Jesus to 
 Gethsemane, but his suffering, 
 his separation, his sorrows, 
 would seem like a dream when 
 the two friends came once more 
 and for ever into the ' Upper 
 Room.'
 
 University of California 
 SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FAC 
 305 De Neve Drive - Parking Lot 17 Bo 
 LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90095- 
 
 Return this material to the library from which it \ 
 
 OCT 16.2006
 
 A 000168432 3
 
 Univers 
 South 
 Libr