The Crucifixion of Philip Strong Part 25

"Yes," he said, "I love you, people of Milton, beloved members of this church. I would have opened my arms to every child of humanity here and shown him, if I could, the boundless love of his heavenly Father! But oh, ye would not! And yet the love of Christ! What a wonderful thing it is! How much He wished us to enjoy of peace and hope and fellows.h.i.+p and service! Yes, service--that is what the world needs to-day; service that is willing to give all--all to Him who gave all to save us! O Christ, Master, teach us to do Thy will. Make us servants to the poor and sinful and hopeless. Make Thy Church on earth more like Thyself!"

Those nearest Philip saw him suddenly raise his handkerchief to his lips, and then, when he took it away, it was stained with blood. But the people did not see that. And then, and then--a remarkable thing took place.

On the rear wall of Calvary Church there had been painted, when the church was built, a Latin cross. This cross had been the source of almost endless dispute among the church-members. Some said it was inartistic; others said it was in keeping with the name of the church, and had a right place there as part of its inner adornment. Once the dispute had grown so large and serious that the church had voted as to its removal or retention on the wall. A small majority had voted to leave it there, and there it remained. It was perfectly white, on a panel of thin wood, and stood out very conspicuously above the rear of the platform. It was not directly behind the desk, but several feet at one side.

Philip had never made any allusion in his sermons to this feature of Calvary Church's architecture. People had wondered sometimes that with his imaginative, poetical temperament he never had done so, especially once when a sermon on the crucifixion had thrilled the people wonderfully. It might have been his extreme sensitiveness, his shrinking from anything like cheap sensation.

But now he stepped back--it was not far--and turning partly around, with one long arm extended toward the cross as if in imagination, he saw the Christ upon it, he exclaimed, "'Behold the Lamb of G.o.d that taketh away the sin of the world!' Yes--

"'In the cross of Christ I glory, Towering o'er the wrecks of time; All the light of sacred story Gathers round----'"

His voice suddenly ceased, he threw his arms up, and as he turned a little forward toward the congregation he was seen to reel and stagger back against the wall. For one intense tremendous second of time he stood there with the whole church smitten into a pitying, horrified, startled, motionless crowd of blanched staring faces, as his tall, dark figure towered up with outstretched arms, almost covering the very outlines of the cross, and then he sank down at its foot.

A groan went up from the audience. Several men sprang up the platform steps. Mrs. Strong was the first person to reach her husband. Two or three helped to bear him to the front of the platform. Sarah kneeled down by him. She put her head against his breast. Then she raised her face and said calmly, "He is dead."

The Brother Man was kneeling on the other side. "No," he said with an indescribable gesture and untranslatable inflection, "he is not dead. He is living in the eternal mansions of glory with his Lord!"

But the news was borne from lip to lip, "He is dead!" And that is the way men speak of the body. And they were right. The body of Philip was dead. And the Brother Man was right also. For Philip himself was alive in glory, and as they bore the tabernacle of his flesh out of Calvary Church that day, that was all they bore. His soul was out of the reach of humanity's selfishness and humanity's sorrow.

They said that when the funeral of Philip Strong's body was held in Milton, rugged, unfeeling men were seen to cry like children in the streets. A great procession, largely made up of the poor and sinful, followed him to his wintry grave. They lingered long about the spot.

Finally, every one withdrew except Sarah, who refused to be led away by her friends, and William and the Brother Man. They stood looking down into the grave.

"He was very young to die so soon," at last Sarah said, with a calmness that was more terrible than bursts of grief.

"So was Christ," replied Brother Man, simply.

"But, oh, Philip, Philip, my beloved, they killed him!" she cried; and at last, for she had not wept yet, great tears rolled down into the grave, and uncontrollable anguish seized her. Brother Man did not attempt to console or interrupt. He knew she was in the arms of G.o.d.

After a long time he said: "Yes, they crucified him. But he is with his Lord now. Let us be glad for him. Let us leave him with the Eternal Peace."

When the snow had melted from the hillside and the first arbutus was beginning to bud and even blossom, one day some men came out to the grave and put up a plain stone at the head. After the men had done this work they went away. One of them lingered. He was the wealthy mill-owner. He stood with his hat in his hand and his head bent down, his eyes resting on the words carved into the stone. They were these:

PHILIP STRONG.

PASTOR OF CALVARY CHURCH.

"In the cross of Christ I glory, Towering o'er the wrecks of time; All the light of sacred story Gathers round----"

Mr. Winter looked at the incomplete line and then, as he turned away and walked slowly back down into Milton he said, "Yes, it is better so. We must finish the rest for him."

Ah, Philip Strong! The sacrifice was not in vain! The Resurrection is not far from the Crucifixion.

Near to its close rolls up the century; And still the Church of Christ upon the earth Which marks the Christmas of His lowly birth, Contains the selfish Scribe and Pharisee.

O Christ of G.o.d, exchanging gain for loss, Would men still nail thee to the self-same cross?

It is the Christendom of Time, and still Wealth and the love of it hold potent sway; The heart of man is stubborn to obey, The Church has yet to do the Master's will.

O Christ of G.o.d, we bow our souls to thee; Hasten the dawning of Thy Church to be way!

THE END.